Jaime ReyesHildel Poems

In a dark room there was white wall.
Definitely not a gray wall, or an off white wall,
But a white wall of purity and such.
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Riot,
my soul stands in the fire that,
Burns with the coals of pride.
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There’s a machine
O god what a beautiful machine, a computer
She learns so much everyday, and she’s getting so full
But her brain gets so full that she runs out of room
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I climb the stairs of the old watchtower
I climb so high I don’t know why

Passing by the glare of the outer stares
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The weathermen told me the wind was blowing towards the west
But I don’t need to tell them I felt a slight pull to the north
I don’t know why I felt it best
To follow them instead of flying up and away.
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The hubble tells us where we ought to be.

the dreams moved out west,
into outer space.
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yesterday i felt alright
i could walk,
i could run,
i could see.
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I wish i had been born with down syndrome
Ignorant, without inhibitions
Or mayby without a sould.
My arms would flail up and down
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Bombs and explosions,
The beautiful dust bowl
of death and diein,
they are so beautiful,
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War is
War is
War is
War is the ideal in a mind so clouded and confused that the brutality cannot help but be beautiful,
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