Exodus of Expectations 013
Exodus of Expectations
BOOK 1 Prayers
PART 3 Past Impressions/Present Amnesia
CHAPTER 13 Missing Faces and Conjecture
Timothy Vincent Alexander
AS I LIVED THROUGH AMIL MEMORIES I would realize how little I actually knew of Karima's life before America. That said what I knew was potent, horrid, and stark enough to give me a deep impression of what had shaped her. The earliest of her childhood memories I know of is of explosions going off all around her as easily as rain falls in some place she thought of as religious and peaceful before it was assaulted by the terrorism of war. She never specified if the explosions were due to Russians, Mujahedeen, or the Taliban - for her it was beside the point. Running away for her life with her parents and her first and older brother I know only she started in Afghanistan and ended up in Pakistan. That broad stroke of her past alone was enough to wound me into sympathy for her. Arguably those explosions were the g
RED HOOD and THE OUTLAWSRED HOOD and THE OUTLAWS3 years ago in Free Verse More Like This
The bullets, arrows, and fires belong to
The hood, the archer, and the star.
All three are surrounded by violence,
All three come from violence.
The hood comes from death.
The archer comes from addiction.
The star comes from slavery.
Together they fight,
Together they even kill,
But also together
They mend each other wounds.
ANGEL WINGS MADE OF THREADS NOT FEATHERSA mother's son was murdered for wearing a hoodie.ANGEL WINGS MADE OF THREADS NOT FEATHERS3 years ago in Free Verse More Like This
A daughter's mother was murdered for wearing a head scarf.
Both lived in a country that claims to be United rather than Divided.
Oh how far the Truth is from the Dream!
Not a dream though is that both articles of clothing were guardians angels.
For even in death the hoodie gave the boy warmth.
For even in death the headscarf gave the woman modesty.
Two traits the killers - the terrorists - of neither have any Thread of.
May it not be just a dream that justice is served,
That the terrorists have no warmth and modesty in prison.
Meanwhile it shall always be truth
That those taken away from their love ones
Are in heaven telling those left behind,
"Always remember I love you."
Memories of a Dragonkin SeerMemories of a Dragonkin Seer3 years ago in Free Verse More Like This
The Dragonkin seer cries at knowing the future.
She lives knowing when her love ones shall die.
She thinks that is no way to live.
Her friend the black cat thinks knowing the future must be exciting.
To the Dragonkin seer however such makes life not worth living
For she feels more like a watcher than participant in her own life.
When she meets the Destruct ,
The son of the Creator,
She like him cannot tell if he shall destroy the world
Or bring about it rebirth.
Regardless she herself feels reborn because of him
Since now she is finally blind to the future.
Memories of a Half-BreedMemories of a Half-Breed3 years ago in Free Verse More Like This
The son of a wolf king and a woman was hated by all but his mother.
One day a stone meant for him hit his mother instead of him.
The wolf in him grew excited at the sight of his mother's blood.
More exciting to him through
Was the thought of killing he who had casted the stone.
Before the boy could murder
More stones were thrown upon him.
Before his bloodlust for murder could grow
His mother shielded him from the stones.
Watching his mother shield him
The son of the wolf king and a woman well of rage
Became replace by an ocean of desire for peace.
CLOUDYA sky full of clouds looks like a blank canvas.CLOUDY1 year ago in Free Verse More Like This
While a canvas depicting a cloudy sky is full of paint.
Are nature and man so opposed?
Rain colors the world, paint colors the canvas.
Both Mother Nature and the artist’s hand can be gentle or cruel.
A violent flood, much needed rain.
A depiction of needless death, a depiction of love.
Is the comparison of artist to nature too kind?
A soldier can save lives as well as take them.
Just as rain can drown and revive life.
The same can’t be said of a shower of bullets?
The threat of bullets like a flood can bring people together.
Nothing is simple when it is akin to a cloudy sky.
THE OUROBOROS HIJAB?THE CHOICE: "The veil means nothing if it is imposed by law rather than personal choice. It is no longer about modesty but uniform. Once it is uniform it becomes about absurdity rather than discretion. A single strand of hair can become pornographic. Sincerity is sadly lost.THE OUROBOROS HIJAB?2 years ago in Flash Fiction & Vignettes More Like This
THE LAW: "If anything the legal enforcement of the veil guarantees sincerity. It makes it so no frivolous sight of a sister more intimate person is seen as easily as a public street. Like the virgin who saves the breaking of her seal for her husband the legal enforcement of the veil makes for the elements of person it covers elevated in honor."
THE CHOICE: "Honor is to be like the moon rather than the stars. Among only lights radiance has no distinction for one lacks contrast to distinguish it as good. Even the excrement of a dog can be uniform."
THE LAW: "You forget that the light of the moon much like the waste of the dog cannot exist without nourishment of sunlight
For Naja LoversPlease insert your name in the _________ spots. Other than that, enjoy!For Naja Lovers4 years ago in Short Stories More Like This
You lean against a cherry tree, smiling up to the sun's rays. You always liked the spring continent. Not too hot, not too cold. And even better: cherry blossom trees dominating the whole countryside in full bloom. But today, you think, is perfect for a daydream under one of those trees. Especially with a certain half-beastman...
You shake your head vigorously. No way in ten million years would Naja actually go outside. He was the studious type; probably burying his nose into a complicated book. The other day you attempted to skim over his notes he made about that book. That was the first and last time you're going to read the 108 laws of robotics.
"Hello,_______" Naja greets you. You jump at least 5 metres in the air before nervously replying back. "O-oh, hi..." A blush creeps onto your cheeks, colouring your face similar to a tomato.
He looks at you with a concerned look. "Are you feeling alright? Your
I used to be that broken one...You don’t deserve my tearsI used to be that broken one...1 year ago in Free Verse More Like This
My sadness or happiness
None of it
Do you hear me?
You deserve nothing of this
You ruined me
Brought just misery
And it’s killing me
Part by part unstoppably
I scream at night
I laugh into the mirror
I pray for light
But I’m a sinner
I left behind
Everything between us
And I’m not alright
I’m just a failure
I had my chance
And I ripped your heart
I made it stop
I laugh at you
Crying out loud
Forgive me or better not
But I will never ever stop
Better look me in the eye
And take away my empty life
Go, take it, don’t hesitate
Started to ruin, so finish it
Do it, don’t make me wait
I know you will get over it
But I am done
No longer want to participate
In this quest of love and hate
Memories of a BearMemories of a Bear3 years ago in Free Verse More Like This
The bear knows well the proverbs of friendship.
Better one excellent friend than many bad ones.
Still a brother is not always borne for adversity.
The bear and his friend fought as proxies in a duel for perverse men.
The bear lost his eye to his friend
But did not mind for wounds from a friend can be trusted.
The bear's friend however lost his life
Yet covered over the offense with silence on the manner.
Instead the bear's friend spoke of his sister
Whom he asked the bear to take care of
For he didn't want to leave his sister alone with gossip
Which would only separate all three even more.
A White CrayonI'm like a white crayon in a box of crayons …A White Crayon2 years ago in Emotional More Like This
Sitting there in my corner quietly , watching all the other colors being selected and used ,each one of them is taking its role in coloring a pretty drawing , While I remain sharp and clean ,unused .
But I try my best to hold this thin thread of hope . A hope that ,one day ,a skillful artist will come and he'll know my value ,my worth ,my beauty .
To him ,I'll be the most useful color ,the crayon that he can't live without . And together ,we shall draw the most beautiful paintings .
I'll keep this hope as much as I can ,wishing that the box won't be thrown away before that artist come .
SKIN IS DEEPER THAN CLOTHIt is a two sad days when hate and fear stop being skin deep and become only clothing deep.SKIN IS DEEPER THAN CLOTH3 years ago in Free Verse More Like This
For the shirt off my back as well as the hoodie or hijab off my head could be yours as well as mines.
And because our son is your son and your mother is our mother -
Just like the clothes we can all lovingly share to keep warm in this cold world together.
See My HeartIf you had beenSee My Heart1 year ago in Traditional Fixed Forms More Like This
What I've been through
Your heart would beat a-mile-a minute
You'd see what these people do
Say disaster? Say, what's in it?!
If you had taken steps
Steps to those poison places
You could see-see
Seen how people change their pretty faces
You could feel from a distance
As a distance quickly grows
You could feel a decision
Before it ever even rose
To the top! Of that iceberg, with your tipping ship
Downwards, slow motion, with what you thought of it
But don't stop, stop! Thinking how you always go
Don't! Stop thinking about these things that you don't know
If you see, and if you feel the sweetness, in a slow sedation
Then without-a-doubt, I hope you felt it within your whole nation
For a sky! For a reason, to remain the golden child
Then ask me why? Any season pain is always runnin' wild?
I can hold you. I can help you.. without any type of cost
Don't be scared, I've been in this! I won't leave you feeling lost
If you had me, the way I had you, then you'd feel no strain