Far from vulgarity,
far from the mundane,
far from ordinary life.
Levitating among lights,
in my own private cosmos,
in the intimacy of simply living.
Reaching for the stars.
Eating soft‑glowing stars,
stars that taste of cream,
suns with a flavor of strawberry.
On that special other side,
among warm, sweet clouds,
in that imaginary world.
Climbing without leaving the ground,
far from everything, in that secret place.
Where life turns to silk,
where dreams caress,
where everything is simple,
far from the dull and empty.
In the softness
of imagination.
Overflowing world,
that other secret world.
Far beyond the reach of the real,
where love is dreamed,
and gifted words fall,
an unreachable world,
in the realm of light,
creating that love,
clothed in love,
in words
that run,
one after another,
as poems of light,
in that other world.
far from the mundane,
far from ordinary life.
Levitating among lights,
in my own private cosmos,
in the intimacy of simply living.
Reaching for the stars.
Eating soft‑glowing stars,
stars that taste of cream,
suns with a flavor of strawberry.
On that special other side,
among warm, sweet clouds,
in that imaginary world.
Climbing without leaving the ground,
far from everything, in that secret place.
Where life turns to silk,
where dreams caress,
where everything is simple,
far from the dull and empty.
In the softness
of imagination.
Overflowing world,
that other secret world.
Far beyond the reach of the real,
where love is dreamed,
and gifted words fall,
an unreachable world,
in the realm of light,
creating that love,
clothed in love,
in words
that run,
one after another,
as poems of light,
in that other world.
-
Author:
Carlos Alberto BUSTILLOS (
Offline) - Published: January 5th, 2026 13:37
- Category: Unclassified
- Views: 15
Offline)
Comments3
Good write C.
A separation of worlds in this poem. Nicely written about an idyllic world and that of reality. Nicely done
Ordinary life is quite mundane and can be vulgar at times too. This has a realistic spin to it as metaphors lead the way downward throughout stanzas into a place of love, dreams and poetry. If only there were a yellow brick road, I'd hop to it. This really drew me to a place of nostalgia, and that is quite difficult for me.
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