Self-portrait
©2001 Mirel Brisca
I am an island of reason
In a sea of grass,
Or so I’ve been told
By a great philosopher.
I scream my Latin
To frighten the dog,
And I see him
Waving the flag
As he runs,
Pulling my land
Like a carriage,
Leaving me seeking
The eternal youth.
Ignorance
©2001 Mirel Brisca
I spin again and again
Like a top.
I swallow the earth
As I grow,
I overcome our galaxy
To become infinite.
I peek in the universe
For an angel,
I am boundlessly alone
And I pray.
A comet strikes me
In the head,
Then I explode noisily,
Like a balloon.
Now I can leave your house
For a while,
Because I have a cure
To my giantess.
Punishment
©2001 Mirel Brisca
The sin kills me
Slowly sucking my spine
Of its marrow.
I peel my skin of paper
And I try to burn it,
But it melts like wax,
Warming my fingers,
Scaring my bones.
I should cover my flesh,
But it’s too late.
I take a dive in the truth
To wash off the dead meat.
The skeleton comes out,
White and without shadow.
I wonder what I am
Do I comprehend?
Another sign
©2001 Mirel Brisca
The angel is dead,
I do not hold him,
Thus, he becomes water
leaking through my fingers.
He wets my knee
and washes my legs
with his way of going.
Leaving me alone
forever running.
Incapable of losing,
unfit for the soul,
I am talking
without reason,
hardly letting myself in.
Born from a word
I carry my meaning
in a holy desert.
I ask if I am, but the screams
do not leave me,
so I will stay
adding loneliness
to the desert.
Prayer
©2001 Mirel Brisca
Divinity of lust
Mother me
While I praise
The hour.
Give a glance
To a disgusting
Inward doing
Of genuine glare.
[click to view introduction]