Sunday, February 22, 2015

Monotonous Melodies

The clouds stop momentarily here
before they abort their rain, 
down on the valley, down on the houses 
tapping the tin roofs with clanks 
when it rains, it rains outdoors
but here the clouds stop momentarily 
to watch what their brats do when they land
land on my hair, right where it is parted in the morning 
two braids, one eastern one western 
before school. In the midst of my hair, a drop takes shape
I wipe it and walk to the corner of my room.

Here, the clouds stop momentarily, 
mother asks where the last bucket goes
the sound of heaven's music dances on our roof
the tin roof of water and dad's dreams, 
or our reality. I have lived these walls for years
I have heard the sky's melody each time the clouds decided 
to pay us a visit. Like violins, somber, salty 
the sky plays on, adds drums at night for a complete orchestra
adds pipes for rhythms. Adds hunger upon hunger 
for my brother's holed stomach
but only adds water in plentiful,

The clouds stop momentarily here 
to abort the remains of their failed carriage 
the clouds stop momentarily here and I can speak loud and clear
I turn to my mother, a bucket in her hand
the red bucket adds to the melody of the skies
aren't you sick of this music? 
aren't these monotonous melodies?

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