Poetry

Rain.

“What do birds say?” Rain is showering the soil;big moment for the gigantic soulof planet Earth,to chill, contemplate and drink. What do birds sayto the crying heavens,with their soaking feathersflapping in the air. What do the predators say,patrolling boundaries of the realm,paws slapping puddles on the surface,searching for the borders now erased. Me?I become mute … Continue reading Rain.

Dance.

“In truth, is you that’ll save me.” Stood there in the cornerlike some forgotten roman sculpture,a relic reproduced, now stands collecting dust;became a network for the spiders,sending data to each otherdown the sticky ropesbetween the steel strings. I holdand place you gently on my lap,wiping off the sheet of dust,destroying linksof the networking insect hackers,like … Continue reading Dance.

Expanse.

“Freedom is intoxicating.” Strange to feelthe inner peace and constant love,to feel reborn, rebuilt machine,still missing screws,but still… Yearned this feelingvery much,so many timesthroughout the breaths of time. Now, out of nowhere,gone the need to fight external forces,blocking the path dimly lighten by fate. Now the fight begins within the kingdom,time to pass new laws,get … Continue reading Expanse.

Duality.

“Ironically can’t live without the rules of the system.” At times he feels elatedeyes translate emotionwith humor, positivity,a drop of naivety seen in children;trusting, smiling,living in utopiaof tomorrow’s day. Then come the daysof greyness, rain, and thunder,when eyes are only focused on the mud, stuckbetween the fingernails of the passer-by. Within his mindhe bleached those … Continue reading Duality.

Canary.

“We look inside and see a simple office.” Little canary lyingon the surface of the branchscratching back with a yellow wing,couch potato, watching TV, eating seeds. When the sun is shining through the window,canary can see the screen with crisp perfection,no hindrance, unstaged drama, a panorama of the day;if you may, sit down on near … Continue reading Canary.

Sacrifice.

“A deal conducted by the parties.” Matches lined up in the boxlike sardines, soldiers, or marines,on the line of fireready to ignite and shine. Patches on the surface of the skincovering the holes and stitches,lining silver, time expanding,preaching of the cold and winter trees. A deal conducted by the parties,a little shout, a little dance,an … Continue reading Sacrifice.

Guardian.

“Hendrix jamming through the speaker.” Night and Iare sharing wine,playing with the feelingsof one another. Hendrix jamming through the speakerin the corner of the room, music took himto the future, or future shaped through his music,or music and future walk together,holding hands, passing age, and cutting time. It’s only me and metal pipes,looking at the … Continue reading Guardian.

The Voice.

“Voice is hiding with the forest creatures.” Confused precautionsbuilding barriersaround the walls,spilling light-weight wordsthrough the snoopy voicethat’s gone, alone,in search of destiny beyond. It passes peaks and creeks,lost its bearing in the cloud,absent power in the water,a portal to the void, a moist dimensionwith different rules of nature. Continues journeythrough the valley past the yellow … Continue reading The Voice.

Bitter Liquid.

“The language of emotion is the most difficult to master.” Apologetic letter,raining words and singing songsof truce, forgiveness,symbol lost its meaningin the pool of bitter tears. Let us taste this fluidtogether, unified as one;I’ll be the lipsand you the tongue,toying with the liquid,like it’s enemy captured,waiting for the disposalto the pit of hungry snakes. Flavor … Continue reading Bitter Liquid.

Polar Bear.

“Traveling the empty frozen plains.” The eyes are on the journeythrough the flat and empty desertfilled with cracks and holes;it’s rough and solid,white and coldceiling, held by cornersof the four-bedroom walls. Muscle, bones,like the puddle of honeyfrom the ancient wooden keg,broken into by the hungry bear. Polar beasttraveling the empty frozen plains,and the sky is … Continue reading Polar Bear.

Means of Transportation.

“Primal, primitive desire.” I had a dream,my hands behind the steering wheellooking at the curvesof the racing track ahead. Thoughts racing in my head,trying to escape,like water from a boiling kettledancing to the adrenaline and heat. I know I’m asleep,it’s part illusion, part deceit,part a wishand part a poison spiked with fear. In truth,I’m not … Continue reading Means of Transportation.

Horseman.

“Patience is a virtue of the dead.” Needle, thread,stitching scars,filling empty gapin the chest. Tailor of the reinsswaying wild foal,master equestrian stance,a castellan of all that’s undisclosed,keys swinging around the solid belt. The voice of reasonpenetrating pensive pacing head,bringing hope,looking further in the distance. Patience is a virtue of the dead,but we waitsubmerged in the … Continue reading Horseman.

Everlasting Soul.

“Circle sitting on the ground.” My ship is not searchingfor the mystical Aztec fortune,nor do I seek the fame of Cortes. Boat is boundto the sunken shores of Atlantida,and toxic lakes of Pandora,exploring ocean floorfor the lost artifactsof my imagination. As I touch these shiny pearls,static flashback,to the childhood visionor a dream,showing clearing by the … Continue reading Everlasting Soul.

Resocialization.

“Blooming flower on the sidewalk.” Cosmic penitentiary,endless rows of alien inmateslooking at the stars,thinking of the planetclosest to the soul. Unpassable see-through screenseparates and divides,different races, ideologies, and crime. Last chow,pat on the backfrom a distant relative,sharing destiny and good-luck wishes. No hands,no need for cuffs,nowhere to run or fly,following the faceless officerto the edge, … Continue reading Resocialization.

Desert Gloom.

“Eyes are portal to the soul.” Oh lord,don’t solidify my inners,don’t imprint the mark of hateon my face,stop boiling my blood,poisoning my heart.—-Eyes are portal to the soul.I need no facial expressionor hand gesticulationto witness,the barbaric horroryou find yourself in. Poison burning slowlywhen the law,became the tongue of the viper,when the maker silentto the cry … Continue reading Desert Gloom.

King of Syracuse.

“Blooming flower on the sidewalk.” Mirror mirror on the wall,poster stuck to a wooden door,pride left shuttered on the floorfingers twisting the handleof the radio below. It’s slippery and wetfrom the fallen midnight tears,butterfingers pressing buttonsto resupply the salty liquid. Like ocean water,calming hallucinogenic pillor meditation of deceit,fools treat, spoiled meaton the feastof my forgotten … Continue reading King of Syracuse.

Small Things.

“Blooming flower on the sidewalk.” I miss the treesthat I have never seen,my woods are lonelymetal lampposts,on the streets of a foreign city. I miss the time,mirrored in the iris of my eye,when people got drunkon the beauty of life. Small things,seen as insignificant and given,schedule, rush, and angry phone callis the main focus of … Continue reading Small Things.

The Arab Boy.

“Telling me to ask all the questions that I have.” Black pantsblack shirt,some say he’s got a dark soul,but all I saw wasthe adolescent eyes,filled with curiosity, attraction,pinch of fearand burning impulseto cross the forbidden bridge. He takes the first step,approaching slowly, casually,our eyes meet,a boost of confidence at least. He wears no mask,revealing the … Continue reading The Arab Boy.

Ancient Beast.

“I yield and take a knee.” Stone-cold staircasespiraling down,illuminated by the torcheswielding dancing turquoise flame,radiating frozen breaththat I take through the nostrils,burning tender inner skin. I land at the bottomof this ancient citadel,greeted by the heavy metal gate,unproportionate, somewhat alien. I try to push the frozen bars,click of fingers, gun-like pop,chains have fallen off the … Continue reading Ancient Beast.

Eden Lily.

“It exploded like a bubble made of soap” There is something beautiful in the distance. Some spiritual lily radiating fervor, passion. Fragile nirvana plant, cocooned by the magnetic field, with colorful electric roots fondling the invisible aura.It’s beating, stepping closer in my direction. Enthusiastic flower calling me at nights, I can’t digress from its virgin … Continue reading Eden Lily.

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