Features and Friends · Poetry


Breathing in and breathing out this air like I have foreverWalking on these roads and bridges like my feet are forever mine to use.

Keeping my hands busy on the wheel, feeling comfy like I forever will have it with me.

Watching everything around me with these two eyes,

Seeing so much, wanting to ask that much, learning so much.

I asked God if He could fix a tiny cam recorder in my eyes.

He told me I have brains. I could keep record of every thing I see.

Maybe He didn’t understand why I asked for it.

All I ever want is to get a full tape of what my eyes have witnessed in this world.

Someday in my grave when there’s no communication

Perhaps, I could just press play and reminisce.

See once again whatever moment I miss.
I wonder how much it would cost to enjoy all the things I do daily: breathing, seeing, smelling, hearing, talking.

Maybe I would only know the worth of it all when I have them no more.

When I’m sick in bed and can’t have easy breath or feel movement in my limbs

My concern becomes to live as one without ailment or sickness of any sort

When I get better, I seem to not regard such thinking, because I am better.

On some days, I see ambulances in the streets, thinking that therein may lie a corpse, once human and full of life


I feel like I should live forever, never seeing the shadows of death.

Nor smelling death’s odour when it wanders in the skies searching for a body to visit.  

No! Death cannot even know my name.

But it just visited a close neighbor.

Was it scared to come at me? Ha!

Maybe I have some time more. Not sure it’ll be soon.

But just in case it comes for me, Lord give me a full tape of how good or bad I did in the world you created.

I wasn’t perfect, but I tried to be.

My soul is innocent. You can punish the body.

It made me do things I promised not to.

If there comes a time when you want to pardon a soul in the times of judgment, call my name.

For right now I try to be worth your abode.

I am just human; trying to be a new man!

                                       Josh, The little things

Image: Giorgio Vaselli, The Birth of Beauty


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