The end

Sometimes the sun is red       
    sometimes it is not       
Everything depends on the atmosphere       

I shout in silence to your absence       
You hide behind broken mirrors       

We have a blue environment       
         far   mountains through afternoon glasses       

I face thorny visions when I try to set eyes on you  


               STOP   


Don’t stare at me like that
I’ll cry if you do it

Come with me

There are no golden apples in the horizon
It’s noon at the end of a storm
There is time


       WHO AM I TRYING TO CONVINCE?


Eternity                                                                                                   is gone
always has been

Only reflections with no words are left
flat images with memories of depth and a tacit conversation

We are burying the last sun tonight
No one seems to care
Fifty two moments of passion and no sacrifices for new light




_____Adriana Citlali
XVII-V-MMIV
XXIII-X-MMXIII


 
This is an old poem that I wrote back in 2004.
I reworked it today to participate in the Open Link Night 119 at dVerse.



Butterflies are dreamy flowers

   They fly the skies,
     color the wind
 and follow the stars,
    just like a dream.

  They’d like you to join
 and play with the clouds.
  They’d like you to enjoy
and smile. There’s no doubt!

_____Adriana Citlali
XIX-X-MMXIII


 

Over at dVerse, Victoria encourages us to write poetry for children. My muse today was on a completely different spirit, though, as you can read in “A passing shadow“. So I must confess that writing a poem for children has been a real and fun challenge. I tried my best…

A passing shadow

You live in a lethargic beat   
devoid of feelings   

By command of a depressed mind   
your emotions are suppressed   
      smashed with anger   
masked by silent indifference   

Dinner comes again   
you mutter sparse words
forced monosyllables
No eye contact

She walks on eggshells
     seats next to you

Trying to reach beneath the mask
she sets to  disturb  the silence
     offers a smile

You utter no words

      The  mask  of  depression
grows like a shadow in a long winter
      darkness touches her too
      drains her spirit
      makes her sad
      sometimes angry

She leaves the kitchen

You stay

_____Adriana Citlali
XIX-X-MMXIII