beautiful doesn't represent you
you represent beautiful

r.n

There was an Old Man with a flute,
A sarpint ran into his boot;
But he played daay and night,
Till the sarpint took flight,
And avoided that man with a flute.

And they asked me
"Are you down to ****? Or  do you prefer friends with benefits?
Either way there would never be any emotions involved", they say
I said "no, I don’t want any of those things"
Their faces started to change
My guards are high up and they suddenly wanted the chase

But "seriously no", I reiterated
"I don’t want my body to be used in any of your fantasies
It’s not that I haven’t tried any of those things you are imagining right now
I have been there, I have done that
Far too many times than the acceptable number
But I am not ashamed, I am not proud either"

Some of them turned their backs on me due to their dismay
“You shouldn’t really be here” they say
But I am just looking for someone to talk to
This is something that they really cannot accept

I know that my credentials fill your heads with imagination
My photos burn your souls alive
And my words linger in your minds
I have you all trapped under my finger tips
You all want me, but I don’t want you
I am sorry, but not in that way

Because I have been there, I have done that
Far too many times than the acceptable number
But I am not ashamed, I am not proud either
Because I know my worth
And none of you deserves my

I love the simple fact of thinking,
you that I love you not for your blood ...
but because you are a flower
that rests his head on my universe.


My hands smell your sweet hair,
scattered will feel blessed
I sing well without despair
whose golden peace in your image becomes clear ...


With my kisses transfer my manners used
see you in sunny days,
so the sun shines digging my dreams of being your shadow ...

My heart washes a crack,
it your eyes are weary
who they yearn for her beloved membrane iris
filling the rivers of my opponent's leisure,
looking pronounce your voice ..
and the breakdown of his departure ...


My wealth  sleep in your eyes,
and between evils is not expected mourn my heart
to see if they share your favour,
believing drop the living part in your hands ...


But I'll risk on your behalf,
and living piece belong to the bare life of summer;
presence of my live and see you reap the fruits of my love
idle the heart of summer brought me in your dreams ...


Come close my eyelids,
sleep open my chest ...
deepening the tenderness of your face ...
If one day I was sad,
it was for the vast fortuneless not know your face;
emerging as the delicate flower in spring ...


If it is denied me your face ...
singing laugh by rain,
and the more rain,
I love you more ...


Why sing your beautiful smile today ...?
God will be philosophy ...
or those made melodies of my conscience,
I feel regretful that shrink ...


Maybe it's the air you breathe beautiful inside me
knotting the tulip flowers on the field dreamed ...
or capricious knots of my soul,
young death squeezing in the corner ...


When you turn this beautiful candle;
you see beautiful smile flying beyond despair ...
watching your walk near my poems ...


My madness brief for you,
It's like winning your sky ...
He laughs too proud to learn that a secret,
runs through the fields to kiss your hands ...


Now I'm afraid to run away and be my destroyer ...
I just want the flame of your life
jump to the roof of my heart
and say with gentle gestures of your face,
Here I come to do your grief like mine,
see where your laughter despite my blindness
hitting my eyes adoring you ...!


Do not talk with deadly words
talk to dreams that are passions of hell feel ...
and so gentle message of your love,
I have to entrust your peace and service ...
raising hopes for new ...

I ask the confidence of call,
with all the names that talk about you ...!


José Luis Carreño Troncoso /  copyright 15

Karma was a dancer
at the Déjà Vu,
trading fantasies a few days a week
for *****, crumpled bills and
then living the dream on her days off.
That was before I knew her.
Before she faded just a little.

Which is not to say
that she was no longer beautiful
with her mermaid hair,
the color somewhere between
phosphorescent amber and
burning chestnut brown,
down to her *** and falling all around
her painfully sensuous curves.

The faint pucker lines 'round her mouth,
that liver spot,
a slight, barely discernable paunch,
I could see such things, too but
they only endeared me to
the façade of some silly notion
a kin to forever.

We would stay up late,
even on the weeknights,  
wine silly and
**** chatty.
She would dance
and I would tell her
****** poems in exchange.
It seemed like a good trade
to me but the truth is,
she was being shorted in the deal.

We said,
I love you
but I’m not sure we knew
that we didn’t really have that
to offer one another.
Both of us had sold more
than we had ever bargained for
long before we met.

When money ran thin and
times grew hard
she split.

Hope still stops by on occasion.
(She was a dancer, too).
But it seems a bit easier to distinguish
differences between the faux
and the genuine these days.
She doesn’t stay long.

I like to blame it all on Karma
despite knowing that I was just never
quite frugal or savvy enough to afford more than a few perfume-drenched moments at the foot of the stage.

Were I a conspiracy theorist
(which I'm not), I would
tell you there will be
no 2016 elections
because before then
another faked terrorist
attack, like 9/11 only
worse, will be staged,
the elections will be
suspended, martial law
will be declared
our own military,
will occupy America,
resistance will be crushed
and dissenters will
simply disappear.

But I'm not a
conspiracy theorist
and I won't
tell you this
because it would
make you
uncomfortable
and Americans
do not like to be
uncomfortable
regardless of
the cliff they
are about
to step off of.

  ~mce