Monday, November 23, 2009

Stained Sky

Grey stained sky,
you'd remember as we walked by
the sun fighting clouds through isn't strong enough
Green brightly colored bushes as a symbol of my pride
and all the shame I've left behind
walking by your side has hardly ever been this rough
"What tree is that?", I'd say
what kind of fruit I would taste anyway
but you just laughed at my doubts and my face

And then I wished this church was crowded
and the roof suddenly crashed down on its own
so you and I would be alone
joined only by the holy authorities and the grey sky
I nearly died when you didn't tell me
about the pain you had to hide
from the spying clouds above

Such wish has never been told
how lemons secretly stop growing old
when you know the right way to take their juice away
and leave their feeble bodies free of guilt or fault
to fall softly and happy straight down
on the ground

Who would ever be as crazy and sad as to paint
his own house with such a crazy happy pink color
If we were walking down that road I'd maybe stop and stare
but truly, I don't care
though my deadlines are so damn near
and I'm still not worried,
any shade of fear within my grasp
but then am I to blame when the garden is still stainless
for my flawless lack of interest
if only I could reach the skies
and get rid of their grey hesitation
when I can't help but hesitate
if only the daylight would play me again
some jazzy piano and Spanish strings
a great performer such as the sun remains trapped amongst things
I don't know nothing of

It is fine but it is not
the harder I try, the lesser I manage to fix this plot

Saturday, November 21, 2009

The Sparkling Day

The engine's running
but we're almost out of time for tonight's event
as she's looking outside, her reflection in the polished mirror
of a fancy car running through the crowded streets
as the hot blood rushing in her veins
and making her cheeks the cherriest red ever
Her lips... the scarlet redheaded ladies lost in a snow storm
But beneath her white dress a desire still warm
Pulses with constant hope for what's to come

I don't know what to say, or what message
to send through my eyes
but you'll figure it out by my surprise
when you enter the room
And I glaze at your presence so soon you'll be stricken out
Lost and losing control
But what snow? Summer's all over tonight's show

I don't know what to say, or what to show
I don't have ways to sparkle
Or this necklace in the neck they never really noticed

Wednesday, November 18, 2009


Vituperative thinking
Wishes her head would spin
a hundred crazy loops
so she could spit out all that she has seen
and heard
and been
Looking around
pieces of security and pieces of what
she always wanted to become
like beads of light, in her dark dreams
she's drawn to in the most intense ways
and tries to get to by any means possible

Spit it out
what they see in her
so they don't deserve to learn of her
learn of her truth
Her wounds are outside in, and theirs inside out
but still she asks it loud, what it's all about
the inner battling for social graces

Louder still is the intuition:
when drinking for the first time
a life so deep and fierce
that it turns out to be poisoning,
vomiting is the solution.

Sunday, November 08, 2009


I will miss you dearly
Shortly after signing the papers
and riding the morning trains back home
As blurred and nitid faces cross my mind
and my head falls back
I am asleep before I know it better

Is it blood on the floor, or just dark ink?
Maybe some kind of deadly drink
your dizziness made you drop
I couldn't care less as I stroll past the crowd
dancing to the songs we both knew so well
You don't know me yet,
and you never will
For it is always too soon or too late
and my chances always few
But can't we always pretend it is easier
as I do actually think of myself to have evolved
past all this
I love the face you shake to the sad old beats tonight
You don't know me yet,
but such beauty is no stranger to my sight

Inviting old hunters to party along
it's becoming usual to sing that same song
There's no living up to the dreams and plans we all had before
maps drawn on floors that are filthy from our shoes
and can't be read anymore
So, who to follow?
Drawn to beauties foul and betraying
ashamed of such feeling
confidence pills never did me any harm
Show me some weakness behind your pretty look
let me touch your scars
and maybe softly stroke your white and smooth skin
I am already leaving before I know it better

Then realizing lost time is like waters flown
Too late it is now,
at least soon is not an option
though I've lived long enough,
I don't know me well
and I never will
Run to the exit door
and hope it isn't raining outside
not to trip on wet sidewalks from your repeated strides