Categoría: Sunday word hunter: poetry and nonsense
-
Interrupted
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.
-
License
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…
-
New roomates
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,…
-
Cadmium yellow
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…
-
Drinks up!
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.
-
Delay
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.
-
La ambulancia N
Llega de estupor anuncio,Nuestra ambulancia negra.Y trepa.La ventana es puerta.Zampa de croquetas y con lo que sea,Se llena.Balón andante se pone.Viene al cuarto,Cama arriba gruñe.¿De qué se queja cuando sueña?Adiós muy buenas,Con su sirena,Cuando el turno completa.
-
Más piña
Leve e imperceptible.Apenas.Alitas que murmuran traducidas una luna llena.Las hojas que llegan:Mi espera que entregas.Vueltas y vueltas el planeta;Un océano dispuesto entre tierras.El idioma del imperio,Y sin embargo…Nada en común que no sea problema.Tú, que escuchas tristeza.Yo que aullo de metal al sol,En un frenesí extraviado de felicidad.¿A qué hora cenas?Así terminan mis letras.Cuento contigo…