Sunday, March 24, 2013

Page Break



Call it a page break, where I stand now, 
a place of sheer whiteness and void
the end completed itself moments ago 
and the beginning is just some wishful thinking 
like rains over the feeble body of Atacama.

Here I stand atop emptiness 
where the country of my thoughts is invaded by so many words 
that they cease to make sense any more, 
they are dry, convoluted, frayed and moth eaten 
these words, have no meanings
and between endless cups of black coffee I wish for them to go away 
as my hands write nothing for now

And so I go back to the page break 
where the cohorts of words are 
longing for a pattern, for home with proper alleyways and roofs
to ask them to leave and bolt the doors behind 

But to tell you the truth,
I always wish for them to have a dwelling 
but my innate naivety with words, my illiteracy of self, 
and the thoughtlessness of a page break that there is
handicaps me, now. 

(within this space am alone like a full-stop
like a drop that if spreads would evaporate
like a home of no windows and nothing alive inside)

Let it be known then, 
my beginnings await your fingerprints 
and my words which desire a life
want your form to support themselves
to be written in perfect measures
like sugar to my coffee and some soul to me
while, I stand here at the train station of footnotes

So, for the finality of hope that invites some beginnings 
and my shapeless, orphaned words that crave for you as their life-force 
words that are crying for a home 
I plead to you with a mother's vulnerability
would you happen to me, 
beyond my mediocrity and within my sanity
just like 
poetry

1 comment:

Divenita said...

And so I go back to the page break
where the cohorts of words are
longing for a pattern, for home with proper alleyways and roofs
to ask them to leave and bolt the doors behind


was superb! :)

Keep writing!