few days ago I received an email from someone asking me maybe some advice, perhaps asking me to listen to written words. To her, these other voices equal psychological abuse suffered in silence I dedicate this poem.
Your tears are shed between boats poppy
seducing your own wounds and between pieces
it dawns
mess of their truce with thyme latches.
These
chained to your feet and ....
your hands while you catch wind
seeds and planting your loneliness
with blooms.
was wrong!
chained your watch but not confidences luggage
soul, even chase butterflies
and ... on the waves to see you poke
horizons without brush.
Untie the ropes that bind you because there
better soldiers than those who do not beat poets
that they have learned to gallop,
because the notation of
voices break the guns off the streets
with orchestras in the gardens ...
because when they fit with sandals
steps of rye,
reasons not die, nor souls
eaten breaks, but the faces
eyes closed, eyes
who can not read to life
Untie the rope fast
stars while relaxing in the mountains and rain showers that do not want
sentences, recite verses
the jailer to let you know that the seed will always
where
day ... where no latches are made
to speak or to poetry
your feet chained to his hands as he grabbed
stones in the mud, planting distances
with ditches and yellow flowers,
chained the longest street, but no confidences
or your soul luggage
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