Ayi Escalona Poems

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Her Email (To Honduras With Love Vii)

Darkness creeps into the bluest skies
And alas, there are your words
The very essence and purpose
Of my day is about to begin

Song To My Beloved

O' damsel I caressed
Of sweet love i praised
the lass i sanctify
a goddess of my eye

I Dropped The Second Bomb In Hiroshima

Like a thirsty man trapped in the sanctuary of thoughts
I tread in the tranquility of Hiroshima’s memorial of peace
There, I imbibe every frame of destruction
My innocence wandered to all corners faster than a child

Christmas, Day After

The roads are unusually silent
Like a tuneless music room
I felt so deaf to listen to nothing
Aimlessly I am drifted to no where

To Honduras With Love

How could I conquer the loneliness of night
When every spark of burning thoughts is pain
And this heart pumped tears and not blood
Shall I keep on weeping and wait for the wound to heal


flickers of silver lights
traversed the skies
roaring like thunder's
glaring despise....

Beautiful Hands

Foolish Heartbeat

The day is gone leaving scattered emblems
Of once picturesque skies
A cool shadow, flickers of gold
Shimmering beauty captured in vast thoughts

In Poetry There Is No Poverty

there is no poverty in poetry: it is a rich world
of flowers
and magic, of images that imaginations create
a warm sun

The Pen Is Mightier Than The Sword

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