Categories
Destacado Poetry

Poems I

 

DyingAnimals

Dying Animals

A blood bath
A hotel room
An exotic food restaurant
Wallpaper with golden flowers
Velvet furniture

Dying animals
Glass eyes
Life was leaving the body
They are shivering
They are still alive inside this bowl
Eat them, she said with a fake smile

I thought about death
Bleeding walls
A sweet memory of you
The bathroom was mint green
A tiny window

Dying animals
How can I get rid of the bodies?
No one must know
That I’m here
Hiding

Glass eyes
The life is leaning
The flesh is glowing
The room is hot
The blood is boiling

Brother, are you there?
1 (one), 2 (two), 3 (three)
Dying animals
I’m dreaming about death
Then
I woke up

___________

Who Are You

Who Are You

A bitter taste
Dry leaves
Crac
You can hear them

Goodbyes
A soothing pain
I’m whispering in your ear
Your voice is so soft

A child cries and a dog barks
I wonder who will suffer the most
The one who shouts it or the one who hides it

This dark presence is sitting at the table
I pour him some tea and he grunts
“Who are you and what do you want from me”, I ask
“Who are you and what do you want from me?“, he repeats

There are strange noises
Spirits that move in the house
They are here, they coexist
Between cloudy halos and dripping paint

I know you are here because when you are the floor creaks, the doors shake and a cold air runs wildly through the garden

Annihilation, he murmurs

Who are you and what do you want from me?

Loneliness,
echoes,
Loneliness
Walking on dry leaves

___________

A Nightmare

A nightmare

It was a dream
The distant sky
We kissed
Someone was lurking outside the window

Who’s there? I asked
The red-haired man
Chocolate chip cookies
And an empty bed

The water was muddy
Who wants me dead?
The woman on the shore
whispered a little song

It was about her lover
A little haunted boy
A spectrum with empty eyes
The heart is eager, she said
Lonely like a wolf
scared like a sheep
sad, wounded

A drowned scream coming from within
you will never know love
my feet are bleeding
I do not know where I am

There are cages
full of nightmares
the sand is sticky
the animals are blind

Sometimes I think about you
Haunted boy with empty eyes

By Cherry Adam

Moody experimentalist.
Hypersensitive & Noir moments
Freelance Journalist