I rest in the crossed-fixed arrows that point
in two Directions across my back.
Like the legs of my mother
Category: Shorts+Poetry
Moderns. Mannerisms. Monochrome.
A POEM ABOUT UNDERSTANDING THE UNDERSTANDING OF UNDERSTANDING.
Yelling At a Dead Person
We had a river of love, it’s just flowing from my eyes now.
Alejandro de la Cruz: The man from El Cerro
I was a poet before I was a writer of many kinds of formats. I didn’t like it at first but later I got the hang of it. I read a lot of scriptures and books and whatever I liked I rewrote so I could get into the rhythm that the writer was in. Returning to poetry reminds me of my youth and it really gets what’s going on in my head on paper easier.
Can I Have Some Change
“I was feeling something that I’ve never felt while in my dreams … The skin peeled slowly off … And when I woke up I found myself scratching my hand …”
In my cell of a room
” … Though it is cold and since mother nature knows you oh so well, She added steep hills in your travels to keep you oh so warm …”