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PAR (Paulo Acácio Ramos) posted in the group National Poetry Month
The Lurker and the Birthday That Won’t Die
April 29th begins with the quiet truth
that life is a lurker.
It hides behind doors,
peeks through curtains,
waits in the corners
where the light forgets to reach.It watches you
with the patience
of something that knows
you’ll eventually turn around.And then,
as if the day nee…Read More -
PAR (Paulo Acácio Ramos) posted in the group National Poetry Month
The House Where the World’s Bugs Gather
April 28th arrives
as an infested house,
a structure trembling
under the soft, relentless weight
of everything that crawls,
buzzes,
flutters,
or insists on existing
in the cracks of the world.It is not one kind of bug.
It is all bugs,
every species the ending world
has ever whispered into b…Read More -
PAR (Paulo Acácio Ramos) changed their profile picture
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PAR (Paulo Acácio Ramos) wrote a new post
4 Comments-
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“And by the time it ends,
you realize:
you have traveled
farther inside yourself
than any map
could ever show.”Brilliantly penned, PAR. Another excellent write (day) my friend. This one is definitely all about the miles traveled, journeys tend to do that it seems. Amazing read with precise imagery brother, I could picture the surroundings especially the highway. Nicely done as always. That last stanza was chef’s kiss. I concur with Fia. Appreciate you.
Damian
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PAR (Paulo Acácio Ramos) posted in the group National Poetry Month
April 27th – Down, Up, Along, As If Tomorrow Didn’t Exist
April 27th begins
down the stairs,
all the way long,
each step a small surrender,
each landing a brief negotiation
between gravity and will.It is a descent
that feels older than you,
a movement inherited
from every fall
you’ve ever survived.But the day does not stay low…Read More
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Not sure I want to go inside myself that far PAR. I just might go inside so far that I see my self outside looking in. That would be a paradox, and people would say I am insane, more so than usual. So, while I enjoyed reading your poem very muchly, I think I will just sleep this 27th day of poetry away. Wake me up at 12:O1 on the 28th. (It is a…Read More
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That last stanza
“And by the time it ends,
you realize:
you have traveled
farther inside yourself
than any map
could ever show.”
Par man that is gold