If I were a bird
free from heavy feet
I would touch the clouds
every day
even if it meant
my body dead in the bay
floating with the waves
rising and falling
to the beat
of another day.
May 30, 2019
May 30, 2019 at 12:28 AM UTC
Crossing the Malad pass
I grabbed my heart
and threw it against
the distorted window.
It remained there,
stuck as a dead insect,
streams of blood dripping down.
My pain now rides the bus to be seen
by bystanders, casual walkers
and old couples holding hands.
Not by him, who stayed
behind the mountains.
Aug 13, 2017
Aug 13, 2017 at 3:49 AM UTC
Here is the breeze again
and the smell of grass
of water of firewood.
Leaning
to unspoken music.
Crushed squirrel,
get up and dance with me
for an instant
before I lose your sight.
I had forgotten
how to rage
against the wind.
I was going to walk the road,
tamed as a wild animal.
I forgot I ain’t no road ****
The trees run backwards in time
for those anchored in speed.
Mar 2, 2017
Mar 2, 2017 at 3:49 AM UTC
A veces escribo cosas
exageradamente malas
y sueño con la perversión
de que tú las lees.
Aug 10, 2015
Aug 10, 2015 at 5:37 PM UTC
Tormento de tormenta en el exilio:
me llamas con tu voz de boca en llamas.
Te quemas, me torturas, te desbocas,
loca sota en baraja sin figuras.
Auguras un futuro de horas muertas,
tuertas, yertas, seguras de su suerte,
estrechas en su muerte, hijas de calenturas,
de noches sin holgura y sin recuerdos.
Acuerdos acometo con extraños;
de estaño es la cometa de los cuerdos,
arrastrando su vuelo por el barro.
Nov 30, 2014
Nov 30, 2014 at 1:39 PM UTC
The day I left
I took one stone,
put it in my pocket.
As I walked away,
all lost
behind the mountains,
it became so heavy
I could barely stand.
I had to let it go.
I stopped there,
looking down at the road
paved
by so many betrayals.
Nov 19, 2014
Nov 19, 2014 at 9:02 PM UTC
Tus ojos son como peces.
A la deriva, me observan
un instante, indiferentes.
Tus ojos son como peces
huidizos. Si me encuentran,
dan un giro de repente.
Tus ojos son como peces.
Casi como si me vieran
flotan curiosos enfrente.
Tus ojos son como peces
que para encontrar mis ojos
nadan a contracorriente.
Sep 12, 2014
Sep 12, 2014 at 12:31 AM UTC
Oigo voces
que no entiendo
aunque sean en mi lengua.
Me especialicé
en escuchar a las piedras.
Suena el agua de otra lluvia.
Los gusanos se confunden
y se secan.
Sep 5, 2014
Sep 5, 2014 at 9:18 PM UTC
Blanco.
Parece tan puro,
tan frío,
tan suave.
Pero no es nieve.
Ni es frío,
ni puro,
ni dulce,
ni sacia tu sed.
Rojo,
parece encendido,
furioso,
amenaza.
Pero no es fuego,
ni daña,
ni grita,
ni quema tu piel.
Mi vida,
bajo tu manta,
tú eres el lago de sal,
y yo el atardecer.
Aug 29, 2014
Aug 29, 2014 at 10:48 AM UTC