My Princess Poem by Cristobal Benjumea

separated, again material obstacles but our spirits mingle

but no physical dimention

to be materialised

jesus save me from the abyss

ill turn to water, what can i say, i miss you, one half of the orange is not a whole orange

Im waiting, and time passes

Time slips through my fingers and i wait for you

a dozen ladies pass in the park

time passes

and it will end and you will still be absent

i could be dancing, but this obsession this fixation upon which my world turns, is fake

So farr removed from animal attraction

it is not the proper pasing of the world

one day this obsession will disapear in the wind, and i will be left with the world, mixed with people of differing virtue

a troop of ladies garlanded pass

i pick one, like i pick a red flower in a field

time will end and i will have no one my soul will not be redeemed

in the jungle treasures are plentifull

time will end and i will be alone, only with you in my heart my lord

no more distractions, finally i see the road

i will submerge myself in the milieaux

a man on earth not looking for the fairest but though my soul is restless im in a terrace neighbouring the sea

im am atoms lost in the universe

apolo, or zeus, or dionisius

male, female male female

the brothels are a sure way of scoring, all earthly pleasures

life is a supermarket

But where is love and does it exist, is it just flesh that i want, do i know what i want

i want desdemona, and the spirit, but does the spirit exist

are we meer atoms,

i want affection, which you cant buy, friendship,

im no scientist more of darwins progeny,

i exist therefore i am

what does love ask, or want, confusion will be lifted

what qualities in a person does love ask

how do i concieve

together, alone together alone, which one do i choose

together, but not for the sake of a lable, or apearance sakes, like an object, not a result orientated effort.

Where the soul, redemption

to a starving man bread and sardines is a timely feast

So i limping find a sofa paradise

time goes on

To an abused person a caress is most wellcome

there is so mouch around me books objects boxes, i touch the surounding objects and grass

you live in my head but there is no evidence of us

i enquire the sun the starrs as to your whereabouts you live in me

the only phisical evidence is that i drag the hem of my cape in the dust, and i listen to the wind



i ask the wind where is she