Summersong

Looking outside the window
A still quiet afternoon sky
Tufts of bohemian clouds
And the copper April sun…

It’s too hot to dream
But like the ceaseless
woodpecker, I can’t
afford to become too busy
expecting the rain

Dancing with rhythmic reveries,
The world needs water to survive.
Veins – throbbing and feverish,
Phlegm and melancholia, like
incestuous brother and sister --
Sensual, like summer vacations

Thinking of all oddities and ennui
It comes, like an inconsistent gust
of wind…
The realization that I’ve never been
untrue to my own flesh and blood…

April, afternoon
The sun keeps on blazing through the rooftops
Dreams take the shape of inspirations
Inspirations hide behind the façade of poetry
And like chaotic possibilities,
fever creeps up…