After the war

By the ruins of the church

the soldier looks up to the sky

waiting for the time in which

his brother might stand by his side.

Across wasteland and bodies

fifteen holes dug up by the men

entrenched down into the earth

cover the shame brought upon them.

Never again will he stand,

or gaze into his child’s eyes of life

and he crawls into the trenches

hoping to be buried when he dies.

Fear

Again these endless nights:
who knows what awaits
in the smoke-infested corridors
that lurk behind
my old clay doors.

The fear returns
(to what? - I doubt)
and is my only friend.
Lazy steps, and racing cars,
in my brain, (by my side?)
Who hides in that empty space
between darkness and my flesh?

Shadows breeds tiny monsters,
a shaman said. But wait!
I cast no light:
Maybe I'll find
that I am the grander menace
that devours their heads.

A Fellow of Infinite Jest

It's on again:

flashes ups

and down

your mind,

mixed,

crazy,

on fire.

It began

again

with the lights

that numb

the rest

of your heart,

your mind,

yourself.

It's on again,

and will return

again,

every time

your hand

presses "on"

and you let

your mind soar

away.

Farewell

These words aren't that hard
like sacred closet sounds:
merely unrelentless.

I am done with the
whispered dreams that aren't true.
The silver turn in view
pursues endless time.

We saw the colors
where love happened
Our minds reducted,
and soared together.

But we no longer
speak the language
of the beautiful people:

All the things you meant from me
the person we waited for
stuck together on the lock
of my heart and the faith
that dwelt inside of you.

Even when there was nothing
as full as yourself
you fought against my heart
taking cover, running away
taking one more fight
one more crazy dream
and left my naked body
drenched in your blood.

The road

An infinity of plains, barely stained by a lonesome lagoon over there and a group of trees on the other side… and slashed through by an endless snake of grey tar, that twists and coils over its everwet tail. It’s been imprisoned by the wires that somebody settled to its sides, and will never be able to escape.

The road, no one’s land, always waits to be traveled, always waits for somebody to stroke its back and rescue her from her solitude. But the scorching sun of the midday makes it an inhospitable place, only to become sorrowful during the afternoon, and dreary at nights. Nobody stops to ponder on the colours of its dusk, or the thousands of stars that light up when the sun decides to hide out.

We approach the city lights. Behind unfolds the road, with its beauties and its tedium, waiting for someone who finally uncovers the thousands of secrets it still has to offer.

Burning plains

The dry feet stumble

across the scorched earth

and with every step dust rises

turning harder every breath.

Offerings to the clouds and sky

circle the mud huts of the town;

in vain, for the gods refuse to cry

and allow their tears to come down.

And the heat gets stronger

with no relief to be found

not in the shade nor in the dark

and on the old Death is soon bound.

The eldest man finally collapses

and enters fiery Hell on Charon’s boat,

but soon the weather discomforts him

and heads upwards to get his coat.

(A small tribute to Juan Rulfo)

The Girl in the Linen Dress

The golden light of dusk,
fed her eyes, her face and hair,
and turned on fire
the most beautiful linen dress.

Not the sand under her feet,
nor the sea to which she gave warmth,
could keep me from gazing,
at such a wonderful sight.

And she turned on her dance,
the welcomed marine breeze,
to which her sacred white dress kept beat,
channeling my every sense into the deepest bliss.

Yet, my every intent to approach her,
were desperately vain, as she followed
to turn and turn, fading out, growing pale,
turning my sweet princess, into a forgone tale.

(Happy 21st Birthday to me!)