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Pedro Tejada

Roar

Roses ride
'round the running romance
of resonance and rhythm,
reducing rulers
to a ripened rage.

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Psychosomatic Slavery

I stood there like a dropp of water
as you savagely tore my very last shred
of ill-fated dignity,
as you so cunningly blared through
my symphony of thoughts
with your out of tune foghorn.

There’s not a thing left to say.

I’ve already let every scathing insult,
every hideously imaged simile
escape from my yellow-tinted lips
just when I could find your eyes and ears
turn their attention towards another victim.

It makes my stomach turn and flare
to even try to find a reason
for the way you so menacingly throw
my existence through the gutter of your misery.

[...] Read more

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Organ Music

As the exhaust spewed its mourning glum
onto the whimpering porcelain snow,
the chauffeur looked up and desperately prayed
for an Academy Award winner.

'Novelty tears shall spout at all times! '
And the thespian will charge through those double doors,
beginning his craft from the moment he hears the bawdy organ
singing the deceased's pleas towards the golden gate of Heaven
and crunching through an audience of bawling admirers
of a man he barely knew.

He was chosen to give the eulogy.
Designated to speak on the behalf
of man he never thought to glance at twice,
besides the intervals of days spent
despising the realization of his existence,
resenting the scars created in surplus quantities,
stomping down the darkest layers still oozing from the coffin.

[...] Read more

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