if you wake up with a stick in your bed you have a dog
if the stick is chewed into eighteen pieces you have a puppy
if there is no stick you either do not have a dog
or your husband has pica
Categories:
pica, dog,
Form: Free verse
Guarde
Guarde na memória:
quando uma
abelha pica, ela morre,
ela não pode
picar e viver.
Quando uma pessoa
“pica outra”,
seus melhores
eus morrem.
O melhor remédio
para você
nunca picar alguém,
é fazer sempre
mais e mais.
Categories:
pica, business,
Form: Free verse
I am walking in silence,
listen to water and wind,
notice
the frost on the leaves in the shade,
the fivefold symmetry of the columbines,
the pica scurrying across the scree.
My feet follow
the rhythm of my breath
which, in turn, is molded
on the contour of the mountain.
My thoughts are
of breathing and walking,
breathing and walking
until I reach the summit
and realize
I spent the morning
in meditation,
every step
a prayer.
July 2, 2018
Categories:
pica, mountains, nature, spiritual,
Form: Free verse
Limerick : Once slick Senorita from Sevilla – 6
Once slick Senorita from Sevilla
Watched proud Toro shamed by faena*
So she lured Picador
Behind her unlocked door
And gored him till he split on his Pica.
• faena : the manœuvres with the cape
the toro is subjected to by the matador
after the maiming of the magnificent beast
by the picador
© T. Wignesan – Paris, 2013
Categories:
pica, character,
Form: Limerick
Gabriel A. Levicky
A DEAD TYPEWRITER
OR
1000 + 1 JUDEN VERLASSEN*
Here I go again!
The not-so blind date
With history
Narrowed my and-I-thought-they-have-seen-everything eyes.
All I can touch
Is
A paper, a report
Blown in from the past.
Everything else becomes a crippling echo.
Paris 9.4.1942
To
Berlin.
Attention: Eichmann.
Time: 8:55 am, transport # D901/23
From Le Bourget-Drancy to Auschwitz
With 1000 Jews
Has been just dispatched.*
Each Jew received 2-week provisions.
Please confirm.
Neatly typed Pica letters report.
On a polished typewriter,
A victim of war,
Now long dead.
The earth is not round yet
And
It is not turning.
Only the past is rotating, whirling
In the autumn park carousel.
Now you feel it.
Now you don’t.
NYC, October’ 01
*Based on the found written report dated 9/4/1942, sent at 10:30 AM by an anonymous Nazi officer stationed in Paris
to Eichmann
in Berlin
Categories:
pica, political, autumn,
Form: Free verse