cristobal Benjumea

Rookie - 298 Points (190865 / jersey)

hope and submission to his divine spirit, at the dawn


My cynisism levels have to drop to the floor

cause of my feelings,

i needsomeone to love too, im not special and diferent

iss this another massacre of laurel leaves

is my mind playing tricks on me

i dont like the bell on the tram as much asi like the dale, the field

the green field with the statue

love took hold of me screwed me up like newspaper and turned me into a

another screwedup person with a drink problem, that

i perfer to get personal when im in bed with

there is no mob rule and you can hear michelangelo

sing to the beaten

geting close to me the freshnesss

of the cararacts

the crystal rivers journey through the stars, ,

to the sea

be sweet my love in waiting

ti you have detected the roughened edge of his colourfull carpet

and know that you have thrilled him as he lay there wishing on a star

and making sense of his symphony

he has the pose of the leopard now

but then the lizard, or some other metamorphosis

he will be a lighthouse for his ancestors

Submitted: Friday, August 15, 2014

Topic of this poem: love and art


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Comments about this poem (hope and submission to his divine spirit, at the dawn by cristobal Benjumea )

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  • Gold Star - 12,629 Points Mandolyn ... (8/16/2014 12:31:00 AM)

    Whoa. This is punch drunk good.
    The dale? Interesting....
    I like the grammatical errors-it works. (Report) Reply

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