Etiqueta: Poetry

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To beloved ones

Jacket

three people in denim outfits

Photo by cottonbro studio on Pexels.com

Round and deformed,

Its red being a challenge of fit.

First the back took up a while,

Its big b making it un-straight.

Then the front wouldn’t reach.

Try two acute unmatching halves to make sense.

No shoulders to hold,

The seams to connect front with rear.

Arms too short for sleeves to run along.

Sewing by hand,

The machine’s presser quite big.

The fabric thick,

Thus hems were a no roll.

And bias binding was the same,

A shame.

Ah but I hold a master’s degree,

I’m a mule, you see.

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Palabras

Línea 102

pexels-photo-27968632.jpeg
Photo by L A on Pexels.com

Perpleja,

Un error en pantalla.

Crítico, por demás.

Mi sitio, gagá.

¿Qué arreglar?

¿Dónde descargar?

¿El qué, debería preguntar?

¡Cpanel, ábrete sesámo!

La contraseña no es esa.

Verdadero hay que marcar el debug,

Y la línea 102 del plug-in…

¿Faltan líneas si solo encuentro 70?

Descomprimir el achivo zip…

¿En qué carpeta del archivo raíz?

¿No debería figurar,

Esta carpeta con la etiqueta “merriam”?

¿Por qué “público” PHP?

Desconcierto.

¡Instalado! Puff.

El sitio,

¡Operativo!

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Palabras

Un poema

blue and white clouds
Photo by Oleg Karsakóv on Pexels.com

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.

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Varios

Ball game

tuxedo cat on wooden floor
Photo by Arina Krasnikova on Pexels.com

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.

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Interrupted

close up photo of black cat
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.
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Palabras

Bastards

grass in a crack in the asphalt
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

woman in car on sea shore
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

free range brown hen in sunny pasture
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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Penpal

Drinks up!

person pouring champagne on champagne flutes
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.

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Penpal

Delay

aerial view from airplane window during flight
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.