Red Light

Bad
Bad

They have no idea
how bad it gets
when the office falls
silent
and I’m left to gaze ahead

at the beckoning abyss of the wall
dotted with sharp pins.

Bad
Gripping

Your face on my cell phone
eternally smiles, and I remember
I was there in that same room
on that same night,
as bald stray cats prowled the grounds,
and I
was seeing more — far more,
an entire more universe
sparkling with undiscovered stars —
than this

greasy

gadget

in my hand.

Mad
Seeping

It’s like a naive cancer or an earthquake,
or a tragic film no pleasant soul
would wanna see on a summer day
of flowers
and lovers
trailed by petals
and a hundred

bowed heads.

Bad
Bad

They have no idea.
Push me with a finger
and I’ll collapse on the bed.
I’ll stare and I’ll glare

at the abyss of the ceiling
where lizards hunt roaches
patiently.

No one has an idea;
not even you since you can’t pick my head.
Oh, darling,

you don’t wanna
pick this head.

It’s so bad that
one day, while crossing the street
among the usual crowd
between the typical jeeps,
inhaling that exact, same soot,

I think I might

stop
in my tracks

and refuse,
just shake my head violently
and refuse,

to cross
to the other side

so I can stay there forever.

2 Comments

Filed under Love, Poems

2 responses to “Red Light

  1. I’m lovin’ your post Mr. Moonwalkerwiz. If you were a writer, I’d totally read one of your books…^_^. You’re so creative.

  2. moonwalkerwiz

    Hi, Ms. Flowright. Funny thing is, I do consider myself a writer — the cheap kind. You know, the one who’s not good enough and not rich enough to publish in softbound or hardbound. Well, at least some people still appreciate the things I write, like you. So thanks! I also checked your blog. It’s cool. Keep on writing even though we may be stuck as cheap writers forever. At least we have our own little corners to cry our hearts out and act like crazies. 😀

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