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"Escribe con los pies, poeta de la calle" "Write with your feet, poet of the street" days of no inspiration, nights of emptiness irritation, labor strife strives to divide, the desire, the greedy needy, to unburden, touch lips to tablet, unsatisfied, muse departed for foreign lads in foreign lands, where dark eyed ladies sing put the load right right on me where once I saw poetry, now I see lessons of less, trees blowing whipped me frenzied, saw cappuccino foaming, revisited, now, see but tired dancers, de-auditioned, sent home to wonder, poets with paper cuts but no bleeding, so eager so desirous of conceiving, thinking, will I ever......................................again once, every step a poem, every sidewalk crack, a smack down of nuance, eye recorded, mind disordered, run home, to dance each vision into words, gloria, glorious just to walk my city streets once upon a time, a traffic light rainbow, stopped n' go, was a word design, demarcated visions of spun sugar, bodegas sold me magic beans by the pound, masterminded into cups of delight, treasury's bounty overflowed, now, dregs drain, sink stained, as are my writing utensils, my ink stained, us-less, fingers come visit me, unknown stranger, let us exchange fluidity, barbs, a contest of kissing, eye lashing wit ands shared vision stashing, and together, once more, write with our feet, while holding hands, becoming once more poets of the street. Only, come quickly,
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Jul 2, 2013
Jul 2, 2013 at 5:31 PM UTC
Escribe con los pies, poeta de la calle (Write with your feet, poet of the street)
"Escribe con los pies, poeta de la calle" "Write with your feet, poet of the street" days of no inspiration, nights of emptiness irritation, labor strife strives to divide, the desire, the greedy needy, to unburden, touch lips to tablet, unsatisfied, muse departed for foreign lads in foreign lands, where dark eyed ladies sing put the load right right on me where once I saw poetry, now I see lessons of less, trees blowing whipped me frenzied, saw cappuccino foaming, revisited, now, see but tired dancers, de-auditioned, sent home to wonder, poets with paper cuts but no bleeding, so eager so desirous of conceiving, thinking, will I ever......................................again once, every step a poem, every sidewalk crack, a smack down of nuance, eye recorded, mind disordered, run home, to dance each vision into words, gloria, glorious just to walk my city streets once upon a time, a traffic light rainbow, stopped n' go, was a word design, demarcated visions of spun sugar, bodegas sold me magic beans by the pound, masterminded into cups of delight, treasury's bounty overflowed, now, dregs drain, sink stained, as are my writing utensils, my ink stained, us-less, fingers come visit me, unknown stranger, let us exchange fluidity, barbs, a contest of kissing, eye lashing wit ands shared vision stashing, and together, once more, write with our feet, while holding hands, becoming once more poets of the street. Only, come quickly,
Oct 13th, 2012 1:36 pm Tinkered with July 2nd, 2013
nat-lipstadt
Written by
99/M/NYC/Lippstadt/Kraków
Jul 2, 2013
Jul 2, 2013 at 5:31 PM UTC
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