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PAR (Paulo Acácio Ramos)Offline

    • editin out the madman

      I catch him
      at the tip of my tongue
      right when he starts pushin thru
      jam him back down
      hand over my mouth
      til the noise dies off
      and what comes out
      sounds like the me
      they said could stay

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      • Sometimes though, staying is not what is needed?? Sometimes…. wait, my madman is loose, damn. Is this why I never get invited to any parties!!?? Sorry TwoFiftyThree, next time I’ll make sure the madman is left at home. Enjoyed reading your poem!! -Curt

    • Lighthouse Wife

      I married a man of the sea.

      Salt lives deep in his bones.
      The horizon rests in his eyes
      like something he once chased
      and never fully left behind.

      They told me the war was over.

      The uniform folded.
      The medals sleeping in a drawer.
      The world moving forward
      as if violence were a season
      that knew how to end.

      But…Read More

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    • Monochromatic

      if you think about it…
      they don’t have a lot of talent
      there’s really only one color in their palette
      and even that’s growing thin
      so busy painting fences with their hatred
      they’re not even trying to pretend
      hyper-focused on us vs them

      (like there’s really any difference
      blood…bones…organs…tissue…
      all the…Read More

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      • It is strange how for some people their desire for easy, quick answer to complex problems fools them until reality sets in and they discover what their lack of understanding smacks them upside the head. I always found this pithy quote from MaoTse tung appropriate: “Nothing is hard in this world if you dare to scale the heights.” -Curt

        • Failing to look too far down the road will often result in a crash or a near crash. Immediate answers aren’t usually complete. Thank you, Curt

    • When the Bird Returns to Remind Us We’re Still Human

      On the 3rd,
      we all see a bird coming back home
      as if it had been waiting
      for April’s foolishness to calm down
      before daring to cross our skies again.

      It glides in with that effortless arrogance
      only birds and very old truths possess,
      cutting a clean line through the blu…Read More

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    • It’s Crying Gas, Girl!
      I know Burl, my name’s Furl, my lips curl, I’m your girl!
      It’s Crying Gas, Girl!
      This gross mask, your big ask, the gas flask, my head cask!
      It’s Crying Gas, Girl!
      I hate this, I can’t hiss, I can’t kiss, I can’t piss!
      It’s Crying Gas, Girl!
      The gas stinks, my face pinks, one eye winks, my hair kinks!
      It’s Cryi…Read More

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