Written by Jacob Ibrag
On my way to work, all I see are characters. The nerd
who finally gets the girl. The dapper gentlemen who’s secretly a
spy. The girl sitting across from me who’s going through a phase. Maybe
she’s changing careers and is right on the cusp of a cliche movie eureka
moment. They pay no attention to me, an extra inhaling their oxygen.
I am the camera, I am a non place. I am late to my own rat race.
Photo by Ben Hope
F_ck! This is incredible! Powerful – POWERFUL – imagery.
The last line really drives a nail into the entire poem. I loved this dance with words! Thank you for sharing it!
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Nice one Jacob
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Thanks Karen π
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I think Watchers always feel that way. They do however play a very important role. They are the memories of our race, the public manifestation of our collective unconscious.
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Great play in words and time and space in general. Simply fantastic!
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Thanks David π
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I especially enjoyed the last line.
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Thank you π
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Reblogged this on The Reluctant Poet.
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It is interesting and good to observe other people. One learns a lot about character and learn to figure out things about human beings. Thank for sharing your thoughts and views. Sending greetings from Down Under Aussie. Hope everything is going good in your part of the world and You π
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Thank you! I hope all is well with you too π
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Jacob, you have the eyes that see plus the words that characterize.
Long time, no see.
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Thanks Anita! π
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