"taciturnly" poems
For instance, recall daisies,
or if you have not seen one, so much the better.
Paint me a crass picture and sleep
on the shallow crevasse. Stilt through
the orchard and search there: nothing still.
Even the nothingness is form-fitting, and thus,
your vestigial image of daisies. Mold something
out of the vacuity, and there a retrograde sculpture
will wind back to clay. Cornerstones have your name,
and your name even so, has taciturnly placed stones.
Stones. These tiny bodies that lay, undemanding,
scourged by the rapid passage of a carriage.
I wait there, with them, still thinking of daisies.
I know of a child, cylindrically obtuse, in front of the mirror.
Have you seen yourself in the hazy windows
of the Metro? What do you see? I still see daisies.
Or people with heads of daisies. But remember your
forethought of daisies? They are nothing. I am a beheaded daisy
in the lackadaisical wind of Summer. There is nothing to gain
here but the sadness of cold passing. And the child that I am speaking
of, his name, Magno. Sturdy like the rucksack he’s carrying,
lovelessly trundling altogether with the pipes and the
handrails, almost signaling the alarm without warning.
This uncared-for sultry evening decides to splinter
itself against the masses. Again, the daisies appear to me,
this time, in heady form rogue with peripatetic fragrance.
Magno used to unearth daisies and give them to her
mother when he was stiflingly young – he hustled through
the carefully placed furniture. Whatever happened to him,
I know not. And just like the daisies we have come to know now,
trains that do not belong to anyone, and the daisies too, that go
unheard of and unknown to the behest of the city,
have gone into the subtle beginning of everything
that once started in itself, the form of splendor. Nothing.
Jan 27, 2016
Jan 27, 2016 at 3:27 AM UTC
I am a Brobdingnagian octopus.
Blue is my hue.
Floating taciturnly in the abyss.
Within my tentacles I embrace Volkswagen busses.
Nov 17, 2011
Nov 17, 2011 at 10:20 PM UTC
I wandered through this topaz valley,
Steep walls surrounding me flat and high,
Totally alone as I walked down this alley,
Below these hooded skeletons standing silently by.
Each skeleton stood two hundred yards in the air,
Dark ravens silently flying from their empty eyes,
Gazing too long at them was something I did not dare,
I kept my eyes downtrodden, far from the suffocating amber skies.
Tears filled my eyes as I slowly fell to my knees,
This world of pestilence and shadows filling my mind,
I swiftly shut my moist eyes as my heart began to freeze,
Only to open them in an inhuman location, cold and confined.
I stood atop a stone pillar, thousands of yards above ground,
Hundereds of circular obelisks as far as the eye could see,
I noticed modest fires lit in their centers as I glanced around,
And one in the center of my pillar, left there for me.
Dark souls circled around the sweltering flames,
Hunched over figures, both seen and unseen,
Holding hands so tightly I thought they were chained,
I crept towards them, hoping not to intervene.
They turned to me with peculiar smiles on their faces,
Without a word, they silently began to beguile,
Taciturnly demonstrating the evils of this world,
Until I finally concluded, yes, let me stay by these flames a while.
Nov 17, 2017
Nov 17, 2017 at 9:07 AM UTC
Where to hide? Where to conceal?
I fail to understand this famine.
They have robbed my merry zeal
and now prevails the devil’s time.
Taciturnly they have eloped from my sight,
Bricks of blue is what they have left.
This is the lost treasure that has clanged to life in the night
Yet this parky night has failed to freeze my breath.
I agree to sign the fatal bond with the supreme
And still be sure of my inevitable victory
For I have made sagacious plans in the afternoon green
The rebels will soon begin to continue this story
Feb 1, 2019
Feb 1, 2019 at 1:38 PM UTC
With touches instead of words
Gently clinging to what would be lost
Unbroken gazes and absolute reticence
A softly given painful kiss, no matter the cost
The presence of doubt is inexistent
Turning backs as they exhaled
As the air cradled silence, they both knew
Thus the hearts are no longer ailed
Their proximity widened and widened
Neither looking back nor slowing down
Getting stronger while falling apart
No longer will their weary souls drown
They caught someone else's shooting star
Although previously perfect, they had to learn
It's better to hurt than to keep running with torches
Whose fire have flames that no longer burn
Dec 19, 2016
Dec 19, 2016 at 3:17 AM UTC