Catachretic Request

If I expressed all my feelings
You’d need more than a Noah’s ark
to save yourself from the flood;
If I wanted to pursue all my dreams
You’d need more than Daedalus’s pair of wings
to fly away into the skies. So, just stay.
I promise you no supernatural.
No mythology . No fable. No folklore.
Just an hour
to forget everything
about allegories and abstract metaphors.
I’ve always known we could have this
Without flying a single wing,
Without any figures of speech.

Circus Revolt

For your entertainment only
I’d train the infertile rustle to be your clown,
Tame my anxieties and juggle with my name -
Make it sound like a daredevil or a ringmaster bell
I’d incandescently crawl into the contingent
Giving my anabaptized ascension away
I’d take a journey of countless steps
on a tightrope,
Breathe fire,
Seize the unseized,
Challenge my immature falling
through the silvery passages of a trapeze
in a single day.
For your entertainment
I’d withdraw my doomed fruitless trials,
My dismantled burial stones,
and all the tokens of my sacred homeland
Once these curtained big top entrances
Have become a transparent zone.

Bankrupt Witchcraft

By wasting my nocturnal responses,
By reconciling your migrant doubts,
With nothing to exorcise in the 21st century,
Wherever we wake, we simply elate
at arbitrary subtleties
between smile codes and blurred binoculars,
we set off on affinal sunrise expeditions,
delaying dramas of selfless trekking
enchanting their tears
with fragmented spells of exposed moonlight sorcery.
By caroming the farewells into odd egocentric effusions
We simply perform
an infertile embellishment for ceremonial occasions,
outdating stereotypes and unprofitable lyricism
for the long forgiven or soon forgotten
spiritual muses and inspirational greed.
By confusing the earthly ritual prejudices
we are just assuming cold silver rings
will finally protect our vital organs
from hypnotizing gold reveries .