World of dust

Don’t get curious when you’re cleaning.

Hazardous, that, if you get my meaning.

My little brother, he was only eight,

He’s very little, not packing much weight.

On the powerful vacuum so fascinating,

He did some too thorough eye-investigating.

It sucked him right in, with a loud hiss.

When mother came she saw something was amiss.

She looked under the couch and above the refrigerator

She looked high and low, a real investigator.

No sign of little brother, none whatsoever.

A disaster like this, it’s not enough to be clever.

My baby brother now lives among the dust

In a world without a sun. now he must

Find his way out if he is ever able

In the dark, with a stick, a piece of a cable.


Memories of my death

I can remember that I was held under

Long enough for my lungs to tear themselves asunder.

I can remember trying to fight back,

Without any breath, my body just a sack.

I can remember that I screamed and screamed,

Screamed so long I thought I dreamed

The time without screaming, the drowning and pain,

Screamed until I broke, I was no longer sane.

Then, if I’m right, I think I died,

I… I think I actually died.

If I died… Then am I a ghost?

Doomed to wander this bleak coast.

I remember my death. What now?

I can’t stay, I must move on? But how?

Liver fog

Around where I live we have weird weather:

Instead of wind we have strips of leather,

Flying around, hitting our faces,

Tangling up engines in high-up places.

Instead of rain we have falling shouts,

Disembodied voices of referees in bouts.

“Disqualified!” from above with a Doppler effect

Weirds you out with a cockney dialect.

Instead of fog we have a reddish-brown gas

That tastes like liver, i.e., ass.

It comes once a month like clockwork almost,

So you know to get the gas mask or travel to the coast.

That’s what I’d call weird, when it comes to weather.

You might not, you can disagree altogether.

King Worthless

I watched the movie The Cell, and I found its subject matter of entering other people’s dreams interesting. I started toying with the thought of a rescue operation of a person stuck in someone else’s world going wrong, which led to this:


They sent me, the one they could spare

To save one of us from the sorcerer’s snare.

Who would have known that this world not true

Would become my home, and I greet you.

Hail, King Worthless! I offer my greetings

In this most auspicious of all possible meetings

I came for a friend in your nightmare land

But it is more familiar than the back of my hand.

I think I will take over and make it my domain

The world you created inside your puny brain.

See? I took your crown without trying

Such a worthless king, cheating and lying

Hoping to keep your subjects in line

If it were me, I would take what is mine

Take it with my power, absolute and awesome,

I will take it all and make this world blossom.

I think it is time for you to not exist

You never were with a flick of my wrist.

Now, my friend, please do not cry,

I think now it is time for you to die.

You are the link to the real world, the last

When you are gone I will not have a past.

I will be king, my reign will be free

Now even God can’t stand before me!

On the edge

Standing on the precipice of an endless void,

If you fell in you would be destroyed,

But you can’t escape, it draws you in,

When you look down your head starts to spin.

So you stand there fearing for a thousand years

Stuck in one place, controlled by your fears.

Would you jump in to an almost certain death?

Would it be better than feeling its cold breath?

Perpetual fear or possible demise?

At least falling down you might see endless skies,

That is, if you could, falling might be lies.

Pillo the pillow

Pillo the pillow,

When the sleep sails billow,

Sneaking under the whispering willow.

Searching for leaves

Under the eaves

With the intention of harmless thieves.

The leaves he takes

He never breaks

Stuffs in himself, small or big flakes.

This he does

Without any fuss

This he does and only because,

He likes you

Wants to help you through

The sleepless nights and he strikes true.

Hair of foam

I went to the market where they have it all,

Someone to serve you, save you from a fall.


They sold children to use in shops,

Urchins to steal, can’t be caught by cops.

Factory girls with the nimblest hands

Musically talented ones for your bands.

They sold adults, weak and blind,

With a thousand stories, thoughtfully refined,

They sold elders to care for your young,

With soft eyes that teared up as they sung.

Hard-skinned strong ones to take on the hunt,

Acrobatics masters for the thousandth stunt.

Beauties of mind and body all around,

But missing the one that I just hadn’t found.

I asked around but couldn’t find a hint,

The tiresome day turned my feet into flint.

Once more frustrated, I returned home.

Without my love with her hair of foam,

Her voice of waves, sunshine in the eyes,

Her great strength to life me to the skies.

Take me down under to see what lies beneath,

I didn’t find her in her blue-green wreath.