The mind flight station

 Inside the aeroplane of my life
Formality of airports
My own level of discipline
I always say no

I deny the outside power
These turbines have become robust
Sending me far above the skies
Why am I always flying

I cling to the wall inside the plane
The plane shakes
panels start to loosen
Twelve thousand feet above

Inside my mind 
it is an airport
Busy confused and chaotic
Every thought lining up at each gate

There is nowhere to sit
There is only a sense of forward
I deny the clouds outside
At this altitude I get nauseas

Repouso and purgatory

 His wife skipped ahead across thos rocks that layered the lane
Driven by a fiercesome urge to move ahead as if movement itself would save her

The husband dawdles though and checks through each shop window
They've finally met at the end of the lane and one thing has become absolutely obvious
They've walked down the wrong and can be seen asking for directions from a young woman

The woman tries to explain to them at which point in the village they actually are
Her gestures seem to make the old couple even more shocked
Yes a kind of confusion kicks in but it was not the normal kind, not what is expected
Their faces expressed a guild mixed with bewilderment

As if they were tresspassing in heaven

Eyes from above

 The man is in the window 
his eyes lazerlike down from a the balcony window
The eyes aware survey below including me

over the tree stumps that have become holders for bromeliads
Centennial trees barely dressed in leaves
He stares down from the darkness of the second story

Observing from there
healthy face and curiosity
Jutting out to capture the movement below

 

Barnsdale forest

 It's a dry ditch and im walking through it
Not to be seen by the local retainers
Old neighbors who were sworn in as soldiers
Patrolling the roads and trails

Not too bright though that much was true
I got close enough to the forest edge to enter
They hadn't seen and I was in the undergrowth and clear
Deeper into the forest foraging what I could

Then to building my shelter
I would be forced to become a hermit
To survive between these tyrannical kingdoms
Like a ghost an unrecognizable entity

Fudge up the mountain

 She is fudge
Longing for the prickly back growth
To hit the skin on both sides
Then sweat breaks out
Brazen friction

The quads and the hips work crazy
Oil pump constant
She is fudge and I am in like...
A paranoid criminal trying to get it done
Before the authorities are alerted

Though I an aspiring sherpa
Slow pace running up the mountain
Goose bumps knitting threads over my spine
Feeling that pressure and the friction
The pleasure of that fudge 

Little red legs

 Big grey body in two parts
A very ambitious arachnid
Climbing up the bag brace
Toward the shoulder

I put you down on the ancient pavement
Witnessing you carefully
As you jump tiny puddles 
To make your way back to my bench

Cheering the flamingo on with those red legs
Approaching me I see you are the ever seasoned predator
With a mouth so tiny it is smaller than the eye of a needle

Chafariz do pedreira(fountain)

 Three hundred years ago
Under this tropical shade

Thick slabs of stone make the praça
The vase atop the fountain
Collecting deadleaves and bird droppings
Bromelias hang down cooling the hot hands of tropeiros

Oversized brass taps protrude from the huge marble slats
Filling the waterskins and cans of the port's parched and weary
Their temporary stay before the demand  for goods drives them inland
Or out into the treacherous sea