“Our Postponement” Wednesday Poem on Thursday

On the eve of the night
with a hug that’s irreparable.
His lanky hand‘s accommodating,
silently we know what splendid disorder is,
we know rigorous annoyance
and our postponement’s never specified.

“Lost Windows” Wednesday Poem

My only open window
comes out humming
songs of months already lost.
And only opens windows
that look out on pedestrians.
As I turn my gaze half hidden toward the sun.

“We Return Spontaneously” Wednesday Poem on Thursday









We enter the origin,
the how and the forever
then we go — prostrate.
And we turn ourselves around three times,
postponing recognition and that honeyed thing,
so we may contain ourselves to achieve a new sensation
that we do not know exists.
 

“I Discovered New Fables in Green Silence” Wednesday Poem

Dressed in my destiny,
living the hours in spontaneity
with few rainbows.
In the middle of this fable:
The words surround me.
Maybe I can slide onto the canvas
and enter the city — invisible.

“The Breath and The Verb” Wednesday Poem on Thursday





Stars are pupils among
the waves in the sea
as a dragonfly passes under the sun
and breaks the still current of the moment.
 

“Rain Falls on September” Wednesday Poem on Thursday

Inside me there is laughter,
the spirit; a secret fire light
that dwells in my body
like a cry that is exorcised from within.
I want to return to April
to be with the friends who did not show up this spring,
or maybe I will be with them in a foreseeable winter.

“Paper Boats” Wednesday Poem on Thursday

My life’s in the corners
as I try to hold on to the balance of the world
when God rises from the ruins,
while the sons of men make their universe
on paper boats that get smashed.
There’s no joy,
except in the projection of their universe.

“Written in Eyes Inward” Wednesday Poem on Wednesday


Vulnerable as it continues,
the sun,
the afternoon,
and the cries are from the same eyes,
everything is water in this shared night.
I discover my body in the wall,
a vestige emerging with misty fingers adhered to no one,
an embrace of warm hardship,
inhabited in serene blue.

“Beasts of Darkness” Wednesday Poem

I do not think darkness is secondary,
It is viable on my pupils
and perpetuates in my soul.
I try not to think about violence
but the sensations are monumental
because the deepest thing is to love without suffering.
I leave my doors open to the wind,
as I exorcise the indolence and phrases,
the stubborn beasts that make us lose our way.

“Suspicion of Yourself” Wednesday Poem

In the morning when you wake up
from your highest towers,
the wind can devastate
the stature of birds.
And when the sun begins to hide,
weaving light into objects.
You regret the loss of your soul,
with a little of God diminished in the air.