23 lutego 2017
A Love And Hate Story
I was learning, how
not to catch you.
Called the cloud
hugging a hillside.
Can you climb on the road?
No, it said, I want to play with the moon.
So,
this was becoming,
without presence.
An epiphany? No it was a crying
theme, discovery of the self.
When the tremors came,
you were flung like a doll,
opening the earth
one breath long.
Swallows were eyeing the sky.
•
The hollow tree
traps the light and sends out
the blue pupils of yellow eyes.
I am still counting the limbs
under the boulders.
The landmass was moving asking names.
The big vulture was watching
the end of the feast,
for schizophrenics.
A bomb hidden in turban will
kill a saint. You say I should
call for the girls.
Why don't you wear the skullcap
to cover the beautiful mind
which will not kiss the fire?
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