Windsor Guadalupe Jr Poems

These are troubled times
That I have bastioned so well –
The night is swollen.
The winds are harsh and impertinent.
...

The mirror speaks inaudibly
Mimicking the motions of my lips
As if intimately kissing the glass
With subtle hints of moist and sweat.
...

Of this, I am sure of –
She is still awake,
And singeing the night.
Behind the cream curtains,
...

I writhe
And pirouette like
A roulette of inane dreams.
And then,
...

Thanks, but no thanks
For the lost souls outnumber
Those who have been found -
I remember being intoxicated
...

And there were voices
Wailing in my head like despaired fellows
Of distraught.
How are you?
...

And he conspired with pen and paper
Which rested on a metal chart
Inside were medical terminologies –
And inside the chart were
...

And he sat in front of me,
In a considerably comfortable distance
That I yield – to ameliorate my condition.
He held his pen, and examined me.
...

In moderation,
I have found the vaguest of reasons
As I perched atop the headboards,
Catching dreams that plummet into the abyss –
...

And little Madison went,
With a garland of tulips
Gyratory upon her head,
And she looked fairly swell
...