weather satellites and poetry

Spelling my thoughts,
spilling my beer and trying to catch
the weather satellite it’s upsetting to me.

Now as to the issue of poetry
I don’t have much experience
but the road west to the coast
and the secret you drive me to it.

I always think of you
and heard, somewhere, that you’re
thinking about me, that you can’t think
great thoughts when fighting off your own feelings.

Oh, I see the satellite again,
motherfucker, there you're!
this is a new hobby of mine, but every time
I see this one going south, I feel misty, like la llorona, a big cry baby...sorry.!

Fidel Guerra. Oregon, March 25, 2022.

 

Isn't that satellite a trick of your mind, dear friend Fidel? A trick that
prevents you from receiving the love of a lady who is always thinking of you
and who deserves to be loved too?
If it is, master your thoughts. Never allow your thoughts to dominate you.

With the brotherhood of always,

Ulpiano

 

Dear friend, Alpiano,
Thanks, I am humbled by your kind words and courageous attitude responding to my poem. That’s because very few come in and visit the guy who writes this strange poetry. For that, I again thank you.!! Dear amigo, you have brought not only hope and joy but you also elevated the level of me understanding my own thinking.

On the very night that this poem happened lots of satellites passed by, but I wasn’t sure if because of the conflict (Ukraine) the U.S placed many more of these over the Pacific. Anyhow, I always observed two or three of these bright dots heading south and, as a result, I tend to feel homesick. Of course, beer, poetry, grammar issues, a glimmering girl or secret influencer and a sensible me don’t mix...

thank you very mucho,

Fidel Guerra.

 

At your kind orders, friend.
Now I understand, dear friend Fidel.
My thoughts were not far from yours. What matters most is that you feel good, that you never have reasons to be sad. Seeing a sad poet is like seeing the God of poetry crying.
Another supportive hug,
Ramiro