Poetry Of Tnava-le

  The morning is cool on this sunny day As she runs through the busy park The others around her are oblivious to her Like the moonlight that often appears after dark     This running she started not too long ago Has become an obsession of hers since then A few days a week, it’s part of her life Never being a question of if, but when   From the time she started this work on her body The distances have become longer and more difficult Tracking her progress during every run Having the feeling of wasted time without a pleasing result   With each stride over the hard pavement Her ankles feel like sticks of fire The ones who don’t run rarely understand It’s something that goes beyond desire  

  The little things can mean a lot, even the ones of bad Taking you off your path, turning your life into misery The smallest of the small, can depress even the toughest Like a centipede bringing down the ferocious lion   A rumor that’s spoken, whether it’s true or not Can bring unforgiving fire to one’s mental state Invading social media, it can spread like the forest fire Quick to engulf, and slow to extinguish   Even when the spoken bad is confirmed to not be true It’s hard for people to believe it was a lie Very few want their minds changed from the negative news The many want to believe someone has a life as bad as theirs

  The ship captain has ridden these waves before So experience is in his ancient DNA His mates on his vessel, aren’t familiar with these waters So they’re frightened, as they view the soaring of the waves   The ship moves back and forth with abandon Very few will witness these waters of anger up close They’ve told the crew, you’re not having an easy ride They still have work to do, while the waves sway the ship   When the waves are calm in the open sea The world seems like the most peaceful place But when the sea awakens, even when expected to do so It lets every vessel know that its slumber is over

  Walking on this concrete It’s not kind to my feet There’s rarely an evenness As I stroll down this street   I trample over gravel from time to time Feeling like the rocks have pinched my soles With some steps I’ll sometimes cringe Having a concern for my sensitive toes   It’s the best I can do Navigating with bare feet, not a good thing Covering is always needed on this land Be it summer, autumn, winter or spring

  Their shouts are heard around the world The protesting has become a global view The oppression of them, has caused their rage So to the streets they go, women and children are hiding   Their original whispers sounded like mice on cotton No response to their pleas for even basic needs So their voices became measurable by decibels For good measure, parts of their city had bonfires   What was at first local, became international We’re not in this village, so this isn’t our in-person view But our neighbors are familiar with the people So our understanding has at least a degree or more   Rare has it been, to have these actions where WE are The ones at the top, would never be THIS cold to us Though we’ve simmered many times over the years Everyone knows how catastrophic going overboard can get

  What will they find today, where so few roam Scavengers and seekers of food, they’re often known to be On foot or by vehicle, they travel down these smelly parts Looking on the ground or in the dumpsters against the bricks   Hunger is what envelopes some of these alley touring souls The food that’s eatable, they’re not picky after all The restaurants and other places, discard without care Free within these dumpsters, treats without any costs to speak of   The searchers of the non-edibles, will venture through as well What ever they can find, that can turn into cash The size doesn’t matter, as long as it can transport The alleys are always open for business, no matter the hunter