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There was this burglar 
With a master plan, 
Conceived long ago.  

To steal a precious Pearl, 
Kept under lock in a gilded box,
By a powerful man.  

He stole the pearl, 
And ran away,
But soon everybody 
was looking for him, 

The Police, the F. B. I, 
Spies from the C. I. A. 
and even the President 
Of the U.S.A.  

The powerful man 
Offered a reward 
Of one million dollars.  

And the authorities issued
An interstate arrest warrant
Across this big Nation, 
Wanting him Dead or alive.  

A fugitive for quite some time, 
Finally got forced into
An Inescapable Position.  

Cornered in a dead-end Street
With no way out, 
But to jump from
a one-mile-high cataract
at the end of the road. 

He had no choice but to jump, 
And he fell and fell
until the water down below, 
hard as concrete, 
Stop his fall. 

"He almost broke his neck, 
But he didn't." 
And you know, when you are young 
Time heals everything.  

And when he was lying there Wounded,
The pearl slipped out of his pocket,  
And this one was transformed into A Fairy, 
With a nacre shell colored Gown, 

And seeing him there, 
She took him in her arms,  
And disappearing into thin air, 
...Nobody saw them again.
A massive tabular Iceberg
floating among an ice sea.
Climate change-induced chaos,
Between disruption,
A new phenomenon has emerged.

In white, desolate landscapes,
a single building sits there.
Smoke came out from the chimney,
a cozy, warm blanket, and a cup of tea.

Blue and Orca whales,
Penguins and Sea lions as well.
Incomprehensible beauty,
and a reason that I cannot tell.

Pristine mountains, dramatic cliffs,
Majestic white openings, chasms, and rifts.
Mother Nature...Dying,
I can feel her pain.

A couple of Sparrows...Perching,
at the top of the tree.

Standing in silence...Crying,
I see them from my window pane.

Noticing me...Spying,

They caught their breath,
And in a minute, Flee...
A long time ago 
There was a blue fish,
  
Who yearned to slip 
Into the big blue sea, 
Where nobody will 
Bother him. 

But instead, he spent all of 
His time swimming in circles
In his fishbowl.  

Until one day, 
He stumbled and fell. 
Causing him a severe 
Back problem.  

His physician recommended 
Him, 
To get a job as an acrobat 
In a circus, 
But there, 
They only had work 
For clowns.  

Since he already had 
Experience 
Being the laughingstock 
of his hometown when 
He was young, 
He gladly took 
The job.  

But to tell the truth, 
People hated him. 
And everybody threw 
Tomatoes every day 
at him during 
show-time, 
Making him feel
very sad.  

There was no other remedy, 
But to endure the situation 
With courage,  

So he opened his umbrella 
and rode his monocycle 
on a tightrope for years 
until he began to gain 
The respect of the people.  

He worked in the circus 
Until his retirement day,  

By then, he had become 
A famous Goldfish.  

But with nothing at the end,  
Had no choice 
but to 
Spent the last days of 
His life, 
Among some wooden horses, 
In a nursing home.
The shadow’s tight passage and the narrow door
is the entry to a vast ocean of unprecedented uncertainty,
where there’s no up, no down, no here, no there,
no good, no bad
only a boundless expanse.

At the bottom of the well,
You will find the pearl that fell
from the king’s crown.
But the well is guarded
by a red dragon.
to claim the pearl,
You must slay the dragon.

To drink from the healing, potent dark waters of the well,
You must descend into the depths,
where silence sings,
And time unravels,
And the self is undone.

That, my friend,
It is the first test of courage,
If you must transcend
weakness and helplessness.

And to swim with a silver fish,
The saviour,
The bringer of healing.
The soul of the golden jester flies,
suspended in the air of a treacherous wind
that ambushes overjoyed (like a garrulous phantom in disguise)
and across fertile pastures, bathed by silver dew,
Forged once again in the heart of our most profound and intimate remembrances,
by the ancestral blacksmith of early mornings,
Who has passed by.

As the sun rises slowly,
weighing heavily like a red-hot anvil
subtly halted at the entrails of an ancient volcano
that boils with shimmering golden melting lava
flowing powerfully throughout labyrinthine internal streams,
where the sound of a harsh hammer
blows over pastel color, dream-like thoughts,
making a lavish but secret, muffled sound
while plotting the promises
that will shape our existence as the diurnal hours elapse.

And in the end,
vanishing in a blurring dusk
that, on this occasion, had chosen to dress capriciously
In an opulent satin night gown full of brilliant yellow stars
(like the ones worn by mortals at the inescapable fall
into the precipice located right below and amongst the end of times)
within fragmented swift intervals
of crimson, purple, and violet tides,
shadowing our already short-sighted and tired eyes,
to give way towards a blackout nightfall by surprise.

However,
we have mercifully seen it
repeatedly,
So many times.
Darkness Growing in Twilight's Desolation
An Ebony presence crossing the foggy mist
His wings unfurled will bring damnation
onto Someone I love and used to miss.

A distant dream, like a cry from the dark
The raven's shadow, an obscure forebode,
I heard from afar a dying Dog's bark,
(A minute ago, the reaper spoke.)

While a white rabbit hurries back to its hole
near the bell tower of the barren lands,
where Diamonds are extracted from the blackest coal
And miners with silver pots dig with their own hands.

I see no reflection in the golden mirror,
which makes me think that the raven is getting nearer.
In loving memory of my paternal grandfather, Miguel Cano O. Who passed away in 1982.
Fading echos, can't hear them in the distance;
(A suffocation, an asphyxia, over my inner self)
While rotten feelings demolish my existence,
Dusty and old books are lying on the shelf.  

A mortal wound had pierced my hungry stomach,
and my spinal column was split right down the middle.
though ***** dreams were swinging in the hammock;
(A loud and lacerating noise kept bursting from a fiddle)

Three Pebbles are sinking to the bottom of a vast pond
despite vanishing sounds, illusory mirages, and black mirrors.
While secrecy reflects on an old, perfidious, and deaf super vagabond,
the shouting encouragements come from faithful fans and cheerers.
  ​
After Listening to a solemn and tacit, heartbreaking silence,
The deafening waves of laughter were thrown upon
...copious, outrageous, and senseless acts of violence.

— The End —