The Poetry Marathon

Before Darkness

I counted each little finger and toe

So I knew how many should be there

When I woke up

 

Before Darkness

I would hum a certain tune

Over and over, starting from the beginning

If i were interrupted by thought or sound

So I knew that I would wake up breathing

 

Before Darkness

I washed my hands, trying to achieve

Perfect thoughtlessness

So I knew that my family members would be safe

 

Before Darkness

I avoided staring at the thing in my room

That I couldn’t get rid of

That I couldn’t stop thinking of

The bad luck charm

So I would wake up the next day

 

Before Darkness

I gave into the darkness

Only sleep was a respite in the sun

Before Darkness

promises sleep
and dreams
are suffocated by Ambien
death becomes a play
told in three acts

my favorite part
is the end.

Before Darkness

Delighted for the coming spring,

Clouds started dancing and jumping,

not noticing,

while they are twirling,

their handsome dress started falling,

Unveil a grey cloak, unbelieving,

and disapproving.

Before Darkness

I walk

in silence.

Knowing

what’s coming

doesn’t help

in the end.

Try resisting

waste of energy

it doesn’t matter

once I start

my descent.

Then the crying

and the rage

thoroughly convinced

it’s not supposed

to be this way.

All these feelings

before darkness

comes to swallow

me whole again.

Touch

Barefoot on the side of my walk…

Before Darkness

Come here beside me
sit skin close
hum of cicadas
vibrate between us
dusk dampness
rises from the earth
lean to me
only our weight
to hold us upright
bury our toes in the sand
only these tiny grains
to keep us warm

See Me Say It

You see my mouth …
Funny little smiles,
Between each word.
My friendly nature …
Or hiding the fear,
The sadness.

 

I look into your eyes…
Dark brown;
Skin light brown.
You find beauty…
In my white skin,
Like fresh snow.
You tell me in a note…
You find it beautiful.
I remember only a bit;
Of signs for you…
Years ago,
Studying how to speak;
To those who cannot hear.
A talker…
And a deaf man;
So much in common;
So little to in common!
Yet, you hear my eyes…
You read my soul,
Like no other who say they hear.
Deafness is not only for those…
Whose ears do not vibrate.
Many a man or woman;
Do not choose to hear.
You hear so much more;
Then they ever have.
Without words…
And when you speak;
The hands of an Artist;
The hands of words;
We communicate,
This talker hears more…
Within your eyes . . .
Your hands  . .
Your quiet ways.

To you, Fredy: He and I dated for six years. Afterwards, we decided being best friends works better. Two different or four different cultures. He is from Guatemala, I’m American; I am hearing, he is deaf.

Before Darkness

A cirrus robe softly obscures

the feet of Queen Cassiopeia with filaments

of ice refracting pale

the whitest glow of Selene’s winged steed.

Hephaestus strikes his anvil

Cumulonimbus, having fallen only once–

As if to hide the searing path

Of fragments that fall

Broken, again and again to the earth.

Before Darkness

The blazing, burning, bright sun lowers on the horizon,
changing into a giant burnt orange orb,
Splashing its dimming light out into the sky, surrendering,
Painting the clouds in shades of pink and lavender.
A slow, steady darkening of the sky,
the circular sound of the cicadas’ song,
a whispering of the leaves, as a cool breeze blows
welcoming the coming of darkness

Guns and bullets (Roses)

The world has stop

For every bullet drop.

Endless cry of a broken spirit echoes,

Until it scream no more.

Desperate tears dried out and

It flows no more.

Anger reverberate, in a series of echoes in the wilderness and

Stopping no more.

Guns and bullets.. roses no more.

Revenge, shaken the peace of the earth and

The cruelty of the world arise.

Blood of innocent victims, marked the cold pavement,

With red blood letters of hopelessness.

Guns and bullets, roses no more.

Violence erupted, towards the road to

Vengeance with no retreat,

Guns and bullets, roses no more.

 

 

 

 

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