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THE DARK

At night.
The wind.
The crack.
The lighting.
Out of light.
Thunder.
Downpour.
Cats meowing.
Dogs barking.
Screams.
Knocking at the door.
(On the window in the fourth floor?)
Knocking from the roof.
Knocking from inside the closet.
More weird knockings.
Sweating.
When will the lights come back?
Nothing can be seen.
Too many noises.
The lights won't come back.
Drowsiness.
Dreaming?
Morning.
Closed eyes feel the warmth on the face.
Yawning.
Open eyes.
Darkness.
At ten?

IRRELEVANCE

from sunrise to sunset,
from Monday to Friday,
from pay day to pay day,
from waning to waxing
small irrelevant differences
everyday that passes by
to the final sentence.

THE WAYS OF LOVE

I'm finally fed up with love poems.

Are there work poems?
I'm in love with my new job!

CYCLES

Is it that when one door shuts a window opens?
Or... do you have to close the door before you open the window?
Can't you simply just walk away from the room?

POEMS ARE ABOUT

Poets have written about many different topics.
About life, death, love and their personal antics.
They use sarcasm, imagery, alliteration
but there is no doubt they all part from inspiration
(and ninety percent perspiration).
They wrap feelings in haikais, sonnets, ballads
some ate oysters, some had saladas.
But it is a fact they don't have to write about distanced lovers
or relationships that refuse to be over.

I miss my Shadow.