While everyone is sleeping, I lay awake
wondering what is holier than listening
for when finding the hum of your breathing
nothing else exist but this joyous jubilee
suddenly, the inanimate becomes alive
imagining golden horizons staring back at me.
Like a stray dog, I point my nose to the eclipsed
moon, begging for your scent, your sun, I wander
in circles, shivering on the last spot you stood saying
goodbye, I howl my loneliness for everyone to witness.
Not nobody hears you sing a song so holy
disturbing my rest, with a new question mark
with a new need, that couldn’t be taken aback…
Not nobody can give you a proof of love as holy?
Not nobody can come up with a proof that love exist?
With it’s meant to be absolute? With it matrices
struggling to breathe as conditional decides
for us when we do unfold, gathering care for you
revealing silent songs of secret desires, desire
that rest with our bones, a ghost, we build
but never forget the wasted never leave mes.
Not nobody, I hear your song stories
please play your impressions again
as I keep hearing you dear, keeping you dear to me…
I hear the sweetness of desire in the timber of your sunset
and I want to cage it’s sound for when I feel washed of my love,
when I’m washed cleaned, that slow of my desires…
Now that I’ve found you dear
I don’t know what rest means
as longing has grip my moments
with short curls, and tender kisses
like a thief, stealing my soul away
I want to show you where my many colors begin
when each space has a ripple as riotous as a tending moment
leviatating slowly in the contours of your ebbing embrace
an effusion where I beg for your name.
Beating it’s unfathomable rhythm
breathing its ether time signatures
when to come in, when to rest
when to burst into a horizon
I found you and your lips…
I wanted to wait until we were old enough
when feelings are not like the fever of a child
now learning how to walk, embarking upon new terrain
it happened today, regardless, I felt the heat stinging my skin
with anticipation, I let go, and didn’t care if I fell on my face
an aderaline hot as day, summertime when it’s still winter
I imagined chimes of an ice-cream truck signaling change.
I wanted to resemble cool for you, I wanted to give you the superfacial
when there’s nothing cool about the unknown, I can’t pretend…
I don’t want flowers right now
they will begin a new displacement
with their crushed petals, bringing anew
as the creases of a page, that you just
bought from the corner store, trying to
make-up with things that doff…
2 understand
2 love
2 accept
2 appreciate
2 bring too you
2 etc + infinity
really this equals more than 2…
I remember that night in Union Square,
I was telling you some ridiculous tale
of my boyish adventures. I remember
the moment, my hands freezing for your hold.
Everything you said to me resonated
in a way a tropical island warms you
somewhere far from the cold
more romantic than anything in English.
In that moment, I felt fluent in a syntax my tongue
was incapable of pronouncing as a teen
still yet to learn how to do proficiently.
While I was contemplating the correct
conjugative verb, the correct timing
to accent my impulses, you fell close
to me and our lips locked on these streets
where everything is dirty, and crude.
When I’ve been born to be alone
I came into this world with my mother
She’s dead now, she left this place
with strangers, who may have cared
about her survival, and what it would
mean, for a a young survivor, but I’m…
Through the thickness of static
I feel a joyousness playing turns
on a turntable, a moment like this
where nothing exist but you close to me
on the pavement of Union and Get Ready
I drift sideways, and you have to direct me
to my train, because my mind forgot how to walk
infatuated with a high that is your kiss, I’ve discovered
a canoodle dialect, a prerequiste for breathing.
cadger has invaded my dwelling with sleepless nights
wondering if my trails will make a full bed, follows me where
I sleep, and my neglect of the most functional of everyday
will give birth to offsprings, multiplying,
waiting in the wind for their time to discover
a skin populated with same colored fur as their hide
In depths of dreams, we danced
and you asked me why am I here
where envy is capricious in every
eaten word, when I am a creature
of the night, an animal trapped in
the solar plexus of another’s imagination
my lungs have suffered my loneliness
now, they have fluids floating in them
a cough isn’t sufficient anymore, I am
sick with my own disease, you can’t
recognize on the surface, but if my
insides can talk with such vehement
it would tell you how much you meant to me.
I think about where will I would go
it would be anywhere but here
where I lie naked on a dance floor
because I want the comfort of the trees
singing a breeze, dangerous at times
but I know what branch to slumber on
as I reach like the mountains’ peaks…
Where, the best foods are to be discovered
Because we can’t afford your shantytown paradise
where, you pay more money than a Baltimore family
where a school teacher could buy two houses on our poverty-line
Oh did you forget, just because we walk through Williamsburg
with our new kicks, fresh press skirts, we think we own something.
Then, don’t come to our parts of God’s back, don’t even say Jesus sent you
because both God and Jesus will relocate once your ass discover that corner.
You never wanted to be that close to Culture! you just wanted the food, and to be
to be a spectator of a spectacle, like a museum artifact, you can afford to walk into and claim
as your own, and talk about such and such from a distance, from a distance I watch you fall
from your own peneplain… Walking away, I’ll remember this moment and always wear a hemlet.
Yeah, make my own sonnet tonight
Yeah, make my own history tonight
make my own dance tonight, make
make, make, make, make my bake
flour and water, I wrap my dough
Yeah, make you jump in the holy ghost
feelin it eh, feelin it eh in dis power
you clap, and sing til the morning
Yeah, make you catch de devil
ha, ha, make you lose yourself
in your own laughter
mek you tink in different verses.
In the eve of today that is your evening eyes
I turn my curtains away, tomorrow, just so
I can see them change color, as I sit still.
My eyes are bigger than the sunset now
incapable of feeling the delicate window
Dreaming, inside my romanticized state
organized neatly, compartmentalized ellipsis
I will not pretend to be a writer now, with arms fold
brooding over a wilted ole maypole
with intent want, I won’t watch myself depreciate
in a rhyme that doesn’t fit.
Will lead a way, through these buried lives in me
the seeds will come alive again with your dirty earth
my avoidance only shapes your loitering, waiting there
in the shadows of enlightenment, a secret world of flowers
a rest, a lost so I can remember the corners of discovery.
There’s a junction I don’t want to re-visit
It’s a junction that lights all that’s missing
But I think about the gospel, I think about the blues
you brought to me and I stop and rock from side to side
stomp my feet, and praise my last taste of cheap wine.
COCOYEA 
You must be logged in to post a comment.