Poem of Experience: Morning Musings

Since the beginning, there was only the word

Each sy-lla-ble transcribed from God’s mouth

As he spat upon the formless mass, each speck transforming into a new part of Earth,

Yet we took the forbidden fruit, and were cast out

We built buildings, hands sweating and grinding in unified rebellion

But God scattered us all over the Earth, so we could not sin again

Now, each culture and race became distinct and unique

Now, lay grounds for rounds war based off of different physiques

Gun shots symbolize the beginning of a race war

Now as I run, I feel that my feet are cut by blades

Green knives no longer tickle my feet like before

As I look, no comrades come to my aid

Alone, I ponder why I am so different,

I shrink back to uninviting covers, asking why I am so distant

From my old reality where everyone seemed the same

When all that used to separate me and my friends was a name

Why has my skin become that of a banana?

Yellow streaks flashing like my Jordan Retro 99s

Bright hues stab my side and illuminate me

Illuminating the judgement that people place about my outside

There is no sweet fleshy interior on the inside

And I can’t peel off this skin

It has now become a part of me,

As my yoke becomes heavy and I am the cause of other’s sin

My dialect has become numbers,

Adding up and multiplying into a symphony of formulas

I am no longer allowed to love English

Playing the saxophone no more, I am a violin-playing member of the orchestra

Strings of lies drip like soggy noodles

That I “eat every day”

As I pray, to my Buddhist god

Though I wish to show the truth, others don’t believe what I say

Now, there is no mention of other food

Greek Gyros, Vietnamese Pho, and Chicago Style Hot Dogs,

German Bratwurst, Polish Dumplings, and Indian Curry

All disappear amidst the rice, ramen, and legs of frogs

But one thing continues to remain the same

My kimchee has become thick, piquant peppers sting my mouth

Each herb burning scarlet Asian characters within my body

The spices showing prices that I must pay to be myself

I slump defeated upon my blanketed sanctuary

Thoughts vanish of me having a different story

Drowned out by the waves that crash against the coast of the Far East

New memories drown out the old days of glory