A voice is raised

A voice is raised Among the drunken crowd, Nobody listens because- Hurry up please, it’s time. But she’s desperate, but still, She tries, nobody listens, it’s all- Hurry up please, it’s time. In vain, she won’t be heard She cannot breathe she’ll suffocate- Hurry up please, it’s time.   silence.   @mena.poetry Foto: Ídem  ... Leer más →


Es el momento que, Entre mis labios, Un suspiro visible asoma, Pero el frío era tal, Que no dije nada. Me quedé con las ganas.   @mena.poetry Foto: Ídem                

I will not repent

I will not repent. I will not repent the fact that When misled, I drank, Long and deep, From the cup of perdition- While you watched And cheered But took small sips. I will not repent That I was a fool Yes, a fool, To ever believe that You were on my side. That when... Leer más →

Hurry up please

Hurry up please, it’s time– For what? For whom? The flowers sing inside the cage– It’s time – I’m late – For what? For whom? People walk out – I hear the messages come in My tea is cold, so am I, They speak tonight and say goodbye All the while all I hear is... Leer más →


Forget Is an easy word to say You tell me to relax To ground myself To slow down... But can't you see the mist That is surrounding me, The storm, the water Pouring on me are the Memories I never made. I fight against the vicious Wind that fights against me. You tell me to... Leer más →

The orchestra isn’t important

In the opera, in Venice,   The orchestra isn’t important.   The common folk talk And eat and drink.   The orchestra isn’t important.   The scholars pretending To listen to the words.   The orchestra isn’t important.   The boxes, like drawing rooms, Vast and richly furnished.   The orchestra isn’t important.   The... Leer más →

It’s not until now that

It’s not until now that I finally realise that I miss you more than I can say In your favourite city, Where you still inhabit my dreams Where I can see you In every wicked corner Of every wicked street.   @mena.poetry Foto: Anónima

There’s just something

There’s just something inherently Poetic about cigarettes and autumn And the way the ashes seem to fall Like the agèd leaves from the trees, That makes one feel lonelier still and Yet, so undisturbed.   @mena.poetry Foto: Ídem

I would someday like to meet

I would someday like to meet Someone brave enough to Sail the high seas of my tears Most of the time I’m in my world Trying to fight an ice age that Sticks stalactites to the walls Of my lungs, of my heart, They say nobody can melt This ice queen but I need your... Leer más →

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