Time's symphony.

Silk white cold blankets, today you cover dead trees.
In days you will melt, and in months they'll grow leaves.
Treacherous time, you're the cure and death of all,
Architect of the cycle to which we all fall.

Some call you a teacher, but I see a tyrant.
Sadistic! Breeder of death, life, peace and violence.
During the four seasons you conduct the grand symphony
Through which you gave life, and set a date- to take it from me.

Animadverted

Rancid form of life
Evolution must have left you behind.
Voluntarily submissive
And bound to traits of a lesser kind.
Yearning for balance
On a fragile crystal ball-
Under the weight of it all
Reality will have you fall.
Evanesce with the shards
And put them through your head,
Child you will mature.
Unleash yourself from what is heard and said.
Nevermind the blindness, soon you'll learn to see.
Time has all the answers, if you learn to count from one to three.

Truth's plea

I spoke to truth today.
It said it feels lonely, abandoned, and forgotten.
I gave it a hug.
It said it missed the warmth of our kind.
We embraced for a moment longer, and it plead for me to never let it fall into the abyss of things left uncertain.

Becoming

Wanting a change requires you to envision the change. That vision is like any other, real because the eye can see, but nothing more than notions conceived through the wants of a mind. Until a step is taken to close the distance between notion and reality, the vision is nothing more than colors at a distance - A masterpiece painted on the sky. Until that step is taken to enter the canvass and be the masterpiece one is left as a spectator. Outside of "it" looking into "it" Admiring beauty without embellishing oneself with it. Wanting to experience change not knowing that to do so one only has to become the change itself.

Estimada Ignorancia

Ignorancia quien eres? Me confundes con tu ser.
Herramienta usada por esos en poder, comodidad ofrecidas por las manos del no saber.
Salvavidas para los que viven en temor y cancer para los que se perfuman con la verdad y su esplendor.
Sientate, quieres un poco de te? No? talvez un cafe? Muy bien.
Cuentame, existes fuera de nuestras emociones?
O eres desarrollada por nuestras experiencias y nociones?
Te veo presente en todas partes de esta roca. En las calles, mercados, oficinas, y hasta el teatro.
Pero aunque estoy consiente de tu presencia, no puedo ver la mascara que llevas puesta.
Y asi como me confunde tu presencia tambien lo hace tu ausencia.
Que a que me refiero? Permiteme entretenerte con esta idea. Que tan familiar eres con la historia de Orestes? Perfecto!
No estuviste presente en el momento que tejio el cambio en su vida.
Ambos sabemos a que llegaron sus acciones, y por lo tanto te pregunto: sera que tienes intenciones?
No pretendo culparte y mucho menos juzgarte, pero espero que lo siguiente puedas explicarme.
No entiendo como es que arropado entre viñas de uva no encuentre vino que remueva la sed de mi sangre.
Y que para la lepra hambrienta en mi piel, no exista pan que la calme.
Talvez en otra dimension podras ayudarme y estas preguntas contestar.
Talvez con tazas ausentes, otro cafe nos podremos tomar.
Hasta ese entones te llevare por las manos, sin preocupacion a donde vallamos a andar.
Hasta que esa fraccion tuya que vive tan dentro de mi, yo pueda matar.

Expo di arte di vita, 2009/ On an empty wall

On an empty wall lay - a will to fly and a sense of survival.
Wings that would rather keep one warm than to spread out in oblivion.
An indolence, fearful of its reflection, that conceived a qualm
Nescient of everything but that fear, on this wall, indolence is revealed.
A depiction of both supporting each other, I present to you - earth's most perfect lovers.

Remains of the day

The remains of the day
and your absence - they sway.
From thoughts in no place
to still frames of your face.
In vistas long gone
she writes you a song.
With the whispering breeze
she screams out her pleas.
She pummels and ruffles
the truth that she knows,
she fractures the fractions
you left of her core.
Raptures and ruptures
desires and wishes,
of a poor bride and poor whore
that longs to think of you - no more.