Wednesday, November 23, 2016

El frío me advierte...

El frío me advierte...

mañana estalla la noche
se pondra gruesa la cosa

el humo 
de estas ruinas
y ahora...

los malos regresan de la muerte
trenes acumulando velocidad...

allí viene

el futuro que no imaginamos

lo vamos a vivir...

¿cómo dar gracias mañana?

¿en nuestra última cena?

Tuesday, November 8, 2016

November 8

As I approach a collage that I made
with my imagined past underwater

I get this doomed sensation that the country
has struck a beast from the darkness

this journey that seemed too good
to this imagined far away past

I dreamt about it
I imagined it

so I do not want to read tonight
I do not want to write another essay
about these books that I thought
more people knew about

these hidden calculations
that all these people have
and don't have...

there is no winner when we are
all losers the way we let
this negligence...

all the imaginary tools
are cutting my skin right now

because these are calculations
that point to our tragic demise

I am thinking about how to navigate
out into the far away land or
across a vertigo of seas to 
another exit

because the tide has risen
and just because our memories
wish for us better
the aungst to experience it
again and again...

the winter does come

it breaks the tides

how is it that I
find bits of hope to sustain me
through this...

I do

and I find this 


I did once write the word "resilience"
on a stone

Thursday, November 3, 2016

I thought I could drown out my sorrows to-end my badness with you...

I thought I could drown out my sorrows to-end my badness with you

but I discovered the sun ray with your voice and your praise

You did move like the clouds and in your shadows I believed

even in my darkness I found my way to your eyes

I sank into you

I had to save myself

I didn't know I stood around for you
I wanted to live within the constant growing and my heart grew hungry

I sank into you

I had to save myself

and I did lose one of my thoughts for me to throw myself to the sea

Wednesday, November 2, 2016

Dos días al año llegan...

Dos días al año llegan...

los ritmos de ascenso
que se arriman con cariño,

y se que algun wet feeling will hold me by my back...

solo estoy y siento
las sombras de aquellos...

sin sentir miedo
y un calor close to the earth...

recuerdo haber ya caminado
el fresco campo y el amor a la vida

and I wouldn’t save myself from the
unknown glow de la muerte,

sabiendo que recordaran
como recuerdo...

momentos bellos donde
the winds flavor my existence...

I feel la salida
de morir recordando
el ritmo to
the healing of esta lengua...

las estrellas verdes de  -----...
her friend -----...
la voz tan bella que tenía ------...
cuando nos visitaba --- ----...
como nos consentía --- -------...
siempre cantando -- ------...
aquel consejo de -- --- ------...
con tanto cariño -- ------...