Brother

It wasn’t that long ago, I come to your place
Of the past, my memories try to espy your gaze
We fitted together, our parents of mad siblings
Feel that bliss of novelty, they’ll see through our
Made-up ending: we’re the final dinner, Brother
The sun’s fixed hidden behind your fading face

I walk in your rooms, I lay on your bed, unarmed
Just wanting to see if it will hurt, a half-moon
Lurking from your eyes, in that look on a picture
Somewhere for all, I want that warmth for myself
I need the version behind the veneer of ecstasy
A bogus gentleman, certainly not one of a kind

I was alone all along, I must have been lonely
When you were so cut-out, so gone, a ghost
This is the best thing about someone who dies
My blood thrives in the mornings of your rebirth
The nights, I’m too old to remember the lack of
A dream, just a dream, and I ache to wake up

Poem 23

War is an agreement
He quits understanding
She makes waves collide
Once again with the city
Umbrellas- used as torches
Canals- mirror war’s fears
Typewriters- writing ciphers
Covering walls and the ground
As the city archs flash wry smiles
Eyeing this lover, on his way to kill
Every promise, muttered
Over her olive skin

Hell melts in her bosom
There’s the red light
They both evanesce into
Life, which they cursed… Thrice

Create a free website or blog at WordPress.com.

Up ↑