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.

<<Axtlanadu>> Beyond My Tightrope Grasp To Dylan Thomas Your words flew helter‑skelter to the sky. I reach to grab your verses but they flee. Shrug my shoulders, shake bowed head, then cry. Your spinning brain spun crazy notes that fly So fast around me that they make me dizzy. Your words flew helter‑skelter to the sky. Manhattan pierced your flesh to bleed you dry. Too bad, its phallic towers did you badly. Shrug my shoulders, shake bowed head, then cry. The rhymes within your "Doomsday Book" slipped high Beyond my tightrope grasp and left me thirsty. Your words flew helter‑skelter to the sky. Your poems would make meats which gratify. You didn't relish them; you left too early. Shrug my shoulders, shake bowed head, then cry. Your light went out like last night's firefly. Perhaps your spirit sputters round a sea. Your words flew helter‑skelter to the sky. Shrug my shoulders, shake bowed head, then cry. <<Axtlanadu>>