segunda-feira, 1 de junho de 2026

A color in dream spring( ANSUZ)

 
Ohhh.... oh oh, oh oh

All of them landed in, in line 
Dupes on them
Thoughts slide in to a saunter
Merely frugal glim

Pray of wreck they say there
Foul trees were a good throne
Hey I'm there a lever yonder... wave my wand!

Tears breed what is merely too sicky, so go around
Afraid of getting us a lousy bridge trolls under frown
Loki lays a lover,  leaves her, now is a colder guy
see greed vie under the olden tile the fade gray mind

Odin a color the other one storming a loser
fortify neither, you there still as a glacier
Freya falls, but sing soothsayer, fold of fate, release her

Hey I'm a lever yonder, wrath is want!


When she writes about me

 The way she digests me
The way she looks into me
Sees the depth of reflection
measures the salt and sugar of me

I hear her inner conversation whitteling her love
Connections under her slowly building above
A universe in her heart reaching out to mine
Conducted by emotion fed by her mind

She sighs and prays for an intense sensuality such
Single electric touch that puts perspective in so much
That recognition that goes beyond eyes, flirt or crush
Such flavor explodes, excites and alleviates
Gripping her, shouting like a loud opiate

Yet it all started with a glance 
the contact on fine glass
Low expectations great inspiration
Imminent inner carousal to overwhelming arousal


Their kitchen of joy

 In their big kitchen where most of their life was spent
Food a metaphor for so many other things
For connections and rapport
For a sign of wealth and health

For sharing and exchanging
An excuse for social times 
Jokes and anecdotes that continue for hours
The satisfaction they feel in harmony

The son that wasn't his, he embraced
And that son became a mirror of him
The charm and the smile
The need for excessive food and drink

The big kitchen was their heaven
There they could witness kindness
Wield irony and good humor
Until the walls themselves could smile

Saved by the grenade

 They led me up the hill. 
we were slipping on dry broken braken.
And slithers of splintered machetes.
Somewhere up ahead they will put me to death.

Continue their guerilla war.
Under the cover of this jungle.
The youths make jokes.
And check their magazines.

We make it to the ridgeline and duck.
The distant sound of helicopters.
I arrange my mind to meet my end.
I see their anger their anticipation of my last breath.

For I took many of them in the dark.
Strangling and cutting them.
Being the predator they feared.
But now I'm caught and they'll kill me.

A grenade explodes a few meters ahead.
The noise shatters my eardrums.
But the I throw myself down the hill.
I am alive but i feel dead.

Minutes later some soldiers prop me up and cut my ropes.
"Lieutenant, we have several of them alive."
"Take them back to camp for questioning."
They arm me and send a drone to confirm I survived.

Now I will hunt down each of their groups.
My loyal shadow unit hate daylight.
Our enemy may never sleep.
For our forays begin after nightfall.


domingo, 31 de maio de 2026

Where death perches

 Death sits between two birds
Its kingdom vast
Shade condones wings
Beaks are bowed in reverence

An even symmetry about them
Breezeless afternoon empty blue
Crooked necks soothsayer posture
Resting on their hunches

Fearless and grandiose
Awaiting dusk in the shade
Conversations in silence
Spread wings stench of violence

A top the brick roof
Of a church that has been decaying
Since the last millenium
Now the home of two king vultures

Oh well I am

 The well I am
The flow of me
The well I dream
The one I pretend to be

Permeates underground
Between sheets of rock
Grand boulders
That never see sunlight
Water I am

Water i pretend to be
Am I contaminated?
Am I clean?
Long since known my PH

Silt washes down stream into me
Will I come alive at it's minerals
Will I rise from the courses
Before each drop of me is dispersed into the sea

For now i inhabit this space inside this well
Where the bucket falls and rises each day
And takes more and more from me

What time negotiates

 Growing up I tried not to lose who I was
Part of it would be destroyed
A piece of me

But was it a great one
Or not so much
Was it something unique I lost

Or some aspect that could not survive
In a world of such grinding contrasts
A piece of me crushed and discarded

The years demand such sacrifices too
Time doesn't just run over us
It begs homage and offering

Thus We must give parts of ourselves away
To accompany the minutes and hours
Years and decades

Growing up I tried not to give too much away
But time takes it the way taxes fall off salary
When I accepted I was also blessed

That new pieces were coming and settling
So that I wouldn't ever be the same man I was
So that i would be the boy in the garden but the man over a city

In that essence time would make no negotiation
As if time itself wanted to see what I would become
Like the deal it had with fate fell through

The predictions all wrong
Satisfied with parts of myself I already gave
And yet fascinated with what I had chosen to keep for eternity