The Funeral

It happened so fast,
One day you was drinking wine,
The next day you was in the hospital,
And from there straight to the earth,
Your tomb was open, waiting for you.
I saw you there
You was wearing a three piece suit
Your eyes closed
Your soul so far away.
While everyone was crying
I was only thinking about
How I did like to cum inside the ass of your niece
That wasn’t part of my family
But of your woman.
I didn’t really cared if you was alive or death
You died for me when I was 2 years old
A child looking at his father’s back and not understanding
Where is he going, why he will not come back.
You phoned me from time to time
And the days I was lucky you came to visit,
We did go to buy some comics, take a ride in the old and dusty car, and buy some toys.
The days I wasn’t lucky
You simply did not come.
I waited for you and then my mother used to take me to the cinema,
I get accustomed to cry in silence, in dark corners,
And the sadness give way to anger.
Lot of years I spent hating you,
But now, I can somehow understand you.
Oh, dad, you didn’t knew how to be a father,
All that you knew was to be a plumber (and even not a good one …)
A drunk
And to smoke marihuana in your own arcade store with the boys of the neighborhood.
It was all so fast
One day you was winning me at chess
The next day Death had reclaimed your life.

Nothing to hide, some words about my poetry

Yes, I cry !
Yes, I’m a loser with no talent playing the poet and the artsy !
Yes, I will not stop doing that !
(Not stop Writing)
My screams are harsh
So everyone can hear them
I’m not ashamed of my pain
I’ll let you know when I’m suffering,
But when I’m happy
We will go drink together
And burn down the bar.
I have nothing to hide,
I have
Nothing,
So bring me another whiskey
And then, bring me the gun
I will fill it with words
And shot bleeding verses
Straight
To your heart.

Too much words inside my head

Too much words inside my head

Too much words struggling to get out of my head

And me, without too much language

Loss of words

Playing the poet

in a world full of artists

Trying to be a part

of the world of wonders

but how many words are there that can’t be said ?

nor writing ?

nor screaming ?

crying ?

fighting ?

Too much words inside my head

and me without too much language.