With a galaxial name,
It has nothing of the stars out earth.
No much but a humble maid,
Waltzing in a prairie among other skirts plied in eight.
Soon a rugged rebel,
Pinching skin,
Hitch hiking way.
Going to foreign patches of lawn across the stone divided fields.
Cracked skull,
Its contents leaking onto earth.
A white tentacle probes the air.
Gravity pulls,
Down the anchor tries bed.
A little hard, a little raw.
Down and down and down.
The skull explodes.
A green hand salutes.
And the once zombie chap
Waves November's light.
Ton la hoja rebota,
Ton el cosmos se dobla.
Ton sobre el pasto cae.
Un ejército mordelon.
Invisible.
Ton, ton, ton.
Solo audible.
A cada paso,
El rumor.
Hoyos en el verdor.
I'll walk that wall.
Leave behind,
Every dream that was trashed.
Plunge into the sea,
Proud and abide.
Linked to my own colour of time.
Everything I wanted untrue by design.
No matter the scars,
I'll look down upon.
Upon that long entrance,
Where darkness gulps you entire.
I'll walk that wall.
That's all I call.
Behind the glass there's past.
Severed.
Unknown.
A great empire.
Outside,
The rain.
Work to be done coming.
Mud to be removed.
It won't be magnificent.
I'll live under the unglory of today,
Pretending not to die till I find my place in world.
Hurry up and disappear,
The human’s here!
But I landed right on it….
Jump, jump, free!
On the wild weeds hidden be.
Unrelentingly curious,
The weeds moved aside.
Black eyes it stared and I:
Just a picture my good Sir?
Thanks, bye.
Plaf plaf plaf.
Bajito bajito.
Apenas como un suspiro,
Aliento de sol de un ratito.
Cuentas de mineral de oxígeno cortando el instante,
La luz era una sonrisa Polaroid.
Guardalo y enmarañalo.
Sácalo del cajón y examina.
Poco a poco hace sentido.
Torcido.
Minado.
Dañado.
Estás ahí,
Con años encima.
Estás así,
Con cobardía de sandía.
No muerto.
No vivo.
Esperando por un día.
Photo by Matthias Zomer on Pexels.com
En el alhajero del bosque,
Con joyas de goma que sueltan esporas.
Y gotas de vidrio que se evaporan.
Los tesoros se suman y se suceden con la fortuna lluvia.
Minucias de seda pobladas de oberones negro-amarilloque devoran las ropas de Titania.
Uno tras otro se develan bajo las cortinas de frondas.
Cabeza abajo,
En oscuros misterios.
Las alas se mueven.
El pico arremete.
Después,
De entre las hojas se pierde.
