Saturday, March 21, 2015

POeTRY day - Black old death

Black old Death
It smells like mold here
My unrestless thin fingers
Carved through my skin
With swiveling eyes in fear.

Perhaps I didn’t care
For the burning body
That alone left its soul
Lied in the misty despair.

It took a long while
Until the black cloak
Covered my sight
As concealing my smile.

Patiently felt my bones to walk
And shacked up the dust
Brought from the deep
Where voices slept scream and talk

Who was that unknown shadow?
The worst seek nightmare?
Or merely a passenger fellow?
That simply stood and stare.

I flew over and around
Felt against my face a breeze
And drops of blood I found
They were thoughts I squeeze
From a cold freezing night
That insisted to come in a dream
At the dawn over the light
As a black mask in Venice stream.

Through such oil dark paint
I let it join and sing for me
For nothing: just sound and faint
As an owl, I waited and intent see.



2 comments:

Max Coutinho said...

Ciao G,

Just came to wish you and yours a Happy Easter :).

God Bless

GALLARDO said...

Hi Max, thx all the best for you too!!