The Souls Collector!! Day 3 napowrimo

~His name was sang to the four winds~

I was so carelessly sitting on my rooftop
seeing all-stars with the green lens

was a noise not a voice
but I was resting there
without hearing it very well
and reluctant to follow it

What is that?

from my special place i saw
some starving apparition
coming out of their stones

not sure…

and i saw even covering my eyes
grey souls coming in my direction

tattered and guided by His desire

~He was there~

covered by night
chewing those five souls

My eyes was a mirror of those pains

i shouted!!! No….

but they only could hear
the sound of the night

and still ~ in a perverse way~

~His name is sung to the four winds~

the collector of souls

The damn silent well!


~When at age of 5 i felt in a well and kept me alive holding the walls of the pit. But the terror of the cold, dark, loneliness is inside me.
Until this morning I did not know it but spurred by a poet and friend to write a poem just all came together in my mind.
My brother saved me! ! ! !

And the damn silent well resides in me again!!!!~





what is more than feel and be afraid
when she lived inside a dark well
full of spirits unknown
what is green? what is light?
living from falling things
in your dark place
sometimes a book others times
sounds of people living their  lives
just through the wind
and lined up tiny coloured flags
she learned what is pray

that sound ~ through the tissue~
sang for her
sweet songs of prayers
so at now she knows what is it
Pain ~learned for herself~
Dark ~ from the well~
Pray~ from the wind~

what she can do with that?

So, she is in your gloomy  place
unknown time

suddenly your blonde and curl hair
grows like the perfumed musk on the wall
and they see her for the first time
the wind was more fresh
the voices had the owner
and hands coming with faces


what she can do with that?

I don’t know


out there

~she sensed~

long  and blonde hairs still grow
on that

damn silent well

Hate Me! Love me!

hate and lovewhen

The  night wake me up cold as ice

stretching its grips over my pillow

rustling ~ pain,  sweetness sounds~

i am so confortable welcome
on my room


there, you Hate me

i melted myself  being  able

in several tiny drawers

to hide , dusty  woman ~ a  outsider ~

dividing me – tearing  me in pieces –

no blood, no sound, discreet

i think i don’t fit in so much darkness

(don’t know if is

the  space or me)

even that way

one sickly ravishment alight on me!

let me enjoy  on it, in  my somber soul
when I passed by you  in white clouds ~ you are ~
when you passed by me just

a stranger with nothing to give

hate me like that! Just a bit!