Poetry

Jester Pedro i could have told you that slip, was showing and a blush, or a slip of

Lucy betrayal, that is the knife digging into me you see not when hope is a mirage and gold is real.

Lilith gold glitters, buys the shoes that do not get lost. midnight never comes when the pennies mount, become stars of hope,

Val a song, a note, a beat it has the rhythm of my heart i am alive. a rule, a concoction, a have to having the vibe of colors dull

Sharon: Mindless tasks, mindless day sweep by and I am running for the goal, wrapped in red, tied with golden threads, and I am finding the knots hard to break as each twist cuts into skin, more red spills on the red, and I find myself

Delirious, poisonous fumes they call this fog, mist that entraps me and yet traps of this kind I call it enticement, a lure, though my befuddled mind tries to make sense of where I am going, my body is made up of many parts and I am keenly aware of how my heart seeks one thing, my stomach another,

There is a vibrant echo resonate from within, I cannot tell you about it, for it is not seen nor heard, and yet it is acute, the music so painfully sweet, so very lovely

A writ, a play of words, and that I must obey but what must I obey? For already I sense myself in shifty planes, words slides past each other and the lines in between of empty spaces are filled with an echo, of what is implied the shadows are thickening and I grasp at the

I jest, I laugh, I smile a lot because jesting, laughter and smiles smooth the waves, make things easier for the knots are tights, the paths and minds keenly felt, quite solid and I cannot move the stars

2 cent's is all I am ever worth, from the rich who throw in a penny, the intelligent they whisper and mutter about something I am not able to fathom