My city gives me spaces for creation. I am lucky to be from Cumana and to share my talent with this land. The city that hugs me. On this occasion, I have been invited to share some of my poetic texts. I am always available to publicize my art forms and to thank for the opportunities they offer me in order to achieve it.
Night word // Poetic text
It's a matter of going off in the lamps and picking up the night. Twist the pillows and give heads to the rhythm of a whisper that nobody knows.
This bizarre darkness, I tell myself.
This dream to kilometers.
Go and come in one bed.
Prolongarse, in the face, two lagoons that open and close their waters.
This sweaty body, I tell myself.
This distant dream.
Dilatar, in the face, two awake locks that open and close the night.
And now, suddenly, like someone who opens his eyes, close them.
Close them open.
Close them of boredom.
Close them piece by piece!
Close them "because, the dream and death, they have nothing to say".
Posted from my blog with SteemPress : http://wilins.vornix.blog/2018/08/01/magazine-educarte-es-arte-irreverent-composition-wilins-mendez/
His poem made me reflect on the thin line of sleep and death, in that poetic abyss that is reached just before falling asleep, well structured his poem and beautiful city Cumana, greetings that you are very wel
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