tanka
my body encircled by hundreds of cliffs no other visitor than a drifting cloud
Posts
just published by Chen-ou Liu editor of theneverendingstory
Butterfly Dream: First Cicada Haiku by Sergio A. Ortiz English Original first cicada of the season inside your ripped jeans Sergio A. Ortiz Chinese Translation (Traditional) 本季的第一隻蟬在你的撕開牛仔褲裡面 Chinese Translation (Simplified) 本季的第一只蝉在你的撕开牛仔裤里面
cinders tanka
cinders live in the fields of dead corn abandoned by the hum of life ravens gather on a wire
time is infectious tanka
time is infectious everybody's growing old I'm going crazy somebody find me someone to love
that healing that I want tanka
you've got that healing that I want I dream about a burning house the two of us up in smoke
hold on to me tanka
hold on to me don't let me go freedom keep me inside the pocket of your ripped jeans
raking leaves in the yard tanka
raking leaves in the yard I remember that photo of us at the beach my needs are different now
For my aunt Nelly Rivera Soba
I looked up to you the music still ringing in my head another chapter of my life at a close
this is why it must end somonka
this is why it must end I am not used to following you around bending like a lily to the breath of the wind, the ruins of my sorrow adrift we don't believe in their own life anymore thats why we are exiled unable to find our own nakedness in the land of gold and oil
wrapped in a blanket tanka
I stand by the window wrapped in a blanket watching a funeral in progress, my tongue tastes like people I miss
the long winding road tanka
the long winding road to equality— I have grown old waiting for the light to shine
CARCEL PARA LOS POLITICOS QUE CAUSARON LA CRISIS ECONOMICA DE PUERTO RICO!!!!!~!
A la cárcel deberían ir todos los responsables de la crisis económica en Puerto Rico, políticos y banqueros. CARCEL!!! Analistas políticos de mierda tenemos en este país. Los que llevaron a este país a la bancarrota tienen nombre y apellido y ahora les quieren tirar la toalla.
if I were on the road to nowhere tanka
if I were on the road to nowhere with you as my compass my poem would be the thesaurus of ambiguous sorrows but I am only my footsteps and the best I can do is to lengthen the road with music
1968 tanka
1968 Martin Luther King Jr. assassinated an April, or so, ago… Charleston church shooting