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Daily Selected Poems : Eric Aguilar

Eric Aguilar | Wednesday, 20 October 2021 | Print

Eric Aguilar

“Rise to the Veil of Night”

When the mountain smiles the moon,

it sits warmly on its shoulder.

By boulder of light,

it gives rise to the veil of night.

Most precise of times pendulum.

It towers of nights mischief,

for all to see it’s celestial face.

Such of the shadows scamper,

bending behind illumination.

The radiance of its arc three-sixty.

Its orange and blue hues

show fullness of front.

It ladders a stepping stone

to unknown places.

In the mists, it’s light is even more.

Filaments of green grasp to

to the place where you might

…reach for the moon.

…………………………………….

Branded

Tempered iron

hot by fire.

Signature line Label.

Logo recognizable;

Control Stable.

On the go, any which way

factory to table.

Sixteen wheelers

live on the air, FiOS, cable.

Stay tuned; brainwashed,

a slave to signing the bill.

Receipts of taxes & of taxes

and capitalism established.

Coins ring chimes hypnotizing

civilians in a symphony

conducted by

anonymous maestros.

Ads suited of braided jingles

remain stuck in your head.

All that’s contained in dollar bills

is in a trends currency.

Barriers in cadence

make spaces in

parking lots of despair.

Stop, posh, shop

credit cards in the air.

The pull of impulse

to buy or steal

the product of demand.

Outsourced, imported,

manufactured, hand made.

The bulls eye focused

on genders and age.

Convenience non stop;

Scanning barcode cadavers.

Smart marketing ads

Convincing ego that

I gotta have it.

Subliminal texts cue

the back to an upfront

coming soon of consciousness.

Due to profits

concepts of new images;

alchemists mold idols

oiled and polished.

Trade Marking product

so the lame know the X.

Burned, seared, seasoned

stamped, stuck, cut

painted, smeared, scarred,

tattooed, tarnished, antique,

branded.

By: Eric Aguilar

……………………………………….

“A Picture of You”

As night falls
I find the day in mourning.
All of my accomplishments for nothing.
In life’s closet I find myself alone;
holding a picture of you.
Wanting to care, I call out.
Life feels so empty
without love to share it with.
To have company of your own
subtracted from the present
brings a longing down, deep within.
To have and to hold,
the most special memories fill my center.
My heart is a picture of you
but, my mind only sees the negative.
A piece of forever longing to be told;
only my soul knows the pain.
The joy is in the instant of a flash.
Your image stands positioned
within a thoughts frame.
I stand in wait for truths reveal
knowing my life’s subject
is a picture of you.

………………………………………..

“Cusp the Caterpillar”

There once was a wise caterpillar
who knew something of the tree.
Though his legs were very fast,
they waited to proceed…
The worm that can walk
is such a funny little thing.
For, it took time for his body
to catch up to his feet.
He barely braved the elements
and climbed the big tree.
At the edge of a broken branch,
he took a sit to see.
Then he hung his hammock
resting between a twig and a leaf.
For, it took time for his body
to catch up with his wings.