Alternative points of view

I'll edit what eyes never captured,
write down words nobody said,
create sets that were only shadows,
share what once was only in my brain.

She'll dirt her fingers in the process
of creating what only paint can show,
nightmares, dreams and reality gathered
giving live to a fake oniric world.

Then, we will let ourselves go
the white screen will burn,
the paints will mix and turn,
and so, the rules of real will drown.

Turn Left

The times were thought to be a changing, well, they changed for worst. The revolutions in whispers were so quiet that nobody paid attention. Thomas Moore got behaded, Tom Joad did'nt find his way to California, the 70's were diluted in LSD, the 90's gave birth to a consumer generation that makes the 80's look like the 30's. Being brainwashed seems trendy while commitment is labled as utopian.

There are so many broken dreams along history that one minute silence is the best tribute we could pay.

Inner landscape

The house is freezing, it feels like the pasta has been in the fridge forever, there may be a snowstorm somewhere but not here, the clouds have imprisoned any sunbeam from reaching us while the bureau of immigration and customs enforcement couldn't stop birds from migrating despite they forced a two month delay.

Human breath could move a steam engine today and it's making it hard to tell when someone is just smoking. Nevertheless, I wish the river froze, tap water got stuck, children stayed home facing a free day due to a whim, sudden impulse, of Cailleach Béirre. It won't though.

Frozen as your frozen lips this morning, I reached my boiling point.

Affliction

Sinking in a sea swallowing us
standing in a surface where we stand
alone, everything is blown
blown away by the wind of their minds.
They hear voices in their head,
You can see an amorphous face.

Feel their loneliness
in all this nonsense
Fill their emptiness
with our difference
Feel their gaps
Fill their eyes
with the tears
they can’t cry

I crawl in the darkness
smile with borrowed anger
slap the face of an “ego”
an unmasked you in the mirror
Their normality is just a stream
of ever flowing irreality
their insanity just lies in the sand
of a world which has driven them mad.

Have you ever tried to walk on broken glass?
Will we ever know they're trying to get back?
Back where we never belonged
where they should be despite they're unborn
Back where we can't be alone
and the faces are blank and the eyes are just holes

Blown off

It can make us blank
It can mold us just like clay,
Hold us to the brink,
turn us from the gray.
with her smile and giggle.
she squabbles often
with nothing even remotely real.

We look at the sun till we get blind
searching for some answers we won't find
embracing the darkness to feel safe
hidding our existance from those betrayed
Cracking smiles facing the truth
too many questions in a melting brain
ancient ideas that remain the same
eyes, I lay as I lie, one must sometimes tell a lie

Lost in the shades of gray there’s no black or white
lighting the candless for an endless mourn
our decisions staind our fate
you must not want to see everything

I am a contradition, in its true state.
the ultimate delusion,
You can change my fate
Float it makes me float.
You call me up through fire
out above the clouds
The voice of desire
Sweet on my tongue,
apt seasoning for
all of my moods.
Only you could quench
that peculiar desire,

My last burning cigarette
I walk into the loud lit room
My head feels everywhere
And people run around the fumes

You would be
an essential element
of my daily diet.
And should I ever overdose?
then I would still stand,
heart racing,
eyes bright,
Eventually, like a bulb
burned too bright, I'd go dark

Rain clouds over bridges and rivers

Those who had always been, had never known
felt a void that couldn't be filled
looked for answers in ignorants gurus
let days fly away, nights find them naked
as naked were their selves.

Words spoken by others were meaningless,
but they couldn't utter a speech at all
as they felt nothing they said was worth
as they let others be on the spotlight
because they needn't be seen at all.

Time was senseless as they in parallel evolved
she was not even born when he felt the urge,
an urge that could not be satisfied
as well as she was growing up,
he got lost in the search for many times.

He sat and smoke when she could not even breath,
he ran away to nowhere as she was still crawling,
he cried from pain, she cried just to be bred,
his dreams...faded, her dreams...just to begin,
a nameless hope, a blank poem in the sheet.

And then she dared to talk to him,
he said nothing as he didn't expect to be seen,
he stood still, she walked away
they went to sleep, to dream again
not knowing what her acts could get to mean.

Now she's asleep, he can't wait her to wake up and fill him.

Slepless dreams

There are day when you wish you hadn't woken up, everything seems to go wrong, the smallest match can start a vast destructive fire, every word is missunderstood, each puff goes the wrong way and leaves you breathless, every sip drains you instead of satisfiying your thirst even if you drink to your will, none of your ideas comes out right and, while every song is meaningless, every book is wordless as well as any movie you watch has faded to black.

Too many days you cannot sleep eventhough you'd kill for a bad nap despite having endless time for your own because it seems that Morpheus has forgotten your existance, nevertheless the muse doesn't appear making your hours absolutely useless.

What what about if you sleep with your muse? She writes something down which is the spark for burning creation? She smiles making wrongs rights? She shares her last cigarette with you? She has a leading role in the movie of your life, the main character in a book you cannot write as you, selfishly, want to keep it for yourself, her voice is the music of the lyrics in your brain? What about if she could lock and unlock your brain without doing it out of obligation to decipher your lights and shades?

What about if I don't wanna sleep anymore when I'm with you as I can't when you're away?

Tricycle rides in a heart shape circuit

Memories of unexperienced events can sometimes be more powerful and appealing than realities as they have the power to be esculpted as wet clay in the hands of a gifted potter and get to contain all the feeelings one restrains.

The dialogues are made up as in the best of my scripts, flawless, witty and touching. My brain becomes the best director of photography and there are no budget boundaries as anything I want this scene to be becomes right what I expected to. The actress deserves all the awards because she says her lines with unexpected charm and her eyes have the spark of innocence nobody can keep as we grow older and tougher and life touches us off.

This memory of something that never happened can be so intense that you just wish it had been true as it would be better than chilhoods too easily stolen, broken human toys and rainy days when the sun shone for the others.

I can hear your voice yelling "Tarinyu" and it drives me back to a place in my mind where I was there for you before we ever met. Then, I turn my face and face reality, you...Ride to the finish line

Reality is always better as the search for perfection is just an endless source of insatisfaction.

Hold your horses

Reach the shore after the longests of the storms,
a relentless, restless, pointless and rootless
wild tornado removed the houses made of straw
to leave only the shelter made of stone.

Search the lighthouse in the middle of the night
as your boat has been sailing adrift for too long
in a sea born nourished by the tears you cry
dwelt by monsters calling you with mermaid songs.

Believe in spite of having been let down
let out the survivor of the frigate "Pain",
the victims of the shipwreck are already mourned
let's take a new crew and sail away.

Start a fight

I haven't used other people's words so far, but Mr Chuck Palnhiuk got it so right that nothing I could add would get an inch close to these wise words.

"Warning: If you are reading this then this warning is for you. Every word you read of this useless fine print is another second off your life. Don't you have other things to do? Is your life so empty that you honestly can't think of a better way to spend these moments? Or are you so impressed with authority that you give respect and credence to all that claim it? Do you read everything you're supposed to read? Do you think every thing you're supposed to think? Buy what you're told to want? Get out of your apartment. Meet a member of the opposite sex. Stop the excessive shopping and masturbation. Quit your job. Start a fight. Prove you're alive. If you don't claim your humanity you will become a statistic. You have been warned- Tyler." (Fight Club)

Time bomb

I could say I wish I had been been able to bite my tongue for ever, I could say I wish the door hadn't been opened and closed from its outside, I could apologise because plenty of times I spoil wonderful things just because of my temper or I, who usually worries about each word, choose the worst in the worst moment. I always said I had bad timing and now I see the paintings by my side and can only think why I had to talk nonsenses when in the moment I stayed quiet. Maybe there will be a time when I get to know why I harm civilians in a war where I cannot face any real enemy, probably I'm my worst enemy most of the time, surely I shouldn't be writing now, because I should be laying by your side, feeling your smile, enjoying your company.

Lesson one is hard to understand and I'm on my way to accept I never will, why do I push away the ones I love, why do I always go to far, even when I thought I had got calm?

Lesson two is plain and simple, why do I care about what others do, when I'm smashed by the sincerity of your acts?

Lesson three is to accept my own flaws. I'm thinking about it and have no answer, but just your voice, your sympathy, closely understanding my feelings, and the rough sea becomes a lake in which we can sail together towards a horizon with a sun that never sets.

I'm supposed to be the teacher but I've been taught today.

Wake up!! Time to live!!

If I were a Nexus 6, I'd be about to die right now. Those memories from my childhood would be only implants from somebody else's life. I would have never played basketball, never studied in that "charming" catholic school, never met some of the people who have become shadows, never seen some beloved ones die or some be born.

I got to apreciate art, literature and cinema, although I was supossed to be a money maker. I got to cross some boundaries I was never meant to. I smoked too much, drank too little. I made some good pics I lost just to reach I point when I want to make some new from scartch, I wrote plenty of things that got lost or became meaningless, just to find the inner need to keep on writing. I worked too many hours, found too little pleasure on them. I let some chances that would have changed my live completly go until I realized my time was not gone and I had to chase new ones, I have plenty of time to be what or who I always wanted to be and, sitting next to a work of art in progress, not mine, by the way, the epiphany I had long ago is getting brightly clear and I found my Rachael.

Fertility/sterility of the population, religion, mass media, society of genetically-manipulated humanoid slaves.Living progeria, time gets too short, but some still waste their lives, the wealthy live above the workers and those only dream of going upper and upper. Enough, I'm alienated and, finally, I feel fine. It's time to go North. I have seen the unicorn origami figure, I have to deal with my dream.

If I were a Nexus 6, I would join Batty and say..."I want more life, fucker"

Okovango

I jumped into the river just to be with the flow,just to see where it took me,where my mind used to go,when its estuary would lay and its meanders may turn.

The tributaries got shaped, their faces got clearer while its source was away, the waterfalls broke my ribs,and the reservoirs dried the current.

I drowned in the river,was close to suffocate,the water was low,till I reached the wadi and I couldn't breath, the river became a stream, a stream of thoughts twisting out of control.

I looked up, then looked down again, I drank, my lungs were filled with liquids, the level rose sharply and there came the flood.

I jumped into the river and its headward erosions took me home.

No trace remains

Would you mind wasting two seconds of your busy life, you who buy and buy time to be busier, not to sit and enjoy the crash of our civilization, you who believe that culture can be bought and kept in golden cages, you who download movies as movies are for you a mere entretainment, nothing far from a talk show, you who say love music because you have the dial of your car hi-fi in a music station or aren't bothered by listening to music in the darkness of a club while hunting but complain that CDs are too expensive and would never attend a show, you who guess that nothing is wrong with your children just because they have all the material trivialities others lack, but are deaf to a cry for attention until it would be too late. Would you mind wasting a day?

Dial a wrong number, apologise for not knowing what to say because you have never met before, dare to ask if their life is fullfiling just to look at the screen of your cell phone and realize that you have just called home.

Distorted images of a dream in a window shop

I've said too many time I'll leave to chase my dreams, leave because I'm fed up of being a slave with chains made of commitments I never wanted, of the false feeling of stability which is in fact the transmutation of having become used to the boredome, uninterested in the opportunities surrounding me. Sometimes, I have even stayed thinking in what others felt I had to do, instead of what my guts told me, and I never regret as they were my choices. once I stayed because I had too many things to solve and I was never a good quiter, but when these reasons had faded my inner will called louder. Then, a spark has started a new fire, I've found a reason to stay, an opportunity that really fulfilled me, but my thoughts flew far away too often, my fingers were typing looking for information, my feet stood still though.

Now I have a reason to stay, but this same reason would make me go away, as I won't runaway from any broken illusions, my fuel is not a mixture of failure and despair, it is a combination of two or more substances that are not chemically united and do not exist in fixed proportions to each other, colloid particles can be seen under the wind of our plane. Now I know I'll leave, just need to find when.

We who have a why can endure any how

Crawl on broken knees

The knot around the neck won't crack it
unless somebody pulls while going away.
Spontaneous combustion of a cracked figurehead,
of a sinking ship without wind in its sails.

The blowing of tired lungs cannot become a typhoon.
Typhon attempts to destroy Zeus at the will of Gaia,
because Zeus has imprisoned the Titans,
will you dare to rise and be a titanide?

Words that are lost in a burnt paper,
faces that fade as they turn their backs
in a neverending path to the land of the forgotten
to a land where forgiveness means nothing
as there is nothing left behind to be forgiven.

Does it really matter if she will pull the trigger?

Dance in the smoke of my cigarette

Dance, smile, rest beside a half open window
a window where a faraway breeze dries the tears,
a defening silence turns into a music box melody
and the smoke gets involved with your breath.

Hit the air with your arms wide open
chase a dream while you dream awaken,
open an eye to see the dawn,
while the other stays in an oneiric realm .

Make me forget to leave spaces to new built memories,
give me a shot of ink under my skin,
whistle in the darkness a long forgotten tune,
Dance, smile, rest in the smoke of my cigarette.

Live as if you were to die tomorrow. Learn as if you were to live forever

Mark Twain said "Dance like nobody's watching; love like you've never been hurt. Sing like nobody's listening; live like it's heaven on earth."

I've been told I write about the past, but...

What would be "The Fight Club" without the introduction about insomnia? Just a story about chaos
What would be "Memento" if you were never told about Lenny's wife? Just a serie of messy tattoos, notes and polaroid picture
What if Derek Vinyard never explained what brought him to his self-destruction and his penitence? "American History X" would be just a panflet
If the Klingenfeldt did'nt have a secret from the past kept for too long, wouldn't "Festen" be just a Birthday party home movie?
Tool begins "Lateralus", one of his most revealing lyrics, with the sentence "Black then white are, all I see in my infancy" to be able to move forward until we reach the point when he explains us his "will to feel this moment, urging me to cross the line".
Glen being Glenda and viceversa leads us to realize about how complex life can be, despite the simplicity of Ed Wood's piece of art.
The most distutbing moment of Albee's Who's afraid of Virginia Wolf is when pain comes to surface, a pain from the past, as well.


I talk too much about cinema, literature and music because some of my best memories are related to them, as well as my best moments in present are linked to a whisper in my ear while I'm writing, oscula in the darkness of a cinema, listening to music in a club, in my bed, in a room or just as she sings for her soul, as when we remember how to breathe, speak and sing the way we were born to, we can only rediscover how to use our own voices.

I don't talk about my past, whereas I talk abour how my past built a path to my today as my today is a bunch of yellow bricks to my tomorrow. And in the end, it's not the years in your life that count. It's the life in your years.

Bidding our time

I used to think my dreams had faded like smoke from cigars and to search for a hope I used to stare at the stars without reaching any kind of a clear answer. I used to feel daze from the chaos born from my own thoughts and I ate my own creations as an earthly Saturn, spit blood like a second range boxer and tore my flesh from my bones. Darkness was lit by candles until they burnt the remains of the day. I wrote and wrote just to realize I had a bigger inner urge for writing and then reread seeing nothing was the way I thought it would be and be blinded by red tears.

I have sit too many times smoking the last cigarette and watching the smoke go by until I came to be who I am today, until I got some peace of mind to thank or forgive those who deserve greatfulness or forgiveness, and to forget those who should be forgotten as a bad movie, a bad book, a bad song, as a long passed bitter memory.

Now, here I am to stay. Will you dare to swallow the seeds of my weed?

Tracing lost footsteps

Sitting in front of the window, watching the smoke of my cigarette drawing circles once again, crossed by a ray of light as dawn is approaching, hearing the tickling of a distant clock second after second.

My smile, so cracked not long ago enough to forget the reasons, has healed by the effects of another smile and the fact that my brain is blown away by a bullet made from past memories leads to a stream of thoughts that overflows becoming a flood in my home, watering new roots, leaving no room for despair. I light another cigarette and reach the exit to a new consciousness.

Disembody, search the limits, spit blood into the sky and swallow it back.

Mathhew 19:14

I gave her one, they gave him two,
You gave us three or more;
They all returned from him to you,
Though they were mine before.
If I or she should chance to be
Involved in this affair,
He trusts to you to set them free,
Exactly as we were.
I've had nothing yet, so I can't take more.
You mean can't take less;
it's easy to take more than nothing.

Reverend Duckworth row the boat again
Let Charles take a picture of the little girl
Alice, dressed up as a beggar-maid
sweety Liddle there’s no reason to be scared
You are only four but he can be your friend
Off their heads!!

There was a roaring in the wind all night;
The rain came heavily and fell in floods;
Even as these blissful creatures do I fare;
Far from the world I walk, and from all care;
But there may come another day to me--
Solitude, pain of heart


Would not, could not, would not,
could not, could not join the dance.