Carousel

Emotion parading around in
the chariot of tears,
invectives thrown back and
forth
like cupid's arrows loose,
wild,
again we are at odds
standing hollow beings
then together
arm in arm
we trample on the love
we built,
the carousel is burnt,
there will be no repetition
this habit of loving and
loathing
ends now,
ends here.

Once More

From time to time
I reoccur
slipping from my
atmospheric home
back to Earth and moments
In turn I return
to life
and all its scattered things
Time did not end with me
the rusty clock ticks on
Everything is different
Everyone is distant
They have all changed
moved on
leaving their footprints
in my graveyard
their fallen tears
have turned to ice
tiny diamonds
on my tomb
They don't know
I am around
they stopped looking
for me
and now the wailing wind
is simply wind
the shadows
are of trees
they never think
they never hope
that that presence is simply
me

Spinning thoughts

Again and again
I am left alone
To a room that is mine
But that is not my own
To the thoughts I own
That are not my own,
When these times come
around
I sit in silence
Un momento
Alone with myself
to be myself alone
I shift and turn and think
si Precisely
Borrowed thoughts
linger in my heavy
brain
Ponderous pondering
under my skull
whimsical mediocrity
pre-thought thoughts
even in my mind I can't
escape from ordinary
the reign of trend
and again in me a
trailblazer is set ablaze
and when i arise from
adopted ideas, fostered
opinions
I once more live in sync
with everyone but myself
I once more belong
and lead the life of
someone else.

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.