drawing by me: "Cry" a cartoon series called "Mutilation"
* This is a poem rescued from a series of poems to which I called "The Seasons":
TENDERNESS OF THE DEAD BUTTERFLY
Along with spring she can be seen on the floor dead with colorful wings, the same as the wind be responsible for removing. In the lines of a dead butterfly
I can read the confessions that I save time in heavenly signs within it rose and played before saying goodbye. Poor you
not colorful garden of my eyes poor
miss you already without ever seeing you (live) faded butterfly
you fell to the ground as a tear wound
some surreal eye and melancholy Will you have fallen from my eyes? Maybe that's why I generate and so sad I cry, instead of salt: dead butterflies.
chewing daisies pure hatred ...
"What for others is tenderness for me is ill beneficial" (LG)
Uff a thousand days without posting anything, thanks to all who follow me like , even a hanging! long ago do not write poetry to follow my impulses, and I'm experimenting with other forms ... But this so far is a blog of poetry, no? xD well, luckily I have a file crazy:) are not very old alike but have already the first time is a rare description speaks of the silence and the windows (I never have liked but they think) and the second is about an angel ornaments:
DEAD HOURS THAT MY BREATH
Three windows
in this room at night
three windows flashing
between the strange lights
the nocturnal world
sometimes revealing so many things,
my idle hours
through three windows
this room, this house
three windows, a triangle.
Room Three windows had
of my childhood,
had two windows in the attic next
where ghosts lived
but had one more, the hidden window
is that nobody looked toward the ceiling
where it entered the starlight
and amazing mysteries
around the cosmos,
through windows
my idle hours , breathing.
visible windows had bars
black painted metal and earth
where birds
who played was the branches of a tree.
Large windows for sun
always necessary
is beautiful regardless of their light
the sleep I wake
clear Sunday.
the wind my hair II
"... two days in life are never bad, in any way that is life ... "
