|| words caught in between the ribs ||

some words

hoping to escape from the paper

came out flapping

like birds or butterflies

some words

like perfume

wished to settle into the paper

some words

no matter what shape they take

are only conscious of themselves

but when

they are now in human hands

they become dangerous

even to man himself

there is no sense

of pleasure left now

in the charming words

and from the words of man

still exude the lingering smell of his

animal self

and now a days

there are sham flowers

made of paper and plastic

that one even hopes to capture their

fragrance

in transparent flasks

new words, then

are given to these flowers

that hopefully would let them flourish

just like

money

man has been converted into

computers and electronics

with 'robot' as his new name

but some of the words

absurd and meaningless

have only their hollow sounds left to

them

and they

do not realize in time

that they do not ring true anymore

on their bed of paper

but like the last breath

within the chest

of an old patient

that gurgles

every time he is about to give up

the ghost.

(Painting : Agustin Castillo)