Poetry
A poem.
Favorite spoon I don’t have,
But I always have to use the same cutlery,
E-ve-ry day!
My table at lunch is always the same,
Fork on the left, Knife on the right,
Spoon for dessert on top;
The lunch is always the same,
At the same tupperware,
And kiwi for dessert…
Poetry
#WritingPrompt: lost languages
The Portuguese I learned,
It’s no longer the same,
A few changes they made,
But in my journal, it doesn’t change.
Poetry
A poem.
Back in Bulgaria,
I tried something new;
What a freedom it was,
To sleep completely nude.
Days later,
On a camping trip,
Where I had my creative retreat,
And staying naked in the tent was the recipe.
Poetry
A poem.
Just because you’re standing,
Looking at me,
Won’t make me work faster;
I don’t work under pressure.
#WritingPrompt: the pace of life
Poetry
A poem.
I see you,
Walking, standing,
Or maybe, just a little bit of the top of your head,
When you’re sitting,
And I don’t know why,
But you’re a delight for my eyes.
Poetry
A poem.
Giving the sign to turn left,
No cars on the horizon,
So I move;
I’ve looked for the right,
And what I see made me think,
«Oh boy, humans are f*ckd!»
A car on the side,
When it should be behind;
It was two girls,
That I thought,
«They’re probable high.»…
