Memories Don’t Live Like Humans

My friends forgot
but I held the memories close
and when I hit replay
thoughts of the moments roll in
with the warmth
of what they represented.
I reach out to my friends
but they turn and stare
like what we shared
was inconsequential; something trivial.
Yet, to me, this memories stay dear
and, as at the time of creation,
I thought the essence was clear.
Although my friends
have downgraded the memories
I will always hold them dear
For in the end,
memories don’t live like humans
and there’s nothing wrong with that.

Glory

I don’t take glory seriously
because I know, like seasons,
they eventually cease to be
and the switch-off
could catch one cold
like an unprepared winter night;
fingers frozen
like summer gelato
in tourist’s hand.

I take substance wholeheartedly
the collection of traits that make me;
what I am made of,
the things that drive me.
I hold dreams closely
places I want to be
aspirations that should come to life.
For everything on the outside
revolves at its pace
but what is inside is the key to me.

Flipped Page

Like plantain
in the heat of getting fried
sides are flipped
to get it done.
Similarly, a flipped coin
decides the game’s starter
and in semblance
a switch is flipped
for light to stay or be put off.
But let’s dwell on the switch a bit;
a young man woke up
kissed his wife good morning
responded to the greetings of his kids
made his presence felt online
switched on his day
to see the promises envisioned
in his night sleep.
Against the run of play
the switch flipped
cutting off the life of a healthy man
the whole community cried “adieu”
his page flipped over
…goodnight.

Travel safe, Chris.

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