Category: Compositions
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On still nights I can hear
On still nights I can hear the wind in solitude breathing, roaming in habitual journey. It goes through cycles with murmurs and tantrums. I remember that in a dimmed sunlight the wind envelopes my sides. My scarf and blue ribbon sway at large, flowing and spreading out, wings if only I learned to pull at…
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Words are not stable
Oh, no, words are not stable. in a fleeing flutter, they can easily pass me by. When they settle, it’s at their own pace. They are happy to run into each other, to intermingle, and still, I try to build with them permanent monuments: to host the history of my memories and visitors to my curiosities… when given a chance.
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some granny or grandpa better love this one:
Grandma & Grandpa or Grandma & Grandma or Grandpa & Grandpa it really doesn’t matter, what I know about love is that it really isn’t blind. It simply chooses to see what others don’t, like the way sunlight highlights eyes and strands of hair, and turns lips into promises.
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Hanging hope
You are my favorite most crumbled love poem. I place you against prison bars made from the clenched fists inside my chest… bailing you out with second chances. Someday, you’ll come through… teach me how to breathe again.
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On friendship and living
The things that happen when I’m away: I’ve got friends working 8 hour shifts, who have learned to tackle work and class schedules without forgetting how to breathe. I’ve got friends with marriage plans, promising to pause on the baby-raising. I’ve got friends who made no such promises, and are raising babies on their own.…
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To the Daughter I May or May Not Have Some Day
Every curve on your body reads like unpublished poetry, understand, the public isn’t ready for your static electricity, a transient spark of beauty of which Death’s envy destroys by violence in your prime. In spite of the crimes against you, you must never forget, you are sublime.
Claudia Rojas 