Si el agua es para hidratarse
¿Por qué tus labios no pueden salvarme?
En su roce encuentro el eco,
de un deseo que no cesa de buscarme.
Tu mirada es un océano profundo,
donde navego sin rumbo definido,
esperando encontrar en sus corrientes,
el aliento que avive mi latido.
Las noches son largas sin tu aliento,
y el día se disuelve en añoranza,
porque en cada gota de este tormento,
hay un sorbo de tu presencia ausente.
Si el agua es para dar vida,
tus besos deberían revivirme,
pero solo me ahogo en este anhelo,
esperando que vuelvas a sentirme.
Así, mi sed es eterna,
en un desierto de esperanza y desvelo,
donde cada pensamiento tuyo,
es un oasis que nunca puedo tocar.
(But Love Never Forgotten)
In twilight's cloak, I sit and ponder,
As raindrops fall, the world grows fonder.
Thoughts of thee, the city divine,
Thy cheeks adorned, where smiles align.
Half-thrush, half-angel, thine eyes do gleam,
With drowsy lips, where kiss-flowers dream.
Oh, how thine hair pirouettes so shy,
A dance, a song, my soul's sweet lullaby.
Rarely beloved, like a lone star's light,
In darkest hour, thou guide my sight.
In whispered breaths, I conjure thy grace,
For thee, dear one, my heart finds its place.
Oh, dead lover, with words profound,
Thou'd understand the love I have found,
In nature's realm and depths of the mind,
Where longing whispers, and solace we find.
[PERSEVERO]
Rarely beloved, like a lone star's light,
In the darkest hour, you're my guiding sight.
In whispered breaths, I conjure your grace,
For you, dear one, my heart finds its place.
Oh, Emily Dickinson, with words profound,
You'd understand the love I have found,
In nature's realm and depths of the mind,
Where longing's whispered, and solace we find.
:: 05.23.2023 ::
I'm at an expo
an expo for foreign countries' universities
they're advertising themselves to us
the people with little
the little people
I am seated
At a chair so comfy
Yet my heart so weary
That I'm wasting my time
That they're here mostly for themselves
I'd like to think otherwise
But for now that is the reality
That I Have consciously chosen
And there's no convincing me the other way
But do I really need them?
Looking at Kenyan Statistics
Looks like I do
If Binyanvanga Wainana wouldn't have made it outside Kenya
If Lisa Odour wouldn't have began her career at Berkeley
If Chimamanda wouldn't have gone to U.S....
The story is different
The plot is the same
Like a sickening soap opera
That everyone is watching
And so you're inclined to do the same
I'm worried
That if I don't get something to do
I will have wasted my day
That if I don't talk to the familiar faces
I won't be able to talk to the strange ones
This was such a perfect day
Until I got here.
I'm leaving now
..continues to sit.
Poor accused there is always parallax
he's always guilty no other syntax
for rich the law is mollis
rich are always flawless
for the poor dura lex sed lex
It’s Dead! Buried! Murdered! By
Societal Evolution. Technology has
Guillotined it, chopped to,
Shards of quick transference.
Paperless, Ephemeral, Unbounded By
Chemical mixtures, giving whole
Recognition, permanence. Now
It is whisked away, as Dandelion fluff
In the wind of electrons.
Meaning given by consent of,
Ignorant users, only capable of,
Mangling, what they could not
comprehend in full form.
Butchers trying to extract more
Time for Air Head endeavors of
Tactile and Visual and Auditory,
Sensations of Erotic Exercises,
That soon callous the senses.
Long silences between words
And the words are murmured half thoughts
Sentences you or I finish in our heads
Following chains and trains of thought
In comfortable silences together
Changing subject on a whim
Then realizing you’re still there
Embellishing and polishing details
As we sit and sip the sunset down
Enjoying each others thoughts
In southern comfort
Staring west
I don't call her my other half for no reason
Sometimes it's vu deja eternal