27 November, 2007

Fear to love

No one seemed able to
enter his heart again
After that wound
prohibition was the cover of love

Someone wanted to come in sometime
but he always said no.
And this is why…
¿who doesn’t fear pain?

Always blaming his interior complex
“nobody could want such as I”.
Deep inside he was feeling loneliness
was not the solution in his life.
But…
¿who doesn’t fear pain?

A comfortable home and a job he found
although he was still jailed in himself.
Few were calling to his lonely and lost soul,
and yet loneliness
was not a means to an end.
But…
¿who doesn’t fear pain?

Soon came old age and desperation,
wanting to turn back from his terrible mistake,
but it was late and none he found,
only a phrase in the infinite he heard,
someone answering his question:
“Never have fear to love”.

26 November, 2007

Kiss and skin

Nothing to do with the evil,
it can’t be compared with the fog.
There is something strange that I want to discover,
as if a magnetic mystery was about.

When I see her something is unhinged in me,
and I think that my eyes lie,
but if I lose her I only think about dying.

It would be easier to switch off the moon
with a piece of the sun
that has in her eyes my insatiable ardor.

Nothing to do with God,
you can’t compared mirror and light with kiss and skin.
It is useless to imagine the voice of her heart
if I can’t reach it with a song.

25 November, 2007

The man who died of love

Once upon a time, in a place not so very far away, there was a man who died of love.
Every morning, early, he would feel a pain in his heart while the sounds of life came in through his window.
The taste of honey and bread and coffee was turning his soul inside out.

He was working for love, giving magic to the street, leaving his skin in the scenario.
He would cry in the evenings, watching the sun falling behind the sea, and the pain would return deep inside.
He would say that the moon knew everything about humans, and when he saw it made him tremble.
Believing to keep a star into a golden casket that was over his table lamp.
He would dream of women’s sweet and tender smiles, but on waking the pain would return deep inside.

Yesterday the crying of the rain caused him too much pain, and he decided to die.
Everyone thought he was mad, but I cover his coffin with flowers every full moon because I know he died of love.

24 November, 2007

Something goes wrong

You are alone on the path
as mocking destiny.
They lied to you,
they cheated you.

None stand by your side,
and yesterday’s friend
is gone today.

Something goes wrong,
something is broken,
something must be fixed soon.

“You have to laugh at life”,
is what you used to say,
but now life is laughing at you.

They lied to you,
they cheated you,
none stand by your side.

You have to cure,
you have to fix,
you have to start all over again.

23 November, 2007

Cristina

She was born without parents’ care,
grew up in a bad family,
too much hurt in her fragile heart.
Little by little the pain broke,
her mind was coming apart,
and no-one wanted to do anything.

They took her to a man in a white coat,
he wanted to cure everything with pills,
but she was still breaking in her dreams.
Too much pain in her fragile heart,
not a friend to embrace,
many hours alone in her solitude.

Too much time to think,
with nothing that can fill the empty space.
Maybe in the bohemia she could find
some release of peace and tranquility.

But there’s no future to this story,
only a false and vain escape.
Too much hurt for Cristina,
empty and hollow found in this society.

Yesterday I saw her begging for compassion in the street,
Aids, drugs and filth
will carry her into death.
And who cares…
Nobody.

22 November, 2007

Waiting

One more night waiting
for something new to happen,
another day finished
and nothing has changed.
Something is wrong,
something doesn’t work,
don’t know what is happening,
neither how to fix it.

I confuse myself,
I do not find hope,
and I hide,
seeking words.

I go back home
and nobody speaks,
not even a single glance.
How many hours wasted
anticipating this homecoming.

How many things I did for her,
all worth nothing.
I must keep on walking,
though it is hard to forget her.

Maybe the time will give me
a way out,
any little space,
a flame that can light my life.
Something is wrong,
something doesn’t work,
it is a mania I can’t shake off.

I heard yesterday that she has found love again,
though I know she hasn’t forgotten me,
and although my pride is wounded,
I’m still waiting for her.

How many things I did for her,
and worth for nothing.
Only my walk remains,
though it is hard to forget her.

21 November, 2007

Kiss me

Big smile like the blue sky,
looks sad and profound like the sea.
Hair and sun as equal,
delicate gesture,
glass dove.

Don’t talk me about the past,
nothing I want to know.
Don’t ask me anything,
nothing I want to answer.
Just bury your watch in the sand
and kiss me,
kiss me,
kiss me.

You know things are not going right outside,
and everything is smashed inside.
You know we must walk,
but now we’re going to stop.

And let me breath deep the sea air,
and kiss me,
kiss me,
kiss me.

Please kiss me.

20 November, 2007

I will escape

The rope stretches,
hanging I am,
almost falling.
Trapped like a fish,
I am again,
But looking for a hole in the net
I will escape,
I will live.
Me they will not catch,
me they will not trap
their hands when I fall.

Today I can run,
without nails in my feet,
none will grab me by the neck,
and I will return,
I will return to your heart,
free like a cyclone.

I will escape,
I will live.
Me they will not catch,
me they will not trap
their hands when I fall.

You have to see,
what price can be paid
for a piece of freedom
when you are on the edge.
I will spit the face of the evil.
I’ll break through my fear again…
I will escape,
I will live.
Me they will not catch,
me they will not trap
their hands when I fall.

Make yourself
a concrete house,
stronger,
much stronger than God.
I will escape,
I will live.
Me they will not catch,
me they will not trap
their hands when I fall.

19 November, 2007

It will never be the same

Yesterday I realize that no,
not everything that shines is gold.
Yesterday I saw in your face that no,
It’s not even brass.
Looks like a lie and maybe it is,
you are not what I imagined,
but I tell you that you lose more.

Maybe you will try to change,
but my face will never return
to the smile of yesterday.
Friendship is something you have to take care of,
and when it seems truth can deceive you.
And no,
it will never be the same.

Tomorrow maybe I’ll see you somewhere
and remember something about you.
Tomorrow I will forget when we played
to be passengers of the same boat.
.
And do not forget that your pride
is worth nothing,
only to be drown you in it.
And no,
it never will be the same.

18 November, 2007

It's hot in here

Its hot in here,
sitting under the August tree.
Hours pass quick through you,
looking at the blue of sky.
I’m almost drowned by the hot wind of the South,
but it doesn’t bother me,
I’m ok like this.

There are things that kill
with the poison of pleasure.
There are places that suffocate
but always you want to return.

Summer in Seville,
where the sun burns more.
August in Seville,
is something to keep.
I’m ok here,
I’m ok here,
I’m ok here.

It’s hot in here,
although night has fallen.
Looks like the rain has lost
the keys of its car.
Old women leant out
of the balconies to breath,
old men fill themselves
with beer in every bar.
I’m ok here,
I’m ok here,
I’m ok like this.

17 November, 2007

I have

I have scars in skin and soul
that already are closed.
I have broken past loves
that already are almost forgotten.
I have books in my room’s shell
that already are used.
I have old photos in a scrap book
that have already happened.
But I don’t have a home,
beach and sun close to you.
But I don’t have a car,
country and stars close to you.
But I don’t have a dog,
bread and trees planted.

I have an old guitar
that I’m still playing.
I have music and old records
that are still sounding.
I have ideas and written songs
that were kept in a drawer.
But I don’t have a home,
beach and sun close to you.
But I don’t have a car,
country and stars close to you.
But I don’t have a dog,
bread and trees planted.

16 November, 2007

Is that the love?

Why is love necessary?, one wise man asked to another one.
I don’t know but loneliness is not a good companion, answered this one.
Have you felt anytime how the smile of a woman makes you shake inside?, he asked him again.
Yes… Is that the love?
Have you seen the sun appearing behind the sea into the morning?
Yes… Is that the love?
Have you watched the moon clearing up the darkest night?
Yes… Is that love?
Have you appreciated the tender of a baby looking for the arms of his mum?
Yes… Is that love?
Have you tried the fresh fountain water when your thirst is sour?
Yes… Is that love?
Have you hugged to a friend leaving your soul into it?
Yes… Is that love?
Have you cried anytime when your dream were broken?
Yes… Is that love?
Then you know why the love is necessary?
I don’t know but loneliness is not a good companion, concluded both at the same time while disappearing his own image from the mirror.

15 November, 2007

Perpetual love

I want to have time always with me.
I want to catch the life between my hands.
I want to take the feeling of my soul.
I want to make the perpetual love.

I want to see always the same moon.
I want the sun never to blind me.
I want to step firmly on the same floor.
I want to see the finest blue of the sky.

When the clock hands have stopped.
When the life drips between my hands.
When there is not hope in my heart.
Only then will I have full emptiness.

When the infinite is dark.
When nothing is illuminated.
When my steps can not leave footprint.
Then I’ll be dead.

14 November, 2007

Dieing of love

To be uneasy inside,
not stop thinking
Ideas cross
and they all end in you.

Without knowing what to do,
without knowing what to say.
Fear of pain?,
and dieing of love.

Why?,
you ask yourself.
Because there’s no answer.
Better alone thañ in bad company?,
you choose the result.

Nobody can answer,
nobody knows what to reply.
You are stuck inside yourself,
a lock you don’t know how to open.

Without knowing what to do,
without knowing what to say.
Fear of pain?,
and dieing of love.

Who asks you?,
who has the answer.
Better alone than in bad company?,
you choose the result.

13 November, 2007

My solitude

My solitude is the guilt of all my being,
because of it I create,
I love and I suffer.
A torn heart over and again.

I do not wish it,
I run and hide it behind people.
I want it and I hate it,
I love it and I despise it.
Mi solitude is not silenced, it is musical,
because of it I write stories and songs.
I don’t want to have it,
but I meet it.
Always a recollection of my origin and destiny,
memory of what it could be but is not.

My solitude is the companion of my life.
A lonely soul,
I know.
Sadness that embraces me and I want to pull out,
deep heady melancholy,
profound melodic loneliness.
In its interior I find the explanation of my fate.



My solitude is singular,
my essence is stuck inside.
My persona will die with it,
maybe I would be vulgar without it.
Because of it I love life itself.

12 November, 2007

Thinking about you

I’m thinking about you,
the atmosphere is filled with your smell.
I’m drawing your smile into my imagination,
I steal from you a short and sweet kiss.

I’m thinking about you,
like I’ve thought of others before.
My loneliness needs you,
my emptiness filled with your image.

Paper and ink together again,
to write the face of love.
Again in love?
Newly bewitched?

I’m thinking about you,
passionate naked woman.
My lips kissing you,
my chest with your breasts.

I’m thinking about you,
your legs embracing me.
Two in one making love,
shaken in the same beat.

To feel fear of this lost,
and to be happy with this instant.
I can dream about you and I don’t have you.
¡If you could know about this dream!

I’m thinking about you,
holding our hands across life,
accomplices of the same feeling,
kisses without notice.

I’m thinking about you,
switching off my own self.
annulling my identity,
obsessing myself to get you.

Why?,
I ask myself.
because there’s no reply.
Waiting to see you again,
wishing to posses you.

I’m thinking about you,
your look wrapped in me.
I’m sick again,
heady for you.

I’m thinking about you,
and this thought blinds my mind.
You embrace all my being,
and I can’t unhook myself.

What a goodness’ sensation!
and how torturing at the same time.
Music swings my soul,
sinking in you heart.

I’m thinking about you,
believing I am a fool of love.
Mad again,
again in love.

I’m thinking about you,
and it wouldn’t be enough to posses you,
this could take off my anguish though.
I want to kill you inside my spirit.

Why?
I ask to myself,
because there’s no reply.
Nothing I can do,
except writing about you.

I’m thinking about you,
giving meaning to my existence,
and wrinkling my character.
I can’t find myself yet.

I’m thinking about you,
remembering you although I didn’t want.
I paint you in my imagination,
your lips are kissing me again.

I don’t know why I wish for you.
I want to wake up with you every new day.
I want to rest close to you every single night.
I want you to be only mine.

Where are you!?

11 November, 2007

I ask

I ask why the wise man dies a fool.
I ask why the poet dies without rhythm.
I ask why the married dies in loneliness.
I ask why the man dies buried.
And none have answered me yet,
and although I’m still asking many people,
nobody has given me a convincing answer.

But I’m still asking.
looking for responses to clarify my doubts,
poking in the most profound places of my soul.
getting lost into the labyrinths of my human being.

I ask why the man causes hurt.
I ask why life appears to us complicated.
I ask why we make the love difficult.
I ask why I ask
And none have answered me yet,
and although I’m still asking many people,
nobody has given me a clear answer.

But I’m still asking,
looking for answers man has never found,
and when the secret is revealed to me
I will understand why man is human.

10 November, 2007

Existence

Why are you called this?
Why do you have a name?
Why do you feel like this?
Why do you believe you are a man?

Who told you that everything has a meaning?
Who put you here in this place?
Who do you think replies when you ask?
Who declares that you are convinced of your gender?

Why do you cry or laugh?
Why do you think you exist?
Why do you wake up from your dreams?
Or maybe you were still sleeping?

Who put happiness or sadness in your soul?
Who is going to talk about you as a being that has existed?
Who knows if you were sleeping in your dreams?
Who will state that you have lived here?

09 November, 2007

Woman's body

Woman’s body.
Skin of a different feel,
smooth and profound curves.
Necessity of my sex,
caress of my hands,
shelter of my soul.

Woman’s body.
A different way of feeling,
a universe to discover.
With the other face of my self,
and what my being needs.

Woman’s body.
Naked is fragile passion,
dressed is sweet to know.
You know everything about me,
I’m nothing without you.

Woman’s body.
Remembering of a mortal sin
which man never could refuse.
Quencher of my thirst,
water of my life.


Woman’s body.
Damned who hates you.
Blessed who knows how to love you.
If I die without having you,
I will have died wishing for you.

08 November, 2007

A man and a woman

A man and a woman,
a small different world
far away from the rest of the universe.
Talking about important things,
without giving importance to other things.
Kissing each other without asking
who cares about their love.

Two people in love,
making a special feeling
which no-one else could ever participate in.
Embraced soul and body,
tied to a single spirit
that trembles in one unique passion.

A man and a woman,
radiating happiness,
smiling at life.
Walking in step,
with the same rhythm,
and a particular emotion.

Two people building an earthly paradise,
heaven and hell are gone.
Without knowing how to explain
the beauty their passion breathes.

A man and a woman in love,
until time forgets
the flame that one day lit
two lives to thaw
freezing loneliness.

07 November, 2007

Anxiety of love

Slow torture that makes me look for
someone to talk to.
Bitter nostalgia that makes me feel
that my innocent past was happy.
I watch the people who seem to be smiling,
they all have someone to share.
A vagabond in the street sings this song
I feel empathy and I recognise myself in him.

Why this anxiety of love?
Why do I need someone if
my solitude is already enough company?

Have you cried some time when you were losing your dreams?
Have you been somewhere where the hopes dissipate?
Maybe then you can understand me.
Maybe there is a place where peace and love are easy.
Maybe man one day can be happy forever,
and walk naked and free.

06 November, 2007

Smile

Happy crying of the heart.
Shudder of the being.
Happy expression of an accomplice gesture
that transmits you a sincere pleasure.

Easy grimace of the human face,
sometimes difficult to pronounce.
It has an immense vital fury
that holds you to the strength of being.

Tender instant of pleasure.
Hope of something better.
Short moment like no other in which
soul and body smile.

05 November, 2007

Thirst for life

I have thirst for life,
I want to drink its water,
to drown myself in its taste,
to fill my senses with its power.

But loneliness dries me out,
takes me away from its flow,
fills me with its sadness,
blinds me as an unhappy drunk.

I have thirst for life,
I want to fill myself with its freshness,
to swim within its balm,
to stay within its pleasure.

But sadness hurts me,
burns me with its coldness,
damages me with its sourness,
pushes me away from its glow.

I have thirst for life,
I need its breath,
I wish to inflate myself with its air,
to fly among its breezes.

But melancholy strangles me,
traps me between its arms,
making me die instantly,
denying me its essence of being.

04 November, 2007

Stormclouds

Pain is close already,
black clouds wait
the time for the storm to approach.
Why suffer?
I don’t know.
If someone will be waiting for me later,
maybe I could understand
that sunshine comes after the rain.
Everything would be easier with you,
a hug,
a kiss,
and everything would be understood.
But no,
there’s not happiness after my cry,
only a vain effort of hope.

Pain is close already,
black clouds wait
the time for the storm to approach.
What can I do?
I don’t know.
If I look for you I can’t find you,
when I think I find you its not you,
this is the luck of my life,
to look for and not to find.
An absurd game fate has given me
that I could not yet win.
Thousands of times I have felt sorry for myself,
Hoping to believe myself strong and unique afterwards.
None of that is true,
only a veil that hides the truth.
But I have to hope or to finish it,
and I prefer to hope.

… maybe tomorrow the sun will shine.

02 November, 2007

This is how I love you

¡God!, this is how I love you:
with that blue expression
that the colour can’t describe,
with that sweet gesture
that the flavour can’t give.

Nobody knows where you are,
many say you do not exist.
But I hope
and waiting I fear.

¡Dammed!, this is how I lose you:
with that tender smile
that my senses can’t touch,
with that vocal body
that my ears can’t hear.

“Am I asking too much?”,
someone asks
and asks inside of me.

Yesterday I dreamt of you,
I saw you again and you left,
you weren’t there when I woke up.
The mundane routine will make me forget
what, in my loneliness, I will dream again.
God!, this is how I wait for you,
and waiting I die.

01 November, 2007

Filling me with love

Embracing you,
filling me with love.
dancing to the same song
that enraptures us with happiness.

Smiling with you,
kissing your lips,
playing in primitive joy,
that we make to our size.

Tied to you,
saying “I love you”,
feeling a strong heart
that is alive as never before.

Sailing with you,
stopping the time,
arriving to an endless finale
that has no beginning.