We sculpt clay into the things
we cannot force our bodies into
we string the alphabet
into stories we are afraid to live
we paint with colors we cannot see
and we ignore the music
inside the beat of our hearts

as we forget what it means to live
we muse on what was
once beautiful about being alive
and forget our thoughts
as we stare emptily to the sky

and the night swallows the day
and the day murders the night
and prayers become graveyards
for dead gods
and our beds become coffins
for dreams

round and round the clay
of the earth spins
and slips through our fingers
as time is something we waste
and our reflection
is a ghost of once was
and what could be

if we could only remember
who we were before
we became prisoners inside
our own minds and found shame
in the shape of our flesh

before we needed the alphabet
to speak of love
and metaphors to hide behind
and fairy tales to mend our wounds

back when the music
inside the beat of our hearts
was all we needed
to know that we were beautiful

Foolishness should be a crime
And a heavy crime,
It takes more of oneself than anything ever could with sharp grey razors
Penetrating flesh slowly in one's immense pleasure,
Oddly satisfying until the end comes,
                      And the end is always near
                                     As foolishness gets in touch with reality.

And what strikes me is that anyone can be a fool,
It seems to be embedded in the human DNA
                        Holding hands with corruption,
For foolishness is nothing but the corruption of oneself
At the hands of fantasy.

Could never fall for you,
Could never fall while the summer smiling,
Could never fade into your shadow sighing,
But I did.

Leaving sane,
Was never something I suspected,
Antecipated or intended, yet how I wish
Your word wasn't blue,
And your heart true
To someone else's beating.

Could never fall for you,
Could never fall while the summer smiling,
Could never fade into you recklessly trying,
But I did.

Now in trance,
Leaving traces of my senses,
Interpretating all my phases, of regret
And what I set,
Foolishly in dread
By letting you in me.

Could never fall,
Never at all,
Leaving sane...

As I listen to Charlie Parker I imagine
                                                  your body pressed against mine
But you're far intangible as the night's sky.

You left no scar but a lump in my throat
                                                 excruciatingly squirming to burst
Into tears and I'll be here awake in the breakfastless morning,
Shooting gazes of rage at the wall as my coffee's brewing.

No fault on both,
Nobody's fault but my foolish heart's.
I dealt the cards and the Joker came out.

Today, for the first time in my life,
Got bored observing people.

My look at those gazeless eyes
Other times plainly happy for the shining lights.

My definition of 'shining' is not equal to their's,
Of 'success' neither.

Finally alone I felt lonely for the first time in a while,
Guess all friends are away,

Except for a few inanimated ones.

People people
                         they go around like pigs
                         showcasing their fancy suits
                         proclamating the biggest trend

Jewelry, then food, then them big fast automobiles

Those are the priorities by order

Getting greedy
Getting fat
Gettin' Gettin' GETTIN'
                                
                                 In a monstruous ball of meat!
                                 With a monstruous will of plastic!
                                 Monstruously stupid!
                                              Monstruous,­
                                              monstruous...

I'm­ gettin' tired
But I'm afraid,
They are just getting started.

A couple being playful
Holding hands occasionally,
A man tuning his guitar in the sand by the sea,
A lonely woman coming back to the hotel
White plastic bag in hand,
Cars swooping the yellowed
Street silhouettes

And the man who can't sleep
Because his body's clock is upside down
Because there were 37ºC during the day
And body can't be refreshed by hot salty water
Because he dreamed and she was there,
More time than he needed
With such tenderness which couldn't be imagined

And the Mediterranean is getting bluer by the minute
And the boats now visible
And the guitar player never left the sand
And the man who can't sleep will remain awaken
By a dream which had put him to sleep.