El Poeta Halley

You will catch me in flight
And never on the wall
And if you leave me air
In your lines I will sleep
Words of a muse
From maternal leave
Maybe finally I know myself very well
If my quirks were gray dots
Every flaw I created
By following them with a pencil in the end
You would see my face on the paper

That's why
I'm here again
Searching in my storage for that word
Consul of my shyness
I hope I find the way
It's better for me
I have a topic to finish
If it never appears?
Or do I understand that I didn't find the right word?
And when I finally find it, a sea of doubts comes
If when I decide you always stop me
You squeeze me right here and say
NO, my loyal traitor, inspiration
When you appear less, I am
And I am me

You will fall asleep
What a novelty
My geniocide is worse
When I don't let you speak
On the highway of life
If you miss the exit, you have to wait
Maybe
I haven't learned to accept
That squadrons of Judeo-Christian morality
With their guilt
Will follow us by land, by air
And above all for loving
Maybe
I am delaying the action
At twelve I had a dream that I won
But the dream defeated me
Since then my defeats are the marks on the card
Of that self

Now listen to me
I have found the right word
Better get ready
It has something that scares everyone
Yes, I'm going to release it
I want to release it
I will say 'hope'
I will shout it inside if necessary
I will write it a thousand times, I will walk away backwards
Maybe by repeating it something will remain
I can't allow your denial
My loyal traitor inspiration
Of intermittent appearance
Like an angel found in an elevator
How well you work as a memory

I welcome in my home
Words I have found abandoned in my word box
I examine every cage and there
Barking vowels and consonants
I find dirty verbs
That cry after being abandoned
By a subject who once was their master
And so conceited he was
He dispensed with the predicate
This same week
They found a couple of disturbed adjectives
Three adverbs dead from cold
And as many of the pronoun race
Dreaming in their cages
To be the shadow of a child
I then point out
The words that have been abandoned the longest
And I take them home
I vaccinate them against rabies and comb them my way
As if they were only children
Because in truth they are all unique
Then
And before integrating them into a kindergarten of stories or songs
I give them a kiss of ink
And I tell them that if you want to earn respect
You should never forget the accents in the courtyard
Sometimes, I put diacritics of colors on my words
Imitating diadems
And I just watch them play in the poem's courtyard
They almost always leave you too soon
And you hear them in other mouths
And you rejoice, and you get angry with yourself
As with everything we love with a certain selfishness
And one stays at home
Inert and somewhat empty
Caressing that mute word called silence
Always faithful, always with you
But everything is the law of life
As the Halley Poet once told me
If words attract each other
Let them join each other
And shine
They are two syllables!