A dream not
For the things that pass down.
Perfect?
Hell no!
For the powder needed in white form.
Slightly yellowing inside and...
What else?
Skin that's gained experience?
Maybe thirty minutes at most,
Walking the streets, alone.
Lost the speed to run after the bus.
Maybe,
Just maybe.
A bit more than enough.
Apenas nada
Apenas cierto.
Claro como el cielo.
Helado sin prospectos.
Atorado en el esófago de aquello.
Un guisante en el desierto.
Diccionario escaso cuyas páginas en blanco esperan otro día.
Otro vistazo que alargue su vida.
Pintura derretida o pan de oro según decida.
No mi voluntad.
Sino tú vista.
Bounce and move,
Faster and smooth.
Claw on it,
Catch the thing.
Roll on floor,
Destroy!
I stare at you,
Why aren’t you?
Throw it again!
Slave.
When did she?
Again that black being!
Back to bed.
Await until.
Maybe more food on me.
Late at night?
Early at day?
What a ridiculous time, 3 am!
That's when he came.
Ate and went up to his lare.
Wake up time,
And the cat was nowhere.
No idea why,
Some come to life.
They’re weeds through concrete.
One day a crack,
The next, green by.
Some blossom by hearing news.
Crude gossip,
They persevere without context.
Cockroaches,
They survive the garbage bin.
Pencil scratch,
They fatten-thrill.
Step on gas,
Go slow or turn.
I don’t get this deal of drive.
It ain’t relaxing at all!
All times,
Your eyes can’t wander to sight,
The stores or the skies.
Left and right,
The mirror above,
Nothing you can’t distract from.
Mind your speed,
The car in front says “taxi”.
They’re a nuisance.
Drive better than I.
Which is why,
They bully the rest,
and cut ahead line.
Oh,
And if there’s a space,
It’s me who messes life.
All not to go,
Over there a hundred metres further tough.
Pin the hen,
Protested.
Toc toc toc,
A yellow eye scrutinizes grass.
Clo clo clo,
Run fast.
Here it comes, the peck.
Drop it there;
It’s white.
Green too may I ask?
Why here?
Where are we to begin with?
Close to the fence,
The cat pries.
Big fat birds,
Nice breakfast.
Lunch or snack…
Michi come’re!
Nightie night
And tomorrow,
Who did survive?
A painted bird,
Whose feathers remain still.
Such was the way my life.
Stuck on impossible currency.
Upiros puke for the blind,
Merry people of my land.
Stalking those, they bled for cash.
Again back to times of cuffs and gags.
Yet, the cuffs are good to parch streets
And gags keep peace of mind.
No matter how harsh the broken rights.
Soon will the ball bounce,
Among the three of North.
Beautiful like folk to celebrate the stain!
For one founder of the Petrol law,
Has been reduced to marsh.
And we, as sensible chaps,
Care of ourselves the main concern through all.
Silent there is,
But oh what joy in it.
Thinking about,
I can recall I miss.
And then,
Whimsy play,
A little bit of me.
Send across.
Not dislike.
Just my doubts.
My eager thought.
How to like what I don't know?
How to bear what was not dreamt about?
Is there a way to deserve much more?
To not quiet my noes.
When it's impersonal my cog.
You're you and me the I,
It has taken too long to become.
That's your cue I guess,
To stop and run away.