by Carlos Mijares Poyer
If die day
by night by day
I will not forget you
If day die
the flowers will outlast you
like a lonely river
bay of love in lost equinox
yonder sun and bays in the horizon
If not by day what is the night
Two tin cups of water for those dead, rising
Arid sun, moxie morning
Traversed a shed a light
To the other Kingdom
And disappeared wisdom
Like no other
The other brother
Hand to hand
Dust to dust
Ashes cremated the style of rust
Light by day Light by Night
Life is long lasting STANDING
no petal saw lipstick smeared
upon the sky
no dolphin danced…
and the dark moon periled
like a tear over the roses
Come to my knowledge
weeping cat and chat latino roofs
see night away dance
the iris like a utensil
will color the spectrum
over your heart
and I will say hello
in the unending walk
thru the desert of big data
the steppe of imminent reality
and wonder of daffodils like
eyeing a sinking paper boat
in the puddles of history
your barrio like river
and a dilapidated concrete jungle
of effaced buildings with broken eye windows
and unlocked doors…
the dogs will welcome YOU!
I didn’t say blue cobalt EYES
trekking your spine
humid with dew and love juice
I beckon you
to supersede desire, index finger sang
to promote vision before your “Id”
and to install digital formulas
for your gait at night’s
ball room dance regalia
of an aging ALTER EGO,
you are the chosen princess.
And, because to demean
stick men robotic blurs as profiles
crowding the streets
searching for food, shelter and water
so, I told you to dance and dance
also the title of a story in your head
like a pink orchid mantis
on the edge of the last skyscraper:
your last dying life…
the burning black origami flower
as it falls from your
heart’s window
that black and obscure orgimae petal
suede shades of nocturne
flower-your black eyes
Slideshow of luminescence
the last memory of a people
wetlands… the sky
the oceanic panorama
the gaze galloping onslaught
over the last bear mountain
and you preferred hysteria
the immaculate lustrous emotion of peace
those eyelets, Chinese mysteries
you have forsaken as truths
as your pilgrimage
to your globalized homes of
soiled white portico columns
in humid verandas
the last computer in front of the window
you are no banister of the future
your intervals of sanity
deranged you and you dreamt
your dream of heaven
waiting wired to see an apostle
that looks just like you
and you cry…
Cobalt eyes in the afternoon
wine Spanish leather bags
in the hands of the meek
with red berets drunken
fainted specters in the streets
and the cars sit still,
like a tin memorabilia
of the last millennium that crossed
that crossed before our eyes
Yes, the intimate rosary
dappled over pearl breasts,
the odour of the Iluminatti
in the corners of the forgotten city,
where social minstrels enact
pillage of dreams also forgotten
trying to learn how to remember
(And, so the drum roll…)
Check the box you prefer
you are nothing more than
a fetishist item in boudoir
of oceanic existence:
so the actor gesticulating
and swimming like aquarium figures
fish and fight the bully fight, the good fight
you forgot to lose
OF THE MEEK LIKE PARANOID STAR GAZERS
in the honing spectacle of SOCIAL ME
(And, so the drum roll…)
“Say your prayers young man, it’s bedtime.”
And the torn flag flapped wings upon your face
an intimate applause for the azure horizon
“Beware of subliminal text messages!”, said the little four year old girl
those sms with your name
we are no longer in the year of Cat
we are and will always be and always
have been in the year of the $ sign
traversing art for the sake of art,
social compromise “zoocializt” poetics
and the remnants of Greek rap
Contain, contain entropy
your are no bridled horse
stomping cobblestone streets
the equine ecstasy is for the rich?
You are the devil you, you Tiger
your sins derived by software from an email address
which does not exist
off-line your way is more English
that emotion you sublime
is your latin passion
you only see in the mirror
keep an eye on your life
that thermostat on the fridge door
like a memo hung like pin magnet
reminding you to brush your teeth
and make love
sparked, the frozen gaze
of your ancestors over your biopic
and you mentioned astray as yours
and askance the pink kites in the sky
philosophy as a mentality
and genre beckoning to remembrance
and lost SPACE…
Do not revolt, rebellious are already
your intimate emotions as reason, like many nano-butterflies
and bit-some seahorses in your eyes like diamonds
Of course my dear princess
reconcile awakening
with death
the black hollow eyes
and the inert rock in the river
the firefly shines dim and dims
death is your preface and prologue to enter
light that shines like a ray from your thorn crowned heart
Death by day
death by night
If I tell by day
to die the last
the last breath in the evening.
Carlos Mijares Poyer is a venezuelan-american writer, journalist and marketer. He is published in print in Venezuela extensively with awards in different genre, and also published in English in the Galway Review, Ireland, The Yellow Chair Review, Silver Birch Press, The Piper Magazine, Guilford College and Morphos Digital Mag., Mexico. He studied all of my education in the U.S., an English Major from Guilford College, Greensboro, North Carolina and alumni Pine Crest School, Ft. Lauderdale, Fla. He is a trilingual author in English, Spanish and French.
