Bumbling Poetry No.6: Poetry Pulpit

I don't have a very good camera I'm afraid so the quality isn't great. I think it represents the mood quite well though. You'll note I have a lisp, believe me I find it much more irritating than you ever could.

Here's the poem in written form if, like me, you have an aversion to watching videos on blogs (and the word 'vlog'- it sounds like a slimy alien home world).

Lengua Materna

                              So known to me, like resting clasped hands, grazing thumbs.

                              We nod with raised eyebrows and smirk glances, private

                              Lean-tos in our ink and card fortress, bespoke

                              Noteboard moat of shared points, and tangent strings.

                              What hope for intruders? While they are reading

                              Pages from the vial on the pigeon’s leg,

                              We’re deciphering markings on its breast.

                              Perdóneme esta injusticia, él es mi hermano.

                              No sé como no ser extraño.

I read a set of ten poems and it all went down well as far as I could tell. I was surprised by how much people reacted to my more light-hearted pieces, so I think I'll write more of those. My friends did a great job of physically and emotionally holding me upright until it was time to go on, I was quite a state, and people who couldn't make it were just as supportive, so all my love goes to you all.