At the sight of the rocks
I forget
about bruised hips
and heavy legs.
I run.
The clusters of cold,
granite teeth do not shake
with the approaching of thunder.
Our thin ropes do,
heavy on our waist, sixty metres at a time.
We try to move fast
on the scarred ridge of the giant monster.
His indifference to our suffering – frightening
and alluring. His apparent death –
the essence of life.
On the way back
it is the sight of the lake
that saves us.
Lakes always do.
But not from tears of exhaustion
or sleepless nights on granite slabs.
Mar 10, 2019
Mar 10, 2019 at 2:28 PM UTC
A veces
me pregunto por qué no puedo ser
una de esas personas
que no se preguntan.
Esas que viven inmóviles
inmovibles.
y yo acá , en Medellín Irkutsk París
qué cambia
qué hago
busco la búsqueda
dudo de todo
escribiendo
en este idioma ajeno
qué miedo
y que placer
y esperando
veo las hojas levantarse
en la danza
del viento que las lleva
Jul 29, 2018
Jul 29, 2018 at 7:30 PM UTC
I know no home
no more.
Clouds on window panes
are forgotten
at night
through the shutters.
Moutains rest on the calm water
bringing flavours of snow.
Flies,
unwanted company, dozed and silent
walk on the door frames
and die.
Jan 5, 2018
Jan 5, 2018 at 10:46 AM UTC
you have a hive to go back to
you see
with fellow workers
a queen bee
while I
am left in the meadow hovering
looking only
for Myself
Oct 26, 2017
Oct 26, 2017 at 8:10 PM UTC
I craved
the solitude
and finally feel
safe
alone in the dark woods
and now I see
bright green moss,
everywhere,
on the bark of the trees
And suddenly I know:
I've been set free!
Oct 26, 2017
Oct 26, 2017 at 7:58 PM UTC
the hissing noise of a camping stove
people talking in slang
headlamps
like fireflies
I live in the present
but I still think of you
Oct 24, 2017
Oct 24, 2017 at 4:41 PM UTC
walking
dazed by the noise of my noisy mind
I forget -
there always is a silent background
Of squirrels
climbing in spirals
Of water,
slow
down a cliff
Of roots
embracing the earth
How is it,
that one wants Forever?
Oct 24, 2017
Oct 24, 2017 at 1:19 PM UTC
The day you left
I thought of you -
all afternoon -
and practicing handstands
I played in the woods
Put your teachings in practice
and smiled
but it was mostly so
that I wouldn't cry
Oct 24, 2017
Oct 24, 2017 at 1:16 PM UTC
I have cried
many times before
once for every reason
but never
in my life
had I cried of freedom
Oct 12, 2017
Oct 12, 2017 at 2:18 PM UTC
I thought I'd pick a flower
in the woods
and post it home for you
but when I saw the soft bees buzzing
and smelled the lilac scent
I thought instead I'll write a poem
later in my tent
to tell you there's a flower
in the woods
I almost picked for you.
Oct 1, 2017
Oct 1, 2017 at 11:55 PM UTC