A Dreamer in Court
For the first time, I’m actually seeing a real court room. It was always in American movies that I have seen a court room with a judge and lawyers. Now, here I am, I’m the topic of discussion and argument. The case is on me or I’m the case to be divorced or no to be divorced.
The funny part of it, after a year of separation, the title to be divorced or being married in separation does not bother me any more. Does not accelerate my anger anymore and I’m here standing, wanting to defy the room that I’m in, the court system and the legal system that seems to be so oblivious for someone who has a job as a dreamer as me.
The dreamer inside of me had enough of being restrained and chained. Yes, I want to break loose to dream once more. To write as many love poems as I can get the touch of inspiration and to that someone who is just an imaginary someone. As the dreamer in me, enjoys romantic poetry, for is it so beautiful. It is once upon romance time within entanglement of words and love and taking love, to be so happening as when we keep dreaming for a bit longer time. There will always be that kind of provoking feeling and splint of arousing touch carried forward through poetic words.
So here I am in this dry dreadful court room, defending for the right to be a dreamer again.
The funny part of it, after a year of separation, the title to be divorced or being married in separation does not bother me any more. Does not accelerate my anger anymore and I’m here standing, wanting to defy the room that I’m in, the court system and the legal system that seems to be so oblivious for someone who has a job as a dreamer as me.
The dreamer inside of me had enough of being restrained and chained. Yes, I want to break loose to dream once more. To write as many love poems as I can get the touch of inspiration and to that someone who is just an imaginary someone. As the dreamer in me, enjoys romantic poetry, for is it so beautiful. It is once upon romance time within entanglement of words and love and taking love, to be so happening as when we keep dreaming for a bit longer time. There will always be that kind of provoking feeling and splint of arousing touch carried forward through poetic words.
So here I am in this dry dreadful court room, defending for the right to be a dreamer again.
posted by iamnasra at 6:36 AM
1 Comments:
Courtrooms always seem the dustydry hard echowy spaces which try to give import to words and situations. Judgements are arrived at mostly informed by the judge and the society in which he (or she) exists.
It is a passage to final word like it or not!
I am sorry that it didn't work out with your first love.
But you have the kids and your poetry to pursue to the future.
Break out your new freedom, I will read . . .
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