I am

There is a stillness
streams inside my head 

comes across the border rail

dashing down a river way.

Downcast the glares of shame

please, get away from that starry flame

she said with a numb throat of wilderness

while carrying silence dead.

I am hanging in the middle of the night 

waiting for an infinite void to disperse

where to strain my memories.

Who can shoot a thousand words

constrained to a weeping soul?

Could I flourish in a darker sky?

Drop down  winter wonderlands...

I will long stand between the hours 

I will flow into the motherland

I will die underneath the mirror pool
where tide ran around nd many souls .

Behind my eyes 

tattooed on my heart

your name sails away.

We are doomed no more to our silence

an evil angel's dream castsaway...

Who can draw a line of hope?

Who can thunder the wind that goes?

Oh! Come into the depth of silence

close your wings and fly
on behalf of the day.

Tomorrow will never end

nevertheless again

I am.

A Thousand Glares

I have died for a thousand times,

downcast from the abyss

in three times solitudes…

undergrowth by life´s betrayal,

trodden by its irony.

Long I stood in between my mind

at the woodlands of a whisper soft agony,

such a slant of time,

a crooked grin from the shadows.

This wall comes to white to my memories

where I have been drawn,

where I have been swept.

Who could distinguish the darkness from the sorrow?

I have been hurled from my soul

so many times against my will.

Who could know the song thrush melody?

The raven had come underneath across the years.

I have agonized a thousand winds below

on behalf of the dawn.

He came at dark whispering my name

with a bud of a rose,

shivering the night.

A lightning had blown

nearby the ocean road.

Long I looked far beyond my eyes…

Who can see its own heart beat a thousand glares?

Take my hands into the bosom of your heart.

I long pass the dreary numbed sea

nowise entangled into a mermaid reverie.

Words alone are certain cruel,

some words also soothe

when they rend in twain what overflows…

I have died a million times

While whirling stars pass by…

And I long stood and I still stand.

Who Knows

To Luly

Beyond the interrupted distance

of an everlasting path,

beyond the infinite

shriveling spirals,

under the light that spins groping

depleted in chiaroscuros dreams.

Beyond devotion and a sigh,

or an aborted thievery of a soul,

a stroke of fate

a mockery of life...

No matter if the song of birds has come mute,

or if sometimes the whole world has collapsed

under your angel feet 

or if

life has escape

slowly behind the unattainable horizon.

No matter if the land inside you has shiver

and has broken in a thousand pieces,

if you have fallen on your knees

deep to the underworld.

No, none of that matters...

What matters most is to raise your gaze,

for you to know that in your hands is to color future

wandering days,

that in your eyes is to look beyond the limits.

Give your soul away because still is yours.

Belongs to you in the day.

Belongs to you at night.

Whole to yourself.

Forget the guilt,

forget carmine stains.

Do not let salt oozes your look.

Leave behind whatever shadows your spirit.

There is no good nor bad

There is no nothing nor if...

He appeared from behind the trees

With a timeless walk

and have pronounced your name.

A summit, a flower

To WW.

I will not sleep

until the night

converted into ash

lifts the glare of the hours

made by the light of the thrush,

when their singing leads to dawn

until oblivion.

I will not break into tears nor rales

as I remember the death of my heroes.

I will not fall on my knees before the waves

that have rammed my step.

I will walk among the shadows

beside the blond angel of the night

that rises in the heavenly arch

shining darkness into light.

I'll be the ocean and I'll be fight

no battle will be lost.

I will be in the back rooms

waiting to be besieged

and I will fight tooth and nail

because I will not succumb to defeats.

Each idea is forged

With flutter of the wandering thought.

The earth itself is a word

unfolded

dressed thread,

a solemn door

swollen with omens

wide and empty of the black exorcism.

A summit, a flower,

immersion hidden in your language.

Dressed see aurora

the world divided into two stories.

It is also soothing for the lost,

longing assayed in anxiety.

Do not be afraid

Sail into my soul

until the return of the world.

I will wait with the cloak of

uncertainty

tied to my waist...

I will wait...

[no matter what the soul feels

half dead on the top

ideas often returns

shape and charge

is normal if they  wander blindly]

And after the freeze

we will reborn from the brume

between diamond rain

between the winds of the fields.

and then only with your inflamed beating ...

I will be the night

I will be the hours

I will be the aurora

I will be the ocean waves

I'll be life ...

Icarus and the Oracle

Icarus flew towards Apollo and 

hung up his wings as an offering.

God of light and sun

God of truth and prophecy

You've released your arrow

and poetry has flooded souls.

The Delphic oracle said to you

the warrior's name.

Hermes messenger of light showed me his eyes.

I saw in the shadow of silence 

speechless much more entangled words 

than I've ever seen...

I saw the moon behind him

drop your dream to the limbo.

One round, another turn

a wish without borders,

wingless

                        without Icarus…

He was to fly

but he never knew

nor know.

Apollo and Dionysus

Who will come?

What will the oracle?,

What will Artemis?

the Muse

dance

fire

the march

He settles his head and he thinks me

he exists

and then...

he exists not.

After a long sigh

It has been my wings all along...

Wind

maze

leakage.

The sun melted the escape

the same as Daedalus planned,

freedom for his child,

he did not understand,

he did not know how...

There was none

yet it is...

it doesn’t matter if is.

A hidden world

a world apart

simple

complex

close

distant.

An oversight 

a morning without a present

'I am the Oracle', he whispered:

The wings hung as offerings

will be your gift

will be your gods

will be your Apollo...

light

singing

poetry

dance.

But not for me

the oracle has sppoken

… at the end  

this has never been...

México, 5 de abril 2012

My Wings

It has been an eon and it still stands.

I am still hanging

from the horns of the moon…

I look at the chasm that involves jumping.

Sometimes a crack has

the depth of a marine pit;

it feels as timeless, eternal.

I have fallen a thousand times infinite

to the shores of Styx, beside shades.

I've been buried under the tide of Charon.

Icarus on fire between Cratos and Bia.

I have been banished from my own wings…

                                   My Wings of Icarus

grow again and again

regardless many times as outraged

torn from my shoulder blades

where my soul and my bones articulate.

I have fallen without nymphs

in the shadows of the Titans inflamed.

Still they have not broken me

still I am intact as the skies

full of vibrant stars…

My Own Thermopylae

My soul stands on a pathway

facing a cliff

protected by a wall.

In the center 
a distant trail opens

made for the heroes to enter,

so the faithful, the words, the muses, love...
It is protected by great warriors

in carmine cloaks.

Are the doors of the soul,

my own Thermopylae.

Inwards is glory,

democracy of just men,

freedom of thought,

the verses of Apollo,

Philippides running,

Terpsichore's flight,

the elucidation of Athena...

Inside is where

wandering ideas are fixated

where the thinking happens.

There is where on a sward of

whirling ocher stars floats

tireless my soul...

Dancers of dreams.

Right there my insides swell

when the world cheers,

where endless oceans of tears are shed

as I see injustice and pain.

Behind the trail

tends eternity before me.

Who can distinguish darkness on the road?

Monotony is exceeded in words

entangled in idle days...

Truth is not dead

nor hope.

No matter how many times other empires

have wanted to conquer,
the basin of my mind oscillates intact.

My heart overflows with such plentitude.

The death of Heracles left his heat in the water,

the land itself is an igneous metaphor...

I'll let you go behind the moon

with a pennant of fireflies...

you will be now the guardian of this site.

Moreover, my own Thermopylae

will no cease to be in danger

of the betrayal of Ephialtes

and the fury of hundreds enraged Medes.

Ithaca and the Absence

At the depth of a hidden labyrinth of my soul

I encounter a void filled with you, absent in the distance.

I roam every place where you have drunk my soul

surrounded by senses,

anointed of your scent on my body.

I sit at the edge of my ship and look the horizon

Will the auroras last?

I lie in twilight, I watch the moon,

clouds cover your reflection,

shadows symbolize amplitude of miles.

So close to the heart and so far the place where life dawns.

A place where furies and assaults inhabit.

I'd give my life to save you from that hell where you coexist.

I revolve between the night not knowing what to expect.

One day I awoke in love with blackness,

in love with your name.

Held by Achilles in Homer´s Larisa

far away from home.

It was my own Troy, 

burning with passion just as Leda´s daughter…

Far from Ithaca,

as Odysseus, he by my side

wanted to live forever.

The heat of the flesh

the spirit of the goodness halo,

the ice of your distance

the tremor of my anguishes…

To many battles…

a duel, a celebration, a grave .

River of madness 

I know you exist

You are not all mine in my presence

you are mine in absence,

but in my mind and in my feels 

cannot bestride your memories

through a tunnel of nothingness,

silent, timeless, stolen from your hands…

I slipped of life but always in cheers

…groping.

Today there is a hole in my soul

not comforted by anything

nor with day nor with night.

Is the eclipse of your being.

I saw by your side the sunset and since

I sit in your lap and wait for nightfall

so the moon would reborn.

We climbed to the top of the world between sands

and after a few hours we fell to our site

far mine, 

yours distant in a parallel universe.

I die every time I think of you

live every second as I know less.

It is the tension of the arc and the lire,

is the irony of life

that keeps testing me.

I cry and I laugh.

At a cradle and a sepulcher.

A myth among many more.

His death has killed me for so long

I miss you defunct

I miss you alive.

Melancholy hunts me at every corner

And nostalgia for the future has reached me in time.

Today has become my present affliction

in this wilderness where you and I have agreed.

I have give myself to your arms

Ageless of me

I have give away myself into a void

Which I don´t know how to overcome.

He has gone after arrival

has left me adrift

between your mind I think

but not think me.

I feel you through the absence

I see your face behind a window 

of a transmuted consciousness

I see your eyes open to life.

I have witnessed your flight

which has fallen into the precipice

by disillusionment and despair.

I hope the trip does not become into a getaway

despite my fears of stealth.

I did not run from your breath,

I stayed indomitable at your crotch...

something tells me you're as much mine as I am yours

although it was just a sigh, a whisper of the saints.

A bird followed my path and flew towards madness.

One night finished by the hours,

the next day the consent in a second.

Again that emptiness, 

that nothingness that pursued my life.

I hear and tremble

I feel you and I see not

is again as death

as the one who’s follow me.

I don not understand this state

I do not understand the vocation I was given.

Happy for me,  for you

that you existed and that you loved.

I have my path in a crossroads

I do not know where to go.

I see over the horizon

oh Ithaca!, my Ithaca! ...

you're my island where I shall be wrecked.

CDMX 2012

At Night

A distance blue ocean
languishes before the horizon,

even when my eyes cannot reach  

behind its boundaries

I see you through the corners of

the incoming memories

woven with your voice and silences.

I see you in a dream out far

caress by the infinite stars

that blow with longing tears.

You sat half-light hanging from the shadows…

What you want is to see, to hear

all the way across of the hall.

You hear her laugh and your forehead raises.

 I will be there, always and never

In the spare spaces

In the ocher times when the evening falls

You think of her at dawn,

you go to sleep behind her image

cuddling your dreams and your thirst
with a solid hope.

So many miles

so many hours…

I wish I could touch you

feel the wind that betrays flowers

while they dance every morning.

We move winged

We run…

Lay with me on the stairs

of verses and delusions .

Despite so much space

your heartbeat and my heartbeat

at same compass trot…
You take the journey, you take the cadence

You will be true and gentle

I will be your abode.

…They  will get to you, at night

in your sleep

in a riverbed of langsyne…

It Comes About

Night in a rustle entwined

in an uncommon surreal way

the dawn and the moon counterclockwise.

Overthrow under the shadow

over a riverbed of illusions

a beat of violetblue dreams of thoughts,

who crave a future of crimson spectre

full of glint and ragweed.

Your lips falls under the light of my memory

as words bounded by silences

said beyond what they have named.

I find you hanging at

the corners of my mind,

flits in rhymes and poems

wedging an infringe token...

We are the past of a future

from today in the distance

emerged from rubble and

conquered performances.

At the aurora of the storm,

tremor of the wind

and the glow of thunder,

shines in time a wish

sailing through space with

golden reflection of the fields,

while the leaves of grass

bloom spontaneous

in a natural flow of the sense.

Strong tied one by one the events

while continuum takes us bow

natural and suddenly.

It's hard to believe what this is

despite the few hours and

the distance in between.

So it will be in the winter,

the heat of the flames of your soul

and my desires wrap in every hall,

honey runs through the grass wandering

in deviant  yards in ghosts.

Winter will off hook the soft stars

that shine in the sky,

will take from my womb their whims

disguised  as mermaids

on a sward of miles

innocent walked.

You will be my night.

I will be your day.

Just then will know

we have come to motherland.

A Sward of Stars

I lay under the moon on a sward of blueice stars 
hanging from a mythical web of dreams ... 
I put my pride aside and came into the void
with the skin flayed of my bones 
and an incandescent light of unnamed silences. 

I waited my turn and languished in nakedness
the whisper of the night sighed 
thousand winds of night
drowned with mist barren distances. 

Your halo fell into the underworld
your aura dispel in the waters of the Styx. 

I will not stand on your grave 
nor cry your past
I will not remember your name 
nor come disguised 
of wings and flight of birds 
every dawn , 
I will not be the morning due.

Today I got dressed in time 
the clothes of longing 
but tomorrow I will awake 
hanging trough the wires of the the moon
in a sward of stars .... 
falling... 

with a bright canvas in my hands.

Across the Time

I won't stand across the dead
and share them tears of sadness.
I will not become my pain,
I will not become
the shadow of what could be
into a yesterday's dream...
So there stands a wonder of myths,
at the end there will be no keep
as the shadow came and randomly took her away.
There is not a day that I won't weep,
I shrunk my soul to be reborn,
unleashed fierce anger
and got on my feet...
Oh no, do not falter me... but
There is not a day that I won't weep.
I shrunk my soul to be reborn
unleashed fierce anger and got on my feet.
I ran through all the minutes of silence distances
and have taken the warrior's way...
thousand winds araise me
through the mountain colours
and the Dimond seas.
I won't say I have not been defeat
that I have not been assaulted by life's irony
But I am the wisdom route
where the oracle has encountered an answer dream,
and if I will not stand across the living
where there is not a truth
I will cherish existence as far as you are there to be...

(Somewhere in the past 2009)

Solitude Selves

I might have a vision
where you encounter a soul and spirit
between the dreamland of distance
not in the same space as well
but at the same time instead,
the horizon approaches
the miles of memories to build.
Together comes at daydreams
under the imaginativeness of a picture
constructed by many words
that fall across the light and the dark
when my day becomes your night...
and your day appears in the middle
of a cherished desire.
I lay down over a million of doubts
under the cosmos ground of an ancient wire
but now, I lay above a shinning smile
with a compass of many wildest wants
that I never thought I will have.
Soft tender feelings arise and
I look ahead with a charming light
It might thunder tonight
it might tremble aside
it would become an end of two solitude selves...

Old Comes the Breeze

Random falls the ocean leaves 
come together in a silent dew 
a sight of wonder hits down the edge 
whispering troubled, what is happening here?
And yet no longer I have expected thee...
... you came as soft tenderness of the morning dream
Oh! what can I say...
Overmany mysteries, you are from all onuppan 
my wildest imaginary...
not so even I never have thought it would exist
Random falls ...
Canst thou wit what the day shall bring
nor the night nor the space in between
two lungs no longer weep...
two lungs of randon breathe...
shallow, no doesn't feel as it...
the ocean comes groping beneath 
the gentle breeze ...
Random falls
into my future memories...

(Foolling around)