Sunday, September 14, 2014

Simon Anton Diego Baena- 3 Poems

The Night

All the windows are open
In the city of molasses  

Where darkness inhabits 
Every inch of space

Of your dreams
And nightmares

In Burgos street
You may search for fragments

Of your precious memories
Inside the hourglass

There are no blooming flowers 
But only the hypnotic eyes 

Of owls in your room
Staring back at you

As the night blossoms
With poison

Every time you find
Yourself in ashes

In the hole
Of a rusty needle


Space

A dilapidated house
with no portraits nor picture 
frames inundated with cigarettes
and a growing cancer called 
madness


Conjuncture

You never cease to enjoy: watching how those rain drops fall 
from the swaying leaves, listening to the shrieks of crows 
while dreaming of imaginary landscapes where the light never 
wanes, every time the ash colored sky is wracked by lightning 
and glass windows are shattered by the vibration of its screams 
out here in the garden of ruins as your heart writhes in agony.

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