Poesía realizada en los primeros meses del 2014 por éste servidor. Compuesto por tres partes, la primera Connatural donde se busca hablar del yo, Luciferinas donde se habla del amor y El Enjambre refiriéndose a la lucha de países.

Something happened the other week, rather unexpected if I so may say. Someone else, not me; myself or I, liked something that I I had written. I had forgotten I submitted poems back in March, never really thinking I would have a chance. But the guest editor of Dead Flowers - A Poetry Rag, brought joy to my heart when she included one of my poems in Volume 1, Number 12, published on July 31, 2013. Thank you Candace for including my poem and thank you jayarrarr for promoting Dead Flowers. Dead F

I don’t know you But you smoke I don’t know you But we spoke - briefly I don’t know you But I love your red coat I don’t know you But butterflies roam inside I don’t know you But I hope one day I will

Someone shot at me today, a shot from beyond and afar. In broad daylight with bipeds, scattered all around. There’s was no hesitation, in the friendly gorgeous smile. But Cupid’s arrow failed once more, to penetrate the heart.

Is it too much to ask for A pair of lips With a gentle face To study in detail To study from afar I gently touch them and Suck Them - on a Saturday night They’re in my dreams Not far away I awake and Long for those cherry lips Is it too much to ask for A pair for Christmas This year also This year too

No love and no loss Two hands in one pocket With lust and glossy lips The hangover not wanted Know yourself and Know thy enemy Seek not what they want But shed a tear when they flee in fear Your empty pocket Cold Empty pocket Lost No time to spare No love and no loss Ever

Upon the path of the lesser knowing, wind chill roaming and icicles forming, the whores are out tonight. Beyond the realm of reason, insanity rules the world, with the false and the fake and the great pretenders, prayers for guidance are heard. The sole survivor ponders and preys upon the weak, the lame, the rotten and the stink, the shadows of solitude are real. With a sigh, and without hope, I close the door and weep.

I don’t know you But you smoke I don’t know you But we spoke - briefly I don’t know you But I love your red coat I don’t know you But butterflies roam inside I don’t know you But I hope one day I will

Go gently with me as my bones are brittle and my heart is cracking more by every passing day with the sound of little feet fading further and further into the shadows of that we perceive as real and closer and closer to the edge of that which is only dream.

Sun-kissed and birdsong not doubting I’m in love - proper the sweetest kiss and the everlasting love I found fading fast as I awake My exploded chest folds back into place and hibernates

once more we face the end of the the world as we know it and we can no longer go on as we did so we have to change to improve to forgive and forget but honestly it is just the same shit but a different year

poetry

Segundo poemario sin ilustraciones.

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