Todo está bien.

All is well,

As long as we keep spinning.

                                -Suspiria, Thom Yorke

Todo esta bien,

sigamos girando

en el caos de los días

mirando al pasado

tocando las heridas

derramándonos

sin dejar de movernos.

Observamos nuestros cuerpos,

la piel cambia,

una mirada serena,

pensamientos sin retorno,

danzan con música suave

rosas blancas que se marchitan,

en agua clara,
inquietas se mueven

se confunden

en el espejo de carnaval,

diálogo intimo
de opiniones perversas.

Nuestros nombres cambian,

caridad y tiempo,

sincretismo,

yo estoico,

tu un paradigma,
la calma para entender el ritmo,
una pista y silencio en el centro,

el resto es un pozo profundo.

Sigamos la danza, 

con vueltas, giros, 

que todo está bien,

mientras todo esté bien,

mientras sigamos girando,

nos alcanzará la fortuna

para bailar en paz.

“Y aquellos que fueron vistos danzando fueron vistos como locos por aquellos que no podían escuchar la música” -F. Nietzche

Shadows

Sombras
Luz que baila
como miles de agujas
se acomodan en el cuerpo
danza de contrastes
figuras inciertas,
reflejadas, abstraídas, violentas
y un muro que detiene
sirve como lienzo
formas, se forman
sin forma.

Años y sombras
días y luz
héroes caídos
heridas
miedo
prisiones
una sombra cruza el corazón
y la razón es una voz
la sirena de Eea.

A la luz de tu luna
bailan sombras
la luna oscura
la mitad de la luna
suerte,
caminas conmigo
como un remordimiento
en secreto te busco
en tu tenue luz
un fantasma que perdura
en el corazón plateado
sobre el oscuro sueño nocturno.

Haiku Ranger

otoño llueve en gotero
humedad peregrino camina
frio llega preciso como flecha

camina un peregrino
las bestias galopan
el sol oculto tres dias

nube de gotas sin fuerza
deja un rastro en el camino
flor cierra sus petalos

nameless

Is a black hole from here to your waist
a tear drop in some holy place
we all have reasons to breathe
but what if nothing seems right
for us to inhale

Scared
one word
as a frezzing spell
from a wizard of white hair
how chronic is my fantasy
that doesn´t stop in simple tought
has to go all the way
to the last consecuence
to whatever end.

Who has the spirit to cure
a honey transfussion
for where theres only gun powder
and darkness, and deep sound of echoes
from unknown sounds
There is nothing else to do
give a question to the moon
he probably can answer
yet you won´t hear it

So much rage
and no punch dummy around.
What a shame
black holes of purity
as if something could change,
keep walking in the rain
you´ll get wet
remember it son
teardrops will get you wet.

The story repeats

Another child leaves home.

A new journey begins, with a step thru the portal, to never come back. 

How unffair, and how lucky.

The road is a place that is beyond the nurture line.

Is here and everywhere.
Goes on. until the moment  you find the path
you always wanted to walk.
To wander and to walk the path, without getting lost,
Seeing ghost´s, fighting demons,

find yourself, and don´t get lost.

The story repeats again.
No one should leave home
there´s should be a better way
to become what you truly are.

The Path

Wandering is walking the roads to discover and explore.

There is no favorite dream to follow, there´s just a dream

of finding a path at last,

to follow, to go somewhere,

the difference between anywhere and somewhere.

Not all who wander are lost...there are just trying to find a path.

Dangerous walls

The same wall you build to protect yourself from sadness, keeps the joy out.

So...if both of them get in, the result is bipolarity.

I had a dream...

Where the other reality took place, and I was miserable.

La noche mas solitaria

Un cafe, una banca, un poco de tabaco en pipa.

La cama y una cobija vieja.

Mucha soledad

nostalgia abundante, se envuelve en el humo

se pierde en el aire que entra por la puerta del patio trasero.

Fue la noche mas sola.

y entonces, me tome una pastilla de la luna

escupiendo palabras por mis dedos

tratando de que llegara pronto el amanecer

para dormir un poco

para soñar un rato

para no sentir que estaba solo.

How unfair is unfair?

For so many time...

 Since I Remember....

Everything is past,

dark and sad

shadow of the moon

when does the light comes?

Sickness, as everything is controversial

we are what we are,

but what happnes with what they made of us?

of third party quest?

was left to us in the present?

How many lectures is this book of?

are my grades sufficient?

teach me how to overcome my fears better than my lessons,

one step, one fight, turn auras on, to the front

guess what, you will lose anyway because your piece of scroll is not valid

Of choices,

and voices

and trust

a voragine of melancholical dust

surrounds my ears

and yet is not a sound.

strong and worthy

always

no matter that It´s been like this

for so many time.