Month: May 2019

Color is…

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Flor

Life. It is love. It is celebration. It is the sound
of the drum echoing in the evening.
The decadent flow of a dancer hopping to the beat of her own story
the stitches to her soul.
Color is fruits, vegetables in your countertop,
the fish, the meat in your plate, the cocktail at the bar.
Color is liquified, blend. It sparkles.
It is juicy.
It is the trampoline, the tambourine on the hotel balcony
the blood in your vein
the color of your hair, your eyes,
the sugar in your pie.
Color is your heart, your emotions, your feeling
threatened by the colorless water,
tasteless transparent!

©️ Angela Aguiar

The List

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I did not make a list this year. I changed the channel and gazed.
Every year I do this, I make a list and wait as I watch the parade go by.
I sit and I write one line at a time but come next year, it goes the way of a smog; it evaporates. So, I changed the tune of a careless whisper.
I sat, perplexed, looking at the empty space in between the keyboard and thought it was a note, did the Macarena and voila, the light switch was back on!

©️ Angela Aguiar

If I Only Knew Tomorrow

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If I only knew tomorrow, I would write it in a big piece of paper, color it’s boarder with fortress surroundings smelling like a lavender. It would be full of sacred words and dedicated to Mrs Butterfly. It would describe the lessons of yesterday and telltales of today and images of tomorrow on a thin piece of paper stuck in the library of lessons. But I don’t know tomorrow. I just envision it to be the food in my refrigerator, biscuits in my cantina, paper flowers in my corridor of wonders, the big pendulant on the street corner dance, a glass of water on my bedside table inside the prepaid package yet to be delivered.

©️ Angela Aguiar