#Philosophistication

Pandora’s Jack in the Box

Skewed rosaries, Rosa in the back
seat mourning, tied hands and panting;
her breath Parking, hyperventilating,
it’s suffocation, fear mongering,
screeching wheels and dry hands
clutching on the steering, wind screen
and dust covering vision, she can’t see,
humps and quaking car, swerving and
hard turns, smell the tar, traffic jam
and brakes to stop this burning chariot, stolen
from the front lawn of that broken household,
lost pawn lost in wrong squares,
panic and sweating, nerves and
chest brewing whirlwinds, think
of the Job sermon, maybe this is
the testing, God’s way of loving.

Crying and teeth clutching on
her whimpering, new victim,
new trend on that poster,
soon to be absent on that class
roster, she had been remorseful with the
protests and aware of the
red flags from her street corner,
miss her bed and her sheets, bliss
she once found in that ignorance of
father deadbeating mother, kiss
her siblings bye when the memory stutters.
Think of the time when the rope
never held on to her flesh, now
some are about to drool to it, maybe
this is the brighter future they all
said she had on her back.

Stained thoughts, different story
and time flies when thought is
the context, now calling her gorgeous
when on the auction she’s about to be
staged to beasts with appetites,
fat fingers, politicians and Bureaucrats
and prophets sipping on blasphemy,
generals with uniforms and no
honour in the nation’s creed, validation
and brokenness, their insanity seems
too romanticized, bleak scene, tippy
toes and the mind is lost in the pain
in her jaw, back then when they knocked
her skull to Monsoon, bones snapping as
her joints stretch to caress their nonsense,
common sense definitely doesn’t condone
these sins, she’s dressed to caress their
erects, a standing ovation the first
she ever had in such a context,
confusion is rampant, her eyes
winding, fear and thoughts spiralling.

Head quaking, body stiffening,
squating and the pain leaking from
her optics, the ache is in her head,
hands shaking her skull’s contents,
she’s nagging her ancestral and losing
her gravity, screams and acoustic whimpers,
whispers from the surface when her
feet touched, breathing dragon,
she’s loosen her ties with her demise,
Rosa to Pandora;  new Lilith this time.
Eve, Adam is not your cradle!

By Eugene ‘Philosophisticater’

Artwork by Vimark

℗ Philosophistication Poetry ℗

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