Rifhan Miller Poems

“As for me, I’m watercolour. I wash off”
So remove this canvas, once over, twice over
I am a pretty picture, a four leaf clover
Peripatetic in the wind: you seize it, and then you release it,
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I know a bubble boy,
I knew the boy before I got acquainted to his bubble.
He gave me a hug and smile
And then a bubble
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“As empty vessels make the loudest sound”,
“So they that have the least wit are the greatest blabbers”

Words are meaningless – Like a temporary tattoo;
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I have a map/ it rests next to my cell.
A large map/ a dormant cell
With continents I’ve visited, tasted, touched.
Vast seas aplenty I’ve sailed away on
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Someone once told me
That I’m some beauty queen
He couldn’t figure why
But he couldn’t take his eyes off my gaze and smile.
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The day before the day I lost my mind
Was the day I listened to the second hand of a clock
And consented it to it trash around my body and echo in my heart
My arteries thumped
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You: Whiteshoe Boy
How are your shoes today?
and those feet that rest in them?
Those feet that draw footsteps in the sand
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When the sun hits
It feels like walking into a brick wall
Sometimes being led out of darkness is not a good thing.
I still don’t see any better now than before;
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This Carcinogen Lady:
When God created humans out of soil,
A cigarette-smoking genie blew a balloon and thus she took shape.
While girls are made of sugar, spice and everything nice,
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The one who had swept me off my feet:
He has planted me back into the parched earth again,
and shackled me to his green-less thumb.
He is forcibly nurturing my attachment
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