Rage against the Night

Hello my friend
The title of this Poem  would be solely  Rage….

Thinking in Dylan Thomas…. Rage, Rage against the dying of the light

In my case…. against the night

People that are the night itself , that have no sun but darkness inside
dressing up themselves as the sweet dew at morning,,,,
For their entire life

That is primitive … always inside and never evolved…

Primitive to hurt, to discriminate, to shout out, to put their hands around the neck and finally kill someone…

or kill totally within….
To fright … Has something more painful than fright?

Do you know how is it?

An autumn leaf at your last days but raging against the fall…..
stirring up , arousing the courage to fall down

For  be kind or gentle has a massive price
Better kill, easy to kill
thinking that you are the truly tree and never the leaf….

But i am the rage itself
I am my words … that is mine and my only….

No one could claim for yourself what i originally write

or  what  derives from  my grief
Rage on hands and on fingers….
To cast out, to put a spell …  to revenge….
That is your Poetess …

being barbarian but in words and assuming
So bringing Dylan again….

Rage, Rage against the Night!!!!

For all my life…British_Night_Sky

Dirty window

The tower

just one hight open window

broken and soiled by my breath

waiting for an apparition
invited by a ghost to sit down
~so i sit, and i listen~

no one words is spelled
by my mouth, trembling
~in  fear~

what do you want to say?
and the Ghost speak
~your heart so worn~ dusty by the time~
as if it was a thing, not a living beat

~your eyes in this place~ so dirty~
as if it was shattered window, not a living eyes

you must to pay…
Oh! you have  to pay…

~wrapped in silence , your soul~
dressing in rags , your body

~by  embrace the lie~

you must to pay…
Oh! you have  to pay…

~i come for you
because you are dead anyway

~my disdain is now~ complete~

i ran through the window
trying to break out the spell,
i drew quickly  hearts~ damp ~by my breath

i know, i know
a mere breath not a mere love

i know have no purpose
but still i do
a heart in a shattering glass

and….

jump…..

Three Floors

casa infancia1 Three Floors

M Morgan ~

They lived on the third floor
They slept on the second floor
in the first floor waiting

where they lived attacked
where they slept sang bad lullaby
where they waiting they could do nothing

through the first door
climb the stairs
she was captured!

at day they hid out
at night tormented
she ran at dawn

They were real
disembodied but with voices
lifeless but energy

black and gray
terrified girl
swallowed his body

Girl falls, bleeding
not walk
not eating

girl did not grow
until one day
girl fled

Where’s Girl?
Girl missing?
OH! The four windows of the third floor!!

Secret Lullaby – day 22

painting-a-day-monet-garden-085-2

Balu Balu, Lilith-by
come and take my soul
if i not dream tonight
you can do anything  at all

My cradle is shelter of your hands
Balu Balu, Lilith-by
leave this soul alone
forget your infant body

I still pray my religious songs
Balu Balu, Lilith-by
choral of hands singing I mourn
Secrets in  Lullaby, stay away your breath of me

A place to hide myself! day 16

i need a good place
could be anywhere
to hide myself

i dont know from who
but i have to run

something ugly, formless
i think can be the Boogeyman
return from my nights
wielding his sword !

Oh! Trying to keep me blind

He flies by air and use
fingers and claws

and before
He taste my blood
says:Image Hello, dud!~
suspiciously i answer to him
under his breath
Hello buddy!

But ( Shhhhhhhhh)

I need a good place
could be anywhere
to hide myself