Tehvitan Ibele

Resonance

The new must inevitably
Disturb the old
As pebbles flung to the pond
Break the surface--rippling--
As older rocks once did.

A moment

His smooth locks of dark black hair shaded most of his left eye, threatening to sprawl to his right—the

harsh wind did little to uncover his face.

Would you like a catalog to see what we have to offer?

His stern face did not at all match its roundness. His coat fused nicely with his hair.

He continued walking and without looking, paid me the smallest bit of attention possible.

Nothankyou.

This parse--this bit of memorized speech--struck me and shattered into the wisps of wind.

You could’ve looked at me at least.

 

My heart sank.

I was careless.

I walked back after a small journey.

I’m sorry about before, I’ve had a long day.

He blankly gazed into my eyes.

It’s no problem, my friend.

Medicine

Do you ever...
Yes sir?
Well. Do you ever get a certain feeling...?
As opposed to an uncertain feeling, sir?
No, no, a certain feeling that you understand everything.
No sir.
And that everyone else does not.
Yes sir.
That you can become something more than man?
No sir.
And everyone else can not.
Yes sir.
Do they have pills for that?
Pills for believing oneself to be the Nietzschean Übermensch?
Yeah.
No sir, not yet.

Color

Red blue black gray,
They settled on the barren
Land and swept it all away.
Green white blue brown,
From village to village--
Town to tired town.
They tore the kites
Down from the
Trees
And melted all the metal.
Red blue black gray,
The color slowly drained away.

Long wait for a train don't come

I walked down my favorite riot-proofed hallway (it was the one that seemed most familiar) and saw three important words, a period, and a signature on a doorway. The first word was bold and human, singing her self, her dreams and hopes; the second word was the word of life, the word every one waits for, thrown around not as a testament to its immortality, but in ignorance to its fragility, seldom meant and seldom understood; the third word stood presumptuous, dealing with things beyond her knowledge--mine as well. The period stopped me. The signature flowed onward as I stood halted. I waited for the addressed to wake up inside and open the door and smile, or perhaps the signer to walk down the hallway to wait. 

I waited. 

My cold breath weaving through the winter draft.
My immovable feet throbbing against the white leather of my shoes.