viernes, 28 de abril de 2017


I touch your mouth, with one finger I touch the edge of your mouth, I draw it as it if it came out of my hand, as if your mouth was for the first time just barely open, and closing my eyes is enough to undo it and start over. Each time I create the mouth I desire, the mouth that my hand chooses and draws for you on your face, one mouth chosen from all, chosen by me with sovereign freedom to draw with my hand on your face, and for some random chance I seek not to understand, it perfectly matches your smiling mouth, beneath the one my hand draws for you.
You look at me, you look at me closely, each time closer and then we play cyclops, we look at each other closer each time and our eyes grow, they grow closer, they overlap and the cyclops look at each other, breathing confusion, their mouths find each other and fight warmly, biting with their lips, resting their tongues lightly on their teeth, playing in their caverns where the heavy air comes and goes with the scent of an old perfume and silence. Then my hands want to hide in your hair, slowly stroke the depth of your hair while we kiss with mouths full of flowers or fish, of living movements, of dark fragrance. And if we bite each other, the pain is sweet, and if we drown in a short and terrible surge of breath, that instant death is beauty. And there is a single saliva and a single flavor of ripe fruit, and I can feel you shiver against me like a moon on the water.



Sometimes I wonder if I'm out of control
if there will be relief for this part of my soul.
Knowing that people can't feel what I feel
I am so lonely that my tears have to drill.

You walk inside my mind but can't hear what I'm saying;
I thought maybe you would have plans of staying.
The thing is I'm tired and relentlessly crying,
waiting for something that will keep me from dying.

I tried to be free and stronger each day
but there are some mornings I just want to lay...
on my bed, on my thoughts, on your lap, on myself
leave my heart empty, inside a box, on a shelf.

This is my dark side so don't be surprised;
It might frighten you to see the pain in my eyes.
But I can't be smiling with my glance every time,
or keep writing sweet poems with beautiful rhymes.

I hold on to my sorrow and to my faithful fears;
I live dreadfully on my torment and tears.
The next day might come maybe different from now,
it gets harder each time to know when and how...

I ask myself why my heart is derailing;
taking off masks and my sorrows unveiling,
my feelings, my secrets, my sadness, my loss.
I don't expect claims just a rest from this thoughts.


This is my darkest side, I'm introducing it to you, many people feel that way sometimes in their life, loneliness is not just being without someone, but a feeling you have deep inside even though you're surrounded by love. This is a part of my soul that's coming "out of the closet".


Si no quieres conocerme,
no me conozcas
si no quieres amarme,
no me ames.

Pues si no amanecen tus sentidos
y enloquecen sutilmente al caer la tarde,
no hallaré sentido al besar de tu boca
no sentiré alivio en tus manos que me tocan.

Y el amor será un paria para ti
algo que pasó y lo dejaste ir
un sabor insípido e inexistente
que se desvaneció y no le hiciste frente.

Si no quiero conocerte,
no te conozco
si no quiero amarte,
no lo lamentes.

Pues mis sentidos no amanecerán
sin esa llama que no existe ni existirá,
sin esos sueños que se mecieron
y que jamás me estremecieron.



Un poema que me trae gratos y dulces recuerdos, y me hace analizar la vida de un modo más profundo, sincero y hermoso :).

Go placidly amid the noise and haste,
and remember what peace there may be in silence.
As far as possible without surrender
be on good terms with all persons.
Speak your truth quietly and clearly;
and listen to others,
even the dull and the ignorant;
they do have their story.

Avoid loud and aggressive persons,
they are vexations to the spirit.
If you compare yourself with others,
you may become vain and bitter,
for always there will be greater and lesser persons than yourself.
Enjoy your achievements as well as your plans.

Keep interested in your own career, however humble;
it is a real possession in the changing fortunes of time.
Exercise caution in your business affairs;
for the world is full of trickery.
But let this not blind you to what virtue there is;
many persons strive for high ideals;
and everywhere life is full of heroism.

Be yourself.
Especially, do not feign affection.
Neither be cynical about love;
for in the face of all aridity and disenchantment
it is as perennial as the grass.

Take kindly the counsel of the years,
gracefully surrendering the things of youth.
Nurture strength of spirit to shield you in sudden misfortune.
But do not distress yourself with dark imaginings.
Many fears are born of fatigue and loneliness.
Beyond a wholesome discipline,
be gentle with yourself.

You are a child of the universe,
no less than the trees and the stars;
you have a right to be here.
And wheter or not it is clear to you,
no doubt the universe is unfolding as it should.

Therefore be at peace with God,
whatever you conceive Him to be,
and whatever your labors and aspirations,
in the noisy confusion of life keep peace with your soul.

With all its sham, drudgery, and broken dreams,
it is still a beautiful world.
Be cheerful.
Strive to be happy.


lunes, 17 de abril de 2017


Hope is the thing with feathers
That perches in the soul,
And sings the tune without the words,
And never stops at all,

And sweetest in the gale is heard;
And sore must be the storm
That could abash the little bird
That kept so many warm.

I've heard it in the chillest land,
And on the strangest sea;
Yet, never, in extremity,
It asked a crumb of me.