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.
Etiqueta: poem
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Ball game
Photo by Arina Krasnikova on Pexels.com -
Interrupted
Photo by Craig Adderley on Pexels.com
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. -
Bastards
Photo by Chris F on Pexels.com
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.
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License
Photo by Nadezhda Moryak on Pexels.com
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.
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New roomates
Photo by Rahime Gül on Pexels.com 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?
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Drinks up!
Photo by cottonbro studio on Pexels.com
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
Photo by Zhanna Filimonenko on Pexels.com
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
Photo by David Bartus on Pexels.com
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
Photo by PicFoods.com on Pexels.com
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 para una respuesta. -
Por la ventana
Photo by Pixabay on Pexels.com
Descolmillada mi nena.
Con ronroneo de problemas.
La que pierde al ratón,
Y se asusta de sorpresa.
La que me cuenta el día en puras quejas.
Una tortura de pelos,
Al cepillo con recelo y un concierto de penas.
Pero en mis brazos se sueña.