Street Preachers (a poem)

spiritual growth – i used to be preoccupied with it

maybe i still am, fixated on flaws

all the ways i fall short of a standard

even saint francis couldn’t meet

on the streets, i’m incited by insights

from preachers who peddle notions

of salvation & give me holy books

i peruse by glow of lava lamps

in the comfort of compounds

where i keep my secrets

& share my miseries

(Photo by Mark Fletcher-Brown on Unsplash)

Seductive Voices (a poem)

I heard those seductive voices in darkness

not the ones you think

they weren’t from lipsticked-maidens

call girls nestled in hotel sheets

the voices were calls of

violence, conspiracy

they called not from red-light districts

but corners of the online world

they promised secrets of

the way the world worked –

I said no thank you, sir

your secrets are safe with me

but I won’t agree

to be part & parcel

to your devious proposals.

(Photo by NASA on Unsplash)