Writer, author, short story writer, poet, youtuber, blogger.
Magic does exist
Magic exists with greater intensity in childhood and also in adolescence. It is when you begin to discover the world and life. And before us innocence prevails, seeing with greater light all the beauty of existence on earth.
The water of the sea encloses everything blue in effulgences of growing joy.
Intense oxygen and exalted brilliance is the sun that dazzles clarity.
The soap bubbles float and reach the king star, which displays a fury of love and breaths of sea and salt.
The sand castles close to the blue life, weave magical tales to the imagination.
From castle to castle, dreams are discovered that, encapsulated in floating bubbles, dance future songs.
We laugh and go out to enter the next castle where there are many suns that also float and project movies from yesterday and today.
Magic dreams of love
Tatters of Dreams
Wood or petrified ice?
The magic carpet sometimes
it travel far, far, far away.
Repetitive experiences follow one another
as in the currents of a hallucination
that resurfaces in impregnations
of adrenaline and perfume.
The stones of the riverbank resound.
I send you a kiss, catch it with your lips,
and give me the halo of your hours,
that run through the climax of your lyrics...
Thousands of zephyrs scatter your verses,
sighs, and harmonies.
On the petals of the audience;
a diaphanous clairvoyance of cave sun,
It announce your arrival.
Dress of oblivion and opaque memories,
you sets fire to the forest of waiting.
which cloud of yesterday,
like the poet who can't find
You magnetize around dry and green leaves,
that adhere to your physiognomy,
and they turn into caresses...
A non-existent being of letters
Despite the flattery,
I realized that it wasn't real.
Something told me, that night of opaque visions.
That mist of steam, always appeared,
with its dark blundering appearance.
I chose to dilute myself in other smoke,
of fire and recent ashes.
My consistency of white smoke,
it went dark for brief intervals.
But then I take back its inner light,
in bursts of quiet creativity.
After all, he didn't exist.
he was just a being of letters.
that he could not feel,
nor look with a his expressive eyes,
of tame hawk.
Between two realities
Disintegrated my straight hair,
covering the pillow with thoughts,
who frolicked in the arms of Morpheus.
My body lopsided in a cloud,
He disagreed with the concerns,
freedom after litigation, would be the best,
in trunks of silent dreams.
Placid, she lay half-awake and half-asleep,
Between two realities,
the spirit that inhabited my body by day,
I didn't know if I should go back now, or not.
© 2022 Venus Mary