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love poetry chat

el pasar a través de las paredes amontonadas y feas
pienso a menudo en la ciudad hermosa
quizás no es ninguna materia que usted murió
lo van
contra la llama verde del espino-a'rbol
hace mil años silenciosos
cuando miraba en sus ojos
fuera de mí indigno y desconocido
cómo como las estrellas es este el blanco, las caras sin nombre
lleno esta taza
usted piensa, mi muchacho, cuando pongo mis brazos alrededor de usted
plantemos
pero no puedo ahora leerle
caras hermosas, tragical

 



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  • Tuesday, Sep 30th - San Francisco Bay Guardian
  • Soetoro-Ng among guests at GiRL FeST - Honolulu Star-Bulletin
  • Doctor on a musical journey - Citizen Matters
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  • Strength gives him much more than just a lift (The Gleaner)
 

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