Lousy Paint Job

With the length of your silence
I painted my entire rooms
As I finished the last corners
My laugher had broken in two

Now I hear them talking
Voices profaning the walls
Name-spelling furtive shadows
Silence-pitched coming across

Time is space walking
A moment rolling the tide
Torn between voices and silence
My handkerchief is this pride.

AP-15/10/07
"A Season for Short Poetry"

Two Days After Reading Your Letter

Since I've read that you want to talk with me
I can't hide my response to your words
Suspecting they can be unreal
I'm surprised with the effects they cause

I knew you were near for quite sometime
When winds changed from quiet to wild
Turning pressure into a lasting blow
As if saying now it's all fine

Like water going with the flow
Knocking at my door wanting to come
One moment the gesture is made
One moment the gesture is undone

The absence becoming pain
Still I don't want to go on
If I had, it wouldn't be me
But a stranger to whom you wrote

some day.

AP-14/10/07
"A Season for Short Poetry"

One Last Detail

powerful note
raising above
all existing things
f e e l i n g s

you din't expect
such versatile allied


s t i g m a
from my past


f e a r
kept me slave


f e a r
keeps me alive
keeps me at large


f e a r
makes me survive


unscathed
unwavering

AP-11/10/07
"A Season for Short Poetry"

Us Over My Table

I have lost us
if I had us ever
getting
the same amount
of joy and pain
over my table
life
bread and butter
a slice
eaten
the clever way
letting us go
now
forever

AP-18/09/07
"A Season for Short Poetry"

Two Steps Away From My Last Words to You

I've been fighting
To replace your name
With all the strength
Of an unhappy tenant

After reading for too long
The greyish romance title
Twisted mind meets
Distant shores girl
Logic option had to be
The harrowing reality
Which by the way
Doesn't include replay

To tell the necessary truth
There you can be still
You have lost long ago
Don't admire ergo don't feel

I invented you were the sun
Burned, now I can't see or want
I just juggle with words
Shadows and some old ghosts

I don't offer comfort
I claim author rights
Over unspoken feelings
A happier role in a comedy

I can ask why I cry
That answer is only mine
My tear, my truth, my word
Notes, stories to be told

I sit and wonder how
Things change around here
Would you sleep better if I tell
I have a step in your backyard?
I won't move a finger still
I know that some day
I'll see that you are not right
That you are not even my type

In your chameleonic conscience
You think you know a bit of me
You should doubt of my surrender
Isn't the writer a great pretender?

Today you are a centre stage actor
Ironically unaware of the last line
Timing: one sits, one waits
A third steps into the light.

AP 26/09/07
"Poems From a Not So Bored Passionate Mind"