aborted the pregnancy of last night
words were killed in the womb
and no grief or tear shed upon them
all those days past
when we waited the embrace of nights
to clasp bodies and enlace
like entertwined old vines
covering the walls of old buildings
Didn't you hear my scream my wailing
my moaning my complaining
didn't you see the immensity
of a desir storming like a stream
going to become a great river
flowing with words of poetry
words of love, passion
loss and grief
didn't you see the beauty
in all of it
don't you know the lyrics
of a song sang by the great Brel
"on a vu souvent
rejaillir le feu
d'un ancien volcan
qu'on croyait trop vieux"
All you did
was asking for words
to make you feel good and alive
did'nt you think ever
that I'm like an
empty platform
at dawn
when your train just left
Give me some of your poetry
the poetry of your youth
don't you know
that browsing memory
might destroy dawn's promise
of a bright day
such as the one
you wish me everyday
Flora
No comments:
Post a Comment