The Grass is Black/The Air is Pink


feel me/read me/follow me



The day that I’d
like to die; the
first day of the week
where I rest my
eyes on my sadness
and they fall hard
into an abyss…
leaving me blind.


Not a real day. Or maybe,
it’s the jour rose; there
is a place where people
fall in love only on
Mondays. Don’t ask me
which bus to take,
because there, I’ve never


I see you, Angelou.
Older now, I understand
you. Giovanni, you’re like
a whip in your poetry.
Brooks, may your soul rest
in peace, and I’ll fall for
your contemplation and
wit. Je pense, donc je suis

Monday. Tuesday. Wednesday. Thursday.

And then?

(written: November 14, 2010)


Filed under: la vie poesie, life, regarding myself, Uncategorized, , , , , , ,

One Response

  1. craigjem says:

    Thanks for the follow. I like your Saturday questions… Life is full of wonders.

Leave a Reply

Fill in your details below or click an icon to log in: Logo

You are commenting using your account. Log Out / Change )

Twitter picture

You are commenting using your Twitter account. Log Out / Change )

Facebook photo

You are commenting using your Facebook account. Log Out / Change )

Google+ photo

You are commenting using your Google+ account. Log Out / Change )

Connecting to %s

%d bloggers like this: