Happy Hallows

Pumpkins carved, like child teeth
costumes hang around closets
bats, candy and skeletons, wizards and leaves and violins
damn the violins, that's all you hear
but death is optional
sometimes its necessary to just be
in character

image copyright: google search. 

Sharps,Flats, Neutrals

The notes come like bricks
make them slowly
piece by piece put them together
it is the series of sharps and flats
you hear

there are a few solitary creatures
unpicked and left behind like rotting leaves
on the pavements of autumn
these are the flats
you hear when you focus

and then disasters come together
in duos, like rain and earthquakes
like smoke and fire
like the flower dangling form the gun's nape
these are the sharps
you could possibly hear amid the noise

there are still those, like daily bread
risers for work
feeders of chocolate,
some who worry about the birds getting wet
and the sky turning into earth for a prayer
those are neutrals
sitting on the margins
of music.

Bright eyes

The sun, she knows hurts her
like the edge of sharp mirrors cutting into her hands
too much of one thing
spoils the rest
too much light
spoils color.

she knows his eyes hurt her
the way a thistle pricks
an unsuspecting child
intense and soft
too much of his eyes
spoil her stomach.

she knows that the end
lines to places, distant or near
would hurt her, like death
like dreading the daylight

she knows it all because
only bright eyes, like his, like hers
contemplate darkness

Pastpresent

the distance between tomorrow and yesterday
is essentially the same
divide it by four, multiply it by insignificant details
lack of attention to the change of the clouds
or the departed when they depart
the reminisce begins when the seconds pass
the distance between tomorrow and yesterday is essentially the same
it's the purity in each second that makes
the bigger separation

On a separation wall

The graffiti left behind, baring names of people
questions, without their punctual marks.

(Inspired by Ezra Pound, clearly)

Cemented

Something crackles inside
it is loud, like race-bikes on a dirt road
I can smell the burning of tires and the lifting of stones
as I move my shoulders
Something started crackling inside of me
and for a reason I cannot figure
when? where or how?
Something barks inside of me
like a homeless dog, like an injured child
it seeks me when I least expect it
demanding my full attention
Something crackles on the left side of my body
ah! must be the heart surgeon,
last month, he ripped out my heart
and cemented its place with bricks.

How to split a body into two

                    I. 

It is one thing to handle what comes your way 

it is another to handle your snores, 

loud and vulgar like the laughter of a midnight dancer

deprived of sleep 

I lie, contemplating the night as your chest rises and your head falls 

into visions I can no longer access,

 places I'm no longer interested to explore 

I know your body by the inch, you know my brain by the corner

we are even

                          II. 

Half open, you leave each morning

the toothpaste cap, now in front of me

mine or yours?  We stopped asking a long time ago

when questioning ends, you blend like color in paint

you make a new color, your own 

                         III. 

Try a drop of oil, I suggest to you

you can rub the oil on your shoulders where it hurts 

You tell me you've been carrying boxes, weights 

I say I can relieve you from the ocean that's on your back

but you turn your head toward the bedroom door

and I stay with the television, talking senseless 

reporting a world, miles away closer yet than 

the stairway to our bed.

                      VI. 

Tonight is another dark room

the curtains are fully closed

it is awfully quiet here, under the clean linen

smelling of fresh roses

there's no snoring tonight

but I cannot fall asleep.