Friday, August 10, 2012


The rain did not stop falling.
Unlike dodging bullets
Or thwarting muggers

The rain doesn't decide
Who to fall on
Nor where or when

It just does.
And when it does,
Run you all, into the crevice
whence you came

Or a high tree,
Cling to electrical wires.

While the rain pours,
Children swim in the coffee water,
Men jigger on the streets,

You wander why people
Cannot erase that awful smile

You see, in my country,
A smile is free.

But after the rain
There will be costs

After all, death is not.

So do the hustle
Sound the alarm
Let the chariots waiting
Take us all

After all,
On doomsday,
Death is free.


Helen said...

Your poem is intense and feels very real ... beautifully composed.

amidemanila said...

Thanks Helen.

Kerry O'Connor said...

You words are so well-chosen for this scenario that you put your reader right there, in the coffee coloured water, dreading the clouds in the sky.

amidemanila said...

It happens all the time... Thanks kerry.feels nice to join.

Susan said...

Oh my. The rain, the electric lines, brown water, and all--but relax!

"On doomsday, Death is free."

This hit me right in the stomach, and then it broke my heart beautifully.

Grace said...

It always rains and floods at around this great cost ~

Fireblossom said...

I once heard a song that went "It's not on your account that I'm leaving, if I'm leaving; it's not for the flowers that it's raining, if it's raining; it just rains, that's all." This made me remember it.