Orange que te quiero verde, that's Poeticah
The Visual Poetry of Poeticah explores the boundaries between poetry, languages, and traditional with computer visual art.
This is a poem from my chapbook Axtlanadu.
Scattered Haiku Thread
He feels the desert floor get cooler.
In pensive mood he reminisces.
It’s like watching
A surrealistic movie
That uses montage.
Rose sunset moves
Softly as down over desert floor.
Then he sees, in quick succession,
Sunsets bleeding from tropical places.
He has been too many places to name.
Their scenes dissolve in bluish fog.
He has dealt with too many people to name.
Many faces shrink and expand
In and out of salmon smoke.
Yet most of them cannot evoke any feelings.
As if he has been everywhere, yet nowhere,
Experienced everything, yet nothing.
Wild rides on ocean waves;
Reckless spins in race cars;
Deep dark places drip, dripping, drip;
Cold hard places high on clouds;
Bounces and leanings of high small planes;
Warm passionate cries through women, more women.
But he did not commit himself
To any Thing.
Everything was a brief Toy.
His life is a snarled thread
Cut scattered over miles.
He looks back on crumbled lives.
There is nothing but Cold
Vacuum within his soul.
He feels Nothing.
Maybe, sometimes a faint stir
As if something should be there.
Colors in his movie lose vitality
As if in sync with dying pink sunset.
The montage stops.
He wakens to Hope at the milky way
Passing through star studded desert sky,
Like a streak
This hot scattered path
Will gather itself to shine
Like the milky way.