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Motor Sounds At The Streets....

waking up from a nightmare
there was this woman in black
leaving the house
and
blown by the ill wind
towards the
rugged terrains of the
mountains

gone.

as i rub my eyes
from the dusts of sleep
i am met by the crazy sounds
of the motorcycles
down the street
at rizal avenue

this is a cruel world
so unforgiving
this is the world that that black woman
is shaping
from her rough hands
from those unpredictable movements
of the lines of her palms
imagining doom
always looking at the end of her world
stars shutting their own lights
planets turning into
powder
meteors hitting one another
like kids without
their mothers.

poem by Ric S. Bastasa
Added by Poetry Lover
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