Monday, March 21, 2011

The Religion Of Words

Pablo speaks to me at night
ever at my window
whispering in the dark,
stories,
tales that cross seas and
skies
Oh the religion of the
words!
He calls.
I echo.
Poetry, poetry.
Like moonlight
his words seep in,
touching me here
and there
fuelling the dying flames
of inspiration
clearing the clouds that settled
in my eyes
oh the religion of words!
He calls.
I echo.

He loves to tell me secrets
of pasts regretted
and lives wasted
of art that floats
like air
unseen necessities.
“Poeta! Poeta!
Don't be afraid of sweetness”
he murmurs
then goes,
back to the pages
where his spirit
is written
back to
his religion of words,
the scriptures of a
poet.
I return to my pillow
of painted dreams
and another day is born.

The Show of the Night

The curtain of the sky
has come down,
hands applauded
And the stars rest in
their changing rooms,
The show of the night
sold-out in the day
is over!
Sorry mi amor
I went without you
wanting to see it all
up-close
And cast my eyes on
the stellar performance
to see life in the night
from the front role,
from where thought,doubt
and fear cannot find me
And I am no longer in the clasps
of sorrow.

Maybe it will come again
But day alone is not sure
and what of night?
But if Heaven, Hell and
Oblivion do not
collide today
we'll go together
hand in hand
and watch the show of the
night.

La Noche

La noche.
La noche.
Dreams,
no, dreams aren't for the satisfied-
those in love with the real.
those not clinging to the paraphernalia of time,
we believe not in the stillness of thought
but in the beauty of action,
holding, embracing moments
as they come not when it
is their time to leave,
to waltz out into memory
into the subconscious.
Never digging through
the rubble of the past
looking for surviving trinkets of time

La noche
La noche
A sky bejeweled
and under it motion .
Yes locomotive nights
moments fast coming,
fast fading,
you are at fault not enjoy it
not to dance when music plays loud
roaring!
a lion in your ear
you have howled
yourself into a pit
dug by your own hands,
where you waste time
wishing on fairy dust,
hoping to redo, undo, replay
and alter
so you can get a second chance
But time does not favor.
my friend,
Time does not pick sides.
Rise and kiss the real,
love the image not its reflection
embrace the now
and not its shadow.

Kisses Under Peach Trees

Kisses under peach trees
hand in hand
on summer grass,
Time passes swiftly by,
unnoticed.
And day turns into night,
without recognition.
But even as night appears
I can still see the sun in
your eyes,
bursting light in your sockets.
Love.
Simple love is the most
intense,
our mouths too busy
to speak
but our hearts chatter.
Connect.
Entwine.

Thoughts are blocked
And I cross from my
bridge of feeling to
yours.
Swiftly
And then I see you.
I see your hoarded
wishes and your
guarded hopes
And you see mine.
'I love you' is simply
another way to say
I know you more than
I know myself,
more than you know
I know you.
And all I know about you
was told to me by your heart.

Wednesday, March 16, 2011

I Want To Die A Rose

I want to die a rose
freshly budding from
the ground,
a summer's day
Rosita
with petals
all colours found,
a tall angelic
flower
of beauty and of lush
that sways
and dances
in the wind rush.

I want to die a rose
shimmering in the sunrise,
& one day be uprooted
to grace a lover's hair
& bring colour to her eyes,
my journey will end
in a cherished diary
on a lavender-scented page
with beautiful calligraphy
under me it will say
“Jack gave me this rose
on that sunny day in may”

Tuesday, March 15, 2011

I Made a Mistake

I made a mistake
a new one,
my latest one,
one to add to my millions
but this one
this special one
wins the golden trophy
and thrushes its flag
on Mistake hill

I made a mistake
even sorry can't defeat
a bouquet of flowers
a bar of chocolate
even a guilty tear
cannot erase,
cannot undo
cannot mitigate

I made a mistake
that will always
belong to me
as the rumours spread
it will be used to define me
see that girl, she's the one,
the one who made that mistake

I made a mistake,
I've made many
and I'll make more
but this one demeans
all made before

The Blue-Gum Tree

The tall blue-gum tree
covers me with a blanket
of lavender
as boughs sway in the wind
and leaves fall on me
I lay there put,
under my natural
duvet,
and then i think
I dare to think
That this is when I'm
at my best
when pea-green caterpillars
climb and nap
upon my chest
when ladybirds dance on
my skin
and butterflies
kiss my shin
the grasshoppers, the hummingbirds,
the candy-scented bees,the leaping
crickets, the humble frogs
all come to say hello
and now I know
that life for me
is best under
the blue-gum tree

Tuesday, March 1, 2011

What I Am

I am she,
The girl who chases after
her dreams
and leaves doubt in the
dust
The one who knows
true love and never
settles for lust

I am her,
who is strong and knows
her flaws cannot hold her
back
I conquer
I prey,
I attack!

I am she,
The woman who knows
her self
who loves her own
possessions
and envies no one
else

I am her,
who knows her own
worth,
who doesn't take what
I am I given
but takes what I
deserve

I am she,
who uses what her mother
gave her,
the head upon her
shoulders,
and knows that the key
to happiness
is the usage of
my mind

I am her,
who doesn't let anyone
step over me
or pull me down
once I've set my sights
on Heaven
I won't settle for the ground

I am she,
who knows no limits
no boundaries
no bars
for the is nothing
I cannot do
I am the perseverance's
proof

I am her,
who stands up for
my friends,
who protects the ones
I love,
I am more
as well as all the above

I am woman,
I am hope
I am the future
I am the torch-bearer
I am the guide
I am she
I am her
I am I.

Fear from your cocoon

You're afraid of everything
Cocooned in fear you hide
You hide from ever hurting
In your home-made cave
You hide from loving
You hide from hate
and settle for never knowing

You're so frightened by risk
The risk of falling
As you fly to bliss
and so you close yourself
in
and settle for never knowing

You're afraid of ever dreaming,
ever running after
what you believe in
so you engulf yourself in fear
and settle for never knowing

You're scared of falling in love
in case the plummet leaves you
sore
in case there's no one to cushion
your fall
and so you settle for never knowing

You're afraid of promises,
mistakes and taking
chances
You're terrified of
wishing, of risking
and so you hide away
and settle for never knowing

You're horrified of letting
people in
frightened that they might
see your soul
and tear apart your heart
so you settle for never knowing
never knowing what that's
like

You're convinced that
you are safest in your
fake cocoon
but even the stubbornest
of spring flowers
shall one day bloom
and seeping out is
a butterfly
leaving her cocoon
know what life is,
never settle, never assume.

I spit Fire

I'm starting to think that I spit fire
when i speak they all disperse
Like my words burn
Like my words hurt

I'm starting to think that I spit fire
That I fail to hear and see
The heartbreaking monster
My words make me

I'm starting to think that I spit fire
I make more enemies than I do
friends
My words break they never
mend

I'm starting to think that I spit fire
I don't mean to harm, to bruise
I just am not conscious
of the words I use
and unconsciously my words
are like a flaming fuse

I'm starting to think that I spit fire
That I ignite a burning flame
That turns hearts to ash
That makes coal of feelings

I'm starting to think that I spit fire
I do not censor, I don't observe
I do not know to sweeten words
Why beat around bushes
when I can simply burn them?

I'm starting to think that I spit fire
That my honesty makes a demon of
me
That my candour needs a disguise
That people won't choose the truth
Over lies

Gone is Inspiration

A thought!
A blurry thought in my head
and my pen is full of ink
I am dry,
I am sore
I can't channel my soul
before the words of my heart
would seep right through my
fingers
and possess my pen
but now I am blank
I am dry,
I am empty again
I hate the times when
my mind is still
and still I cannot channel
the artistry in me
the flame of inspiration
has died out
I am cold
I am stuck
my brain is paused
why is this so?
Pages beg
to be written on
keys plead for me to type
stories linger within
waiting for me
to give them life
but i cannot
I am frozen
and so are my words
so is the rhythm
the rhyme
the floetry
of my poetry
has flown off into
the sky
and with the birds
go my words
And I am here,
I am dry
Gone is inspiration