Poetry: Alarm call

By: Denise Pereira

You are not in debt my friend. Your

pockets are a cascade of stranded

verses, longing for being reunited

in a collection of poetry. Verses

that drop as caged birds, flying

around the purple sky, before a

loud and lush storm. 

Your eyes, rolling image after image,

clicking nature and broken landscapes,

into portraits of hope and redemption.

Eyeballs fixing, the pedestrians mad and

lonely journey, like butterfly wings

clipped, into taxonomic drawers. 

Creation longs for you. Leaves you hundreds of lost calls,

follows your every move, in the hope of a smile and a

kiss. "You are not in debt, you know?" She says. "Those

tasks can pile up and wait and wait even more". We will

never be truly broken by those who wish for our

invisibility. Letting our art out is the best way to allow

justice to prevail. 

You still believe it is a choice. But I am

telling you, that life chooses beforehand,

and she will never give up on you, even if

you consider giving up on yourself. 

Every tear is a reminder, that the road is there to

follow and challenge, and should you turn your

back, again and again, there will be countless

hands to pull you back, even if life needs

endless plot twists to unfold and trap you. 

Build that firewall around you. Choose energy

saving mode on your settings. Create as you

walk, may your body be your canvas. Talk as

you recite the holy words of the dead masters,

bless them as you curse and caress them. Keep

your journals close to your chest, but spit those

words like fire, because the world needs as

many as can inspire and digress. You will never

be forgotten. You may never be forgotten. 

And please remember: you are not in debt my friend.