The Bird, The Cat, The Monster And I…. Poem by Poetheart Morgan

i am at a secular house

wondering ~ out there~

closed….in doubt….

and i assume that i am a little insane

anyway…..

peeking on a strange tree
~ sometimes green ~
and sometimes solitude ~
when it is arched by my breath

a red bird sing his freedom



Inside the house, behind a dozen of vitreous eyes…..

a contemplative cat ~dreaming~

AH! The window….the open windows





hidden in the kitchen ~ a monster ~ noisily~ resides

with its fangs open waiting for something alive

i feel that at any move ~at any glance ~at any breath~





if i change my way of look things

becoming my vision into a glassy eyes

the cat will be a plush … forever

the bird…something mechanical

But the hid monster will remain

as he is….

So doesn' t matter





would not be nothing remarkable
i firmly assuming to watch them
~in that way~
i am in a chair ~ a chair with stories to tell~

~Mum outside stories~

the bird is hanging everywhere

the cat probably in a profound meditation

and The guardian waiting for my carelessness

And i hoping the return to my normal
as people and bird and monsters and cat must be