domingo, 27 de noviembre de 2016

Beating and pounding

                                                                     To Griselda, a vibrant inspiration

Every thought
to be forgotten
Every ball of yarn
to its origin.
“You’re an artist
I’m a performer”
said she
to me,
but I dare to be a poet
without naming it.

So this is it
a bunch of 
and shouting “yes”
And what remains
in the sigh
is the unpredictable word
that sets the circle
in motion,
until something breaks it.

Can you stare 
at the moon
and not really recognize it?
Leaves fall down
but I pay attention to
the bees 
around linden trees.
They alone
make a poem
with images
beautifully arranged,
with adjectives
fitting together
like puzzles,
and falling 
like dominoes.

the way you dispose words
like flower bouquets
especially chosen 
because of their colours.
And that is all
what people usually
have to say to me.
the romantic sort of poet,
of your own feelings -
A full time

Crush me, then
bend me,
I’m an artist
completing the circle

and breaking it.