Love in the Time of Cholera

Love, had always been understood by me,
to be as important as the air we breathe.
It was the painter who coloured the leaves,
and changed them from tomato-red to asparagus-green.

Lauded in all lands, it is the subject of much lore,
sometimes there is no story line without a girl worth fighting for.
Although love is celebrated everywhere from Bangkok to Beijing,
it has also resulted in its share of suffering.

If love lifts us up where we belong, and it is all we need,
then peace should not be overlooked in order to satisfy greed.
If love is all the many-splendoured things that I have heard,
it should easily be able to repair the broken spirits around the world.

As a child, love was often portrayed to me as a rapidly beating heart,
or as cartoon pupils that were transfixed, and had been replaced by stars.
Love was in the first kisses that occurred whilst hanging from monkey bars,
and also in the thrill we shared from breaking rules by staying out ‘til after dark.

Now that I am older, and have fallen in love twice,
I know that if it ever returns, that it would never suffice.
It is said that the third time’s a charm, but I refuse to take the risk;
I would rather remain closed off to love, than to ever return to its abyss.

Romance, you see, is not for the weak,
for it will adore you mere moments before it is thrashing your cheek.
It is surely better to never have loved at all, than it is to have loved and lost,
as no amount of time, effort, or money could ever be worth the emotional cost.

Upon your arrival into love, you will always be certain to recognize all of your heart’s desires,
until it dawns on you, once you’re kicked out, that you are swimming in gasoline, and surrounded by raging fire.
Unconditional love is destined to end, just as ‘eternally yours’ begs the question"'til when?"
I would rather remain closed off to love, than let myself be vulnerable again.

Eat. Sleep. Love. Repeat.

Light, the kind that brings the faintest glimmer of hope,

appeared suddenly through a darkened wood;

like an oasis after travelling through the Sahara so parched

with thirst threatening to take my life for good.

Though death’s bony palm lazily gripped my arm,

it was just rough enough for me to hear its confession;

lecherously it whispered in my ear,

that I would soon become its latest possession.

Could it be that the answer I sought and then revered

had finally arrived upon its noble steed as though a God?

My eyes too weak from tears to see whether it was a blessing

or if it was concealing a curse within its threadbare purse.

Much too pained, 

with shallow breaths I take pathetic steps, 

afraid of acquiring evermore heartache as debt, 

which I forbade before embarking on this clueless quest.

Was it true the skies had selected me this day to prize,

unable to accept that my turn had come, just yet.  

Disbelief unshaken, for I had long grown weary of my faith;

the spell love cast had not been broken, I was still carrying its chains.

That speck of white that shone through lit a fire in my chest,

for I had long anticipated an anchor to steady my skittish ship.

From ash to glowing embers, this inferno progressed,

growing wilder with each second, until there was a raging blaze and nothing else.

I shed my shredded armour, matted with layers of hurt,

ripped off the rags that adorned me, 

filthy from being dragged too often through the dirt.

The chaos in my cerebral cortex left me to my own device;

forced me out from my phantom fairy tale

and shoved me into the black of night.

This dopamine daydream that I so desperately tried to keep,

silenced the serotonin soliloquies that so often substituted sleep.

I crashed through my own shadow with superhuman strength,

sprinting towards this saviour that seemed sacrosanct.

The flittering lights that would only flicker,

soon formed a floating orb dancing across my field of vision;

like a love-struck paramour, in boulevards Parisian.  

Free at last; at last, my love had come along,

equipped with all I needed so that I could carry on.

The emptiness within me, was once again so barren,

as hollow as my head all the times before that I had fallen.

I was not only filled but teeming, overflowing with such joy;

for I was freshly dressed in a brand new love and ready to be destroyed.

Race Relations.

Equality is a falsified notion—that is now more clear than ever before
as race relations that were already tense have finally evolved into an all out war.
Black lives matter, they claimed, until nine more lives were lost,
still, we march on, as we shall overcome, regardless of the cost.

Our children are daily forced to pledge allegiance to one nation,
with dishonest promises of liberty and justice that only ever result in aggravation.
There is no justice for people of colour,
for we are denied the same privilege bestowed upon the others.

There are no in or out-groups, no us versus them,
in this system built on lies that needs to be condemned.
The civil rights movement now seems like it was all in vain,
as the blood of our brothers and sisters still stains the streets
and ends up circling the drain.

The emancipation proclamation may as well have remained unsigned,
with every step forward, we have fallen twice as many steps behind.
Today, I am filled with such voracious rage
that brings to mind images of the slaves that built these cities, only to be caged.

Speeches made by remarkable men like Malcolm X and Dr. King
have only been forgotten as the oppressed are still suffering.
I, too, have a dream that one day we will be judged by the content of our character
and not by the colour of our skin;
loved for what is within, and not just based on melanin.

This vicious cycle seems to have no end in sight,
only resulting in unanswered prayers and sleepless, tear-filled nights.
Is it any wonder why the people are angry and afraid,
desperate to take the law into their own hands for promises of reparations that were never paid?

Is there any question as to why protests erupt into full blown riots,
once reality sets in, it is impossible to remain quiet.
This American dream has proven to be a nightmare,
for the land of the free still refuses to play fair.

Laws are made then disobeyed whilst all the rules continue to be broken,
this flawed justice system was designed to keep us enslaved,
ensuring that the truth remains unspoken.
I, for one, will not be silenced until humanity is saved,
as I fight for innocent souls buried prematurely in unmarked graves.

I will not rest until there is only one human race,
instead of the trauma that comes with feeling alienated or displaced.
Education and acceptance are the only keys that can unlock these
hate filled gates of oppression, united we will stand again,
once we choose love and atone for our transgressions.

Herstory.

Baby girls barely old enough to walk are now being tempted to run, before they've even turned one.
Every day tells the same tired sex sells story, through magazine covers
and the media's attempt to make a woman feel as if she should be sorry.
Forced to apologize for her lack of feminine charms,
unless she has too much and becomes a target for masculine harm.
It cannot be unlearned once it's embedded in a child's tiny mind,
that beauty is all that matters, so one must never fall behind.

Plumpers and polishes, push-up bras and pearls
are just a sample of what is needed in order to be a real girl.
Despite all the advancements and steps taken in the fight for women's rights,
they are told it will all have been in vain without a man at home to warm her bed at night.
False standards and phony ideals result in eating disorders in the race for sex appeal.
Airbrushed models that are impossibly thin, lead so many teenage girls to strive for unattainable perfection.

As male counterparts are taught to hunt and provide,
women learn to cook and rear children but never how to survive.
Failed by a society that is sickly obsessed with looks,
no beauty pageant was ever won based on a contestant's love for books.
In developing nations, the birth of female progeny is considered a curse,
often leading to infanticide by parents ignorant to a woman's worth.
These same societies refuse to send their girls to school, afraid that knowledge is power that creates women that are impossible to control.

The wage gap in the west only succeeds to press the notion that men are truly best,
earning more on every dollar and often doing less.
Daughters of Eve are still being punished for her original sin,
kicked down more times than lifted up for having the misfortune of being born a woman.
Patriarchs and feudal lords alike always seem to forget,
the mothers who raised them that are now repaid with disrespect.
Misogyny has run rampant and is now an epidemic, the byproduct of years of oppression that has always been systemic.

History itself has focused on the victories of men,
even though there have been just as many triumphant, powerful women.
I pray for a world where gender roles cease to exist,
one in which discrimination between the sexes has been dismissed.
I still have hope that one day women are no strangers to equality
and are no longer victims of abuse or frivolity.
Female lives matter, a new generation of girls is on the rise, and they will not be silenced until the world has heard its cries.
What better time than now for mankind to realize
that the women we objectified for so long should only ever be prized.