Tuesday, May 12, 2009

Written in the womb

He’s sleeping with his toes
Curdled to his chest
Floating like an underwater
Seed at his best
Caressed by her womb
As he grows in that nest
Of the world, what he knows
He’s dreaming of the rest

All that he dreams
With his black little pearls
Are blues and greens
And white sea gulls
Those dreams that have sung
His sweet lullabies
Would turn as a rung
To climb miseries

He’s waiting for the spout
Of his special igloo
To let him go out
And find some clue
On all that I say
To bear his doubts
Of the world, what he knows
He’s steering his sprouts

Wherefrom he is laid
On his bed of rose
Wrapped by her side
And held by her close
There from he has clung
To those endless ropes
On which would be hung
His vacuumed hopes

He would play few years
As she leaves him alone
With a maid and fears
Of her absence at home
Thereon gets his life
Into restless routines
He would run on his wheels
And then get to teens

If he then be a prey
For the Shakespearean race
He would get him a stray
In the love furnace
For the sake of his love
He would act as a slave
With all done above
To be blamed at his grave

He would walk into midst
Of his second thirty
When his dark eye lids
Couldn’t bear reality
All he would see
In this selfish crowd
Will sink probity
For coins been bowed

With few such decades
Gaspingly gone
Drained with the invades
Of struggles bygone
He would turn those pages
Of his great history
And find those cages
Of his locked fantasy

What has he lived
To call it a life
Was it believed
To keep him alive
Has he done justice
To his wills and wants?
Have had practice
To give up for bonds.

He would see this earth
As a mean vulture
Would mourn his birth
And curse nature
Then all he would need
Is to get back into her
With someone to heed
In that little shelter.

So sleep little bird
Dream lots as a smug
You shall not be disturbed
Let peace come and hug
Then your final shroud
Would feel so proud
Of collecting in your hood
Only dreams of the good

1 comment:

Anonymous said...

Its very well written. You deserve to release a book on your poem collections, if not already done work on it pls.