Radical discourse of knots doing desperate living
Tales foreshadowing flaming moths to our loving ropes
Slowly warping the warm plates of this dé-sa-yu-no
Threatening to blow each sprinkle off our buttered toasts*
And if they do
Then I can guarantee
That on lonches twice
every other week
Will be
Tres Gul-pes Jévy (Heavy)
w. pickled onions on every plate
not only will they hit the spot
but give us the strength we need
As now I am in-transit
Indebted
without enough to properly veil those lovely bones
but just enough for that which matters
In the now
whether roof, food or phone
To which your response would be justified
Should you lose your patient form
and skip the queue
golden pheasant
Cleverly zipping a line
from the edge of our present scene
to the end of a Styrofoam cup
hoping that in 5 years forward
you con las canas (Ka-nas)
will pick up
And in the foreground hopefully
Me with the laughter
If not
Then making sounds in the background
In the voicemail recordings
of our shared lives
 
Nothing wrong to want to know if we can valse
even when we Kizomba, or Zouk
To pivot on the ball of your foot
instead of your toes
To seek a secure tile on an uneven floor
A step in a sequence of clandestine breathes
before the bigger essay is voiced
To start over or refresh
A lucid decision to forgo a vivid dream
or double down on a mutual belief, a shared hope

Notes:
*Referring to Hagelslag (NL), the Dutch breakfast treat
Desayuno (Esp):  Breakfast
Lonches (loan-chez) (Esp.): Lunches
Tres Gulpes (Goal-pes) (Esp.) = (literally) 3 hits: Here referring to the Dominican Dish
Jévy (Do.): Substantive, cool
Canas (Esp) = white/grey/silver hair
Valse (Fr): Waltz

De Largo Haleine-The Isle of Heart Content 1

They say if you peruse the page
You begin to read between the lines
But what to do when a magestic
sun-kissed landscape
is presented?
What else is there But
take in her canvas’ gilded edges,
To pedal and drift way below beneath
where the traveled easel and floor meet
To the upper middle segment
staring, where vivid pools of two glaciers peak
Then further Up to the top
Where the gold is locked
in the very real and abstract
Where the route through the aisles of friendship lack
clear single &/ or guide,
But that which you positioned
to be the correct way

To the Isle of your heart’s content

What to do when in route
your rapping and banters fasten to
Eager sails of mutual rhythms vessel beaten by
heavy rain and wind howling? You
hastily yet calmly anchor on
the nearest shores’ inviting reefs
Where nested in grains of interests
Bottled up letters, Lying in wait
truthfully erupt in timeless silver
expressive words
Carefully crocheted
The most delicate sentence slivers
that easily evaporate between you
Vape them to determine their weight
inhale deeply to grasp their meaning
though
they are pale mists
to the eccentric language of our somas
generously playing synchronized notes
on the synaptic keys of our adjacent eyelines
Lines that have carefully outlined
Between us
a slender figure
co-designed in our reveling
Through the storm’s eye
from pumice and fresh embers
This gradient blue mirage
Keeps us warm and patient
Precautious but exploring
On the isle of our heart’s content

 

There’s something about this moment,

Giving off a nostalgic impression

Those 5 guys were rightly on to something**

When they sang endlessly over the PA system

Flagrantly harmonizing on about how much

went into making me who I am today,

I believe you felt it too that time ago,

I caught it in your eyes on that 1st satisfying click

The feeling reverberating through most solid vibe and sole

on laminated floor we took that first spin

But even then, you hesitated,

You only wanted to preview what’s in store, before committing

to longer journeys to and froe

To sharing the many 10,000s of highs

and to lows so staggering

they left us below sea level

And with this, despite me having a twin

you still choose me that day^

 

Before us, you would struggle to get a grip

With me, you easily navigated with one hand

Going only where your heart and pockets would lead you,

And there at every turn. I would be close by

taking up things even when my odd compartmentalization

Made it seem like I couldn’t take the contents of your baggage anymore

And to your surprise, I remained unrelentingly level through the duress

The oppression of projected earth, sleet and snow

The gusting of foul airs trying to knock me down

I hid into myself, only to rise stronger like a stone

Some would critique me for being inflexible despite the abuse

But I knew what it meant to be guaranteed for a lifetime

 

But a lifetime for you meant 10 years at most,

The suspense of the next best thing was too much

for you to hold out hope for evidently,

You so firmly fixated to the superficial things you knew

loosely tossed in with circumstances exacerbated

Those gains in beauty and the small ounces of difference between

Me and that new new I saw on your phone

Enhanced and younger than me

The one you had your eyes and

hands on fake parts recently,

To think many years ago you wondered if I was worth it,

you expected my all, I only expected you to trust in me

The cost was my able body and everything

in my possession you claimed to be yours

 

I supposed parting ways was inevitable though

One of us was bound to give up or break down

Even a solid stone when persistently stressed,

Develops an irreverisble hole over time

Perhaps I wasn’t ready to feel put aside

We had some good times I still recall

the satisfying sounds from when we 1st clicked

Once louder than the cacophonic Fear

Of Missing Out on something new

 

Question to you:

From which perspective do you believe this  story is being told?

Answer in the comment section below:

 

  1. A traveler upset with the fall of his winter coat
  2. A woman somberly reflecting on a prior love
  3. A luggage reminiscing about it’s previous owner
  4. A man who gave it his all and it wasn’t enough
  5. All of the above

 

**Yes, that’s an N’Sync reference & ^Yes, that’s a Drake reference