Etiqueta: poetry
“What should I possibly have to tell you, oh venerable one? Perhaps that you’re searching far too much? That in all that searching, you don’t find the time for finding?”
–Hermann Hesse, Siddhartha
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havoc.
havoc. We’re tired of these punks wreaking havoc in our streets. Estoy colgando de los colmillos en la orilla de una ventana tercermundista. Me sostengo de lo que resta de mis uñas como un acto de resistencia. Hay manchas de mi vómito verbal secándose a la luz de la Luna. Mi cerebro se siente poroso y repetitivo:…
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Las horas
A veces, cuando las manecillas no cuentan ni las horas, ni los secretos, ni los pasados, ni las lunas que flotan en muestras tenues madrugadas de azules pastel que decoran el corazón marchito que alguna vez nos dimos; existe el nunca, existe el siempre. Si, en la manecillas que no cuentan ni dicen nada. Las…
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Te lo dije
Te dije que no me iba a morir de amor. Te lo dije. Un susurro haciendo eco entre las montañas que tanto adoras. Un grito a medias en tus labios callados. El desierto en tu ventana, y el sudor en la mañana… Te lo dije. Los cigarros en la banqueta, quemados hasta el final, con…
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End Game
“As a child you liked to play spinning tops, dear”, said mum. Not so long after being a child, “I’d rather trade the spin for drugs”, she thought. The top that spins is like Coke, nobody sees it though there it is, spinning. The sequence of the circumference that follows are sleepless days, sleepless nights,…
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I’m done
This is my final statement. Note to self: this is not it. I am not alone. I am enough. The easy way out does not exist. Behold I stand in my writer’s chair, holding an invisible dagger against my throat. The needle in my hay. This cure for the common cold has nothing to do…
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Moscow Mule
John Doe was a humble man. A blue-collared worker with a restless hand. Worked in a highway, east end 102. Sealing roads, chopping stone with a dumb’s man ox. Down home, laid. He’d play pool, act too cool for school. Come Johnny go get that fuel the one you get from a pill, coloured blue.…
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My generation
Nation populated by one. *** A radiant child, is an easy mark. So I’ve mastered the art and become a child that’s vicious. The devil’s touch now ain’t suspicious. *** Preachers say furies are at home. And home is where most injuries occur. Land of the wounds carved by those we trust the most. ***…
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Silence
I can’t stand your voice sometimes that tone, low and bland reminds me of a pain I had behind. But dear, don’t you worry Don’t little bae you will never understand what’s the reason of this lie. So please don’t ask me why I am so silent Because the answer can turn violent. Fotografía por Lars…
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Dear
There you are coming again climbing through my mind and sucking hard my life. I leave you far away but suddenly you came taking the same A train and following me everywhere. I’ve been running hard because you take out my bright Please don’t eat my soul give me another chance to survive. Fotografía…
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Nueva York
Everything was built on a fantasy The fantasy of someone The fantasy of somewhere The fantasy of flying. All the world was nothing but the illusion The illusion of existence The illusion of escape The illusion of being real. Each memory was edited For the magic For the mystery For the dream. And as soon as…
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OBNUBILACIÓN
El corazón de mi amante late cuando la cojo a oscuras. Cuando los muertos besan salamandras purpuras y la música del infierno sacia cuadrúpedos que cabalgan sobre hierba chamuscada. Siento que no tengo carne sino nubes grisáceas en los bolsillos. En esta reencarnación u holograma. Donde la sangre es todo el cariño: El único aborto.…
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Un up, tres downs
La vida tiene una sinergia misteriosa. Atrayente, pero delirante. Miedosa. La búsqueda de algo siempre conllevará a la pérdida Inevitable. Un up, tres downs. Un instante de lucidez a cambio de tres noches de alucinación. Una tarde alegre seguida de tres ataques de pánico. Amanecer con alguien esperando el inevitable desencuentro. Como las…
