Poem: Felong of The Soul

Felony of the Soul 

desecrated, left-in the masses of the shadows you breathed
falling through the crevices you pulled open with your savaged hands
watching your smile melt like unfortunate currencies, killing all that survives in you too
glancing at physical karma bring down the frame of a picture that thought it owned its beauty
a picture that never once acknowledged its maker- gleaming before their eyes, radiating artistic lies
of a past that it had never lived through
of a heart it struggled to sustain heart, of a heart it hardened through some spite and loneliness-
leaning toward being coined a psychological monstrosity
falling and getting looked at all at once, and watching the ground shy away from the dirt of his fall
feeling in its dwindling heartbeats what rejection feels like for the very time
thinking then only in his despair of the day he committed that "silly little romantic crime."
but you insisted on arriving afterwards, painting the world sepia and black, eloping from time.

©RaeezJacobs. Poetry. 2013

[POEM] bangle Theory

-my decrepit state is an art form, and 
I will always allow myself colour; 
Bursts of laughter, toasts, 
Sex, and hope, in all that would come afterwards. 
I couldn't always cling to it, 
They say, the hands of a poet 
Is numbed, 
When the bangles of misery 
Begin wrapping themselves 
'Round the tattooed arms of youth. 
I still seek the truth, 
And lend myself to his jargon- 
Pretending to understand, 
Pretending to know; 
Keeping up the appearance, of someone 
Whose eyes, have a view of their head, 
While really, I know so little, 
That my bones crack whenever 
Knowledge jumps at me, 
From the pages of his biography. 
And secretly, I buck violently- 
Corner-to-corner, like a stone 
Underneath a floor, trembling by some vibration. 
And sometimes I even cry more than 
An appalled god, whose hair 
Was cut by his angels; whose followers 
Turned their heads, 
Whose heaven suddenly 
Became so earth, he had to stoop. 
I was a child of his parenthood, 
Taking baby steps, 
And tryin'a convince myself 
That, I will supersede 
The bangles of misery, 
By turning my tears into art.
         
                                                                  -Raeez Jacobs

© Raeez Jacobs. 2012.