Like an Error Correction
It is you on one side
And me
On the other side of the silence.
We agree as weird as it comes
That there is Poetry
Quiet and humble beyond what
We can call by the first name.
Words, rhymes, and easy metaphors,
Brown bag lunches, assorted, vacuum packed
nuts and yellow raisins
Crowd the library shelves…
Oh, how we color the world
With stereo nightingales and larks!
But there, way out there,
A universe moving sigh,
The never-mind,
Like an error correction.
The Night of a Family Dog
The night is crawling
Heartless and slow
Moonless above.
Nothing to guard but a wind
Playing the squeaky gates…
Nothing to throw a bark on, nothing to show for
When a push comes to shove.
The daylight breaks the silence,
Wet grass echoing bells of fog
And the cold creeps in
Chasing away the sleepiness
Of that old farmer’s dog
The Scenery of Inner Me
This is I, whether you see me or not,
A built-in chaos, too bothersome
For a good night sleep.
Mountains of blue annoyances!
Stop it! You are not the sky,
Not my sky, at least!
To many graves in my deep within,
So many that I shed tombstones
Through my tears.
So much past in my life of past dues
So many start overs, so many fears.
“Tomorrow will be a better night,
Better than all tomorrows” says the poet,
“Let it be, I shall be fine,
Buried in death and sorrows,
None of those mine”
Nothing New
The same as wherever
From bellow to above…
A man and a dog,
And the leash in their love.
“How long you live” is better said “how much”
Slavomir Almajan's Blog 