I'm neither the mirror nor the reflection
I'm neither the presence nor the absence  
I'm neither the fool nor the sage
I'm neither the seeker nor the finder
and
I'm neither the sky nor the cage

I am someone I haven't been
since
I am somewhere in between and something unseen
But if I do know a thing
is that
I am sewing what I am with the not's that I keep clean

Light thrives in the dark
by finding its way through the brenches
of a dense forest

Light thrives in the dark
by passing through the windows
of a wintered house

Light only strikes you
when you finally get to know
projected on the path you've always walked
your long buried shadow

In the veins of the giant lies the truth
off the rocky lines that meet the busy sea
where foreigners forget to look
In the veins of the giant lie the lonely trees
beyond the maps and checklists
there are winds that speak
the past, the present and future
there are winds that whisper
the nothingness of you
set side by side with its eternity

Where have you been my child?
I can't smell the beauty sitting on a couch
Where have you been hiding?
I can't see the wild disguised in my garden

Did you run from the hunger I caused you?
Did you try to cry and I didn't listen?
Well, I can't recognize whispers in my ears from an inch without you here

I know I chose a path you couldn't walk
But if you close my eyes I'll hear my way back

Is it light you need?
Is it my old voice you long?
Does it take complete silence to meet again?
'Cause I can, I can go all the time back

How have you been singing?
I stole your voice but haven't been able to speak
How have you been pleased?
I stole your smile but haven't been able to breathe

Did I think I could save my time if I didn't see it passing by
Did I try to stay afloat because diving was to difficult?
Well, now I'm drowning as my favourite parts of me die

I know I chose a river you couldn't swim
But if you breathe me in I'll dive into the stream back

Is it light you need?
Is it my old voice you long?
Does it take complete silence to meet again?
'Cause I'm going all the time back

The curse of perfection,
of good health
is
subtle,
and misunderstood,
quite like the bless of loss.


The main roads,
paved with underestimated
basic,
and foundation
are
to take us to the highest
feelings.

The bless of loss,
of disease
is
making basic
and foundation to blow the heart
a self-aware breeze

Remember the day he woke up to Wrathchild
His young mind dragged into a world groove
Eye spellbound
Magazines set the fire
Instant flame started burning in his veins
Unstoppable drive and curiosity
He dreamt of walking Sunset Boulevard
Heroes in history, immortal albums
All the miles away paradise awaits

Chorus
Flew to his dream
Years have betrayed him now he sees it all
Taken over, as we walked down that succumbed Avenue
Heroes disposed
And now the kid he once was has been killed
Faded to Black
Captive to trendy money-making hits


Just like everyday, while the record was turning,
His eyes shined, mind was carried away
Smell the leather people walk in hot air
Every corner a tune would light up his face
Not far he goes, speed burns in Bay Area
Underdogs rule the trash, Hit the Lightning
Metal chains crave every soul
Winters passed and he was getting close to

Chorus
Flew to his dream
Years have betrayed him now he sees it all
Taken over, as we walked down that succumbed Avenue
Heroes disposed
And now the kid he once was has been killed
Faded to Black
Captive to trendy money-making hits

Twisted reality, but now with open eyes
Memories of all those golden years
He can see colors of his young dreams
When he looked at Rockwalk and Rainbow Bar
Grabs that thread, hope is written in an ad
At The Chapel Exodus tonight
Alcatraz, cannot hold back that feeling
Devil’s Island starts playing in his head

Chorus
Flew to his dream
Years have betrayed him now he sees it all
Taken over, as we walked down that succumbed Avenue
Heroes disposed
And now the kid he once was has been killed
Faded to Black
Where passion and grit build a  new wonderland

It's been a warm day
The sunlight on the walls of empty houses
Tall trees pleasing themselves above the shadows,
theirs.

It's been a warm day
It's been a shiny day
Not only 'cause our greatest star is uncovered

It's been a cozy day
'Cause inside the windows of her soul were open.

What blew me was not expected
It was not immediate
What blew me was
invasive, and yet, smooth
Like the sunlight that caresses a cold wooden floor
in the heavy breath of winter

It was not explained
It did not need to be
I knew it
the moment that sunlight sat on your skin and reflected on me.
You stayed in
Hidden in a small ceramic ***
at the back of my heart
You would dance to my music every once in a while
Until winter's last smile

I felt a calling
Spring brought you out
And watched my soul lean curious towards your gaze  
In that Saint's square,
You were the glass of white wine bringing the changing tone of days

Every time our eyes met
I heard the growing beating of my senses
Asking to stay
Every time I thought of you
I read your presence
Showing the same

I'm pleased we did
Stay
In what was more than a choice, an irresistible flame
In what was more than new, a place we felt safe

I don't know how you did it
But
You had my soul naked even before you touched me

Never knew a feeling so warm
To hold my fears and make them understand
The best things in life are not planned
Never knew a feeling so high
That just by looking at you I can feel your whole body next to mine

...and the more I write
the more aware I become
no words can reveal
the intensity of the rays
when your lips kiss my neck
and my hands bite your back
when my head finds your chest
and your feet find my toes
when you're the reason of my laugh
and I'm the ear to your hopes
when I see joy in your eyes
and I'm the one to blame
when you show me you care
and your pleasure is my gain

...The more I write,
The more I wonder

How can I explain Sunlight?

it comes in threes
ruins of nothing and chaos
There's only one choice in the dark
And that is to become light

The first sparkles are shy
But they can see glimpses of colors it might find
The second glow is stirring
it does what it takes to rebuild what had been missing
With the third it's complete light
Warmth for hearts and lightness for minds
Ready to blossom, unconfined

No storm lasts forever
You can always look for shelter
Find a warm place to treasure

No storm lasts forever
You can always change your clothes
Ease your chills from the tempest's throes

But when the storm is in your heart,
it doesn't matter where you run to
You'll be staring at cloudy skies
Until the last piece of you fades inside

Not for all
Be careful not to look into the devil’s eyes
boldness might get you trapped
Eternal search for light
She gets burnt everyday to feel alive

You believe her steps will be impaired
by ordinary masks
Don’t be deceived,
she’s been through the enemies’ lands
and made a trophy out of scars
She's been too far

Now she knows the road
and the kind of you who don't honour her code

She holds the truth
Locked in her chest
You can’t break through
Her fort is for guests
Her soul is dressed
armoured by cast
steel

The most beautiful moon is impossible to gaze at.
For it almost touches the horizon, covered by our tall walls...
Those who don't have walls are vulnerable

And when we're vulnerable,
we                  

become the moon,

'Cause the most beautiful moon is impossible to gaze at.

I'm eager,
To rip you off my chest
With all the bleeding that would come with that
While I looked at the clock,
Slowly turning until it stopped.

Until it happens,
You'll be gripping the walls of my mind with your dark fingernails

The timeless sound of buzzing, sap and tweet
Winning over the rushing clock of Athens' heat
In the garden, souls rest their busy minds
while
the birds
and insects
make a mess of sounds with the wind

When some humans peacefully disrupt the humming for a second,
my mind goes to the clouds.
From where I see the character...
a chubby black bird playing with dry leaves on the ground. Or...is it looking for something? maybe a lost bright feather
to regain self confidence. In vain.
Cause little does it know what's not safeguarded can't remain.
I pity it for a while as my eyes take up the sunbathed trees
and the little creature gets even closer to me.

...Here's to say that if I've ever accomplished something in life,
that is not posing a threat to a chubby black bird in its pursuing rite.

and the spectacle background,
Grasshoppers, waxwings, dragonflies, swallows and bugs
try desperately to be successful in their appearance. But they need to resign themselves to their beautiful lack of musical coherence.

I'll get down from the clouds,
say goodbye to my courageous little friend
and head to thousands of years ago.
Good luck with your feather, bro

                    ...Well, maybe it was just looking for food after all.
                we, humans, tend to complicate everything when                we have our minds in the clouds...

The perfect union of the warmest sun and the most refreshing wind. Smiles of ex-strangers, just familiarized faces. Five minds and hearts, five vibrations and colors, an indistinct rainbow as travel companion. Life of self-absorbed villages in Kriti's heart, an old man sitting out the bar. Fast moving eyes, eager to get every single branch of olive trees passing by... and the leaves falling behind as a continual green stripe between the light brown soil and the sky. Rawness that bites our senses and leaves us a fragment of itself without losing its eternity. Greetings from the insignificance of our moment compared to the landscape's symmetry. And yet, for us, those minutes are sealed into mortal memory. Poor leaning trees, beat by the ceaseless wind that blows in the veins of the giant island... Spectacle of colours and shadows of a sunset surrounded by hypnotizing hills. Astros gradually showing off... first is the crescent moon and its perfect curves contrasting the dark blue/grey/orange skyline... then a lonely star whose brightness outshines alone, until the grey and orange decline. And only then, with the sun long gone, and your heart in your mouth, you understand why the trees were leaning down south.

The red box's encrypted lock
Wrapped around a shield of lessons learned and time-saving wisdom
When familiar notes disclose the long hidden boiling water

It is now a release of the smell of ginger,
Now a release of the humming of a playlist
Now a release of the taste of a golden perfume
Now a release of the touch of the sun
Now a release of the sight of the Pearl,
Of the girl...

And she is dragged into this pleasant hurricane

'Cause she knows is more human to taste the salt in her tongue than see grey all along

'Cause she finds pleasure and joy in the burning, bitter and blinding strike of light

"The ambiguous intensity of looking someone in the eye, which can feel simultaneously invasive and vulnerable."

Invasive?
Doesn't a deep gaze carry
numerous hooks disguised as unpretentious interrogation marks?
They're faster than the blink of the eyelids,
ambitiously break into the one in front,
stealing something
not for sale in the first place.

But, you just wanted to know
...just wanted to know that sparkling little piece of life behind the curtains of the iris
Then you suddenly find yourself apologizing
It was not your intention to set your noxious questions free,
hooks of someone else's life

Vulnerable?
You smell the eyes in front of you,
You see they can effortlessly listen to your thoughts, which have been screaming anyway, from the windows, of your soul.
Even those ignored little parts insist on showing off

You can almost physically feel it,
streams of dense water travelling
from the very core of your cells,
going up your veins,
holding your breath for a second when passing through your throat,
until it finally reaches your pupils' edge,
where they can bluster it out
and it's gone!
You're left with the hope
that the eyes in front of you haven't seen the spectacle.

Let my body be a battlefield for my soul.
Let my veins carry water
and mud.
Let my feet walk on air
and hot coals.
Let my eyes see infinity
and death.
Let my ears smile
with harmonious note
and bleed
with screaming throat
Let me be.
Let me be.
The fool.
The joker.

Sunlight would feed all moving creatures that day
But in that yellow building,
ice from yesterday's blizzard
still wrapped a stormy heart

It took a ride

Trees passing by
Must have been the things left behind
Delicate wind came intensely through the window
The horizon ahead, calls for whole bodies and souls,
not halves

first crack in the ice

Comfortably sit, nowhere to run
ears on the road
eyes having fun
One hand would hold the beer
The other shake impressions,
words, rhythms, melodies and questions
All sounds started to feel so clear

second crack in the ice

Such a difference
From the past usual indifference
No silence, no call-offs, no pride
And the unknown pieces of life
stroke the wall of ice

all down,

you were starting to calm the tides
but agitate the waves
it was the beginning of the warm age
Astonished, the seagull found out it was possible to turn into a trout
It seems like a great day
To go outside to play

The poem is a poet's food
Some are bread poems
Some are meat poems
Some are bread and meat poems
And some are the rare chocolate poems

She shall seek bread for energy
She shall seek meat for strength
She shall seek bread and meat for survival
And she shall seek chocolate for contemplation

The reason
chocolate poems are hard to find...

When the poet is well fed
she is ungrateful to poetry
Primary Needs scream louder
Contemplation only whispers joyful sounds

...and she must find time and silence to hear it

But that can wait,
first she will have a taste of the sandwich meal

They say the best poets are those with uninteresting lives
I say the best poets are those who eat the best food and choose to share their dessert

A bunch of anything
Doesn't make your everything

moving grounds
force you to fly

steady grounds
allow you to fly
                                                


                                                                               and come back anytime

She wished to have in mind that fleeting feasts
were enough to keep the journey heading West
All nothing but mistaken assumptions,
for her body and soul had no intent of being only guests

But as it's true and fair
Being at the moment must one not spare
For only in today should all passions take place
No space for nostalgic or jittery heart

But as it's still true and fair
No passion can be felt without depth and care
For only with pieces of honest present,
Collected and fervent hearts will dare

The repeated mistake, oh dear
Trusting
since no past and future are behold
It would be no bother the sudden cold

To do or not to do, you can never say
Like the shadows in a partly cloudy day
How will she decide
Whether to go outside to play or inside to stay?

What is war? Is it a soldier dying, or guns, or bombs, or crosses, or weeping mothers, or sport, or patriotism, or valor, or high paying jobs? What is war? Not hell. For that is merely evil. War is worse than evil. It is mind-boggling suicide --mass suicide-- with humankind devouring or trying to devour itself. In vain attemps to assuage some sort of weird, innate (and apparently insatiable) appetite nurtured by our true and beloved God, Mars, we will not settle for less than the "flower of evolution" as the main course, embellished by bountiful side dishes and fanciful shakers filled with the "fruits" of our marvelous hands and big starving brains. How long will we persist in this lethal nonsense? How long before we really believe that salvation lies not in an insane paradox fostered by brute and selfish gluttony, but in the far more "nutritious" and healthful viand in the sadly neglected garden of human compassion and understanding? Considering the status of brotherhood today, possibly too long.

By Jack Kervokian

Now I ask you to join me
Now you celebrate
Not being me. Not being you
Only Us for the great

UN
load!
DIS
arm!

EN
large!
OUT
side!

Some steps I will take
Be my guest
Pull your anchor
Out of the lake



We're
In the room
In the building
In the crowded city
In the country with thousands of cities
The country shares the continent with an enemy nation
The two rivals are carried round and round by the Earth's endless rotation
The Earth obeys the master’s magnetic line, burning since uncountable clock time
The sun is blind to his insignificance too, ignoring billions of other star mates, it can’t see through
Immeasurable it seems, magnifying! All of them such tiny little parts in one of Miss Milky’s arms
Some light years away there they are: Pinwheel, Cartwheel, Black Eye, Andromeda and Cigar
Unmeasurable it seems, humongous! All of them such a fading little part of the cosmos

There you are
Floating from a distance
Feel the empty ground
Drink from the fountain of existence

Still blind to insignificance?
Still convinced about the rightness of imposed beliefs?
Still judging others’ defects according to our pretentious and vain mind?
Still punching away the different, protecting the mold?
Still reinforcing illusory antagonism and insignia?
Still seeing only two sides?
Still holding to the pride?

Still
In the ******* room

Am I? Are you?
Let's try it again

2:28
Live
Feel
Recollect
State of enjoyment
Tranquility.

Words
are
Worth

Reality is simpler than it seems,
But it asks from you the clearest lens

Commonly what is seen, a Shadow:
                               Uncolored
                               Nebulous
                               Restrained
                               Empty
                               Achromatic
                               Larger
than you
in a sunny day of true september,
an external light however

Do not dress yourself by your shadow
Feel your body,
Feel the fabric,
Put it on
Take it off
and let your truly self decide between the blue scarf or the red hat.

Once
I used to read overjoyed thoughts lying
while my head would stand still, and my body
I used to read humble feelings with their short arms
trying to reach the velvet and fire.

They did not

I remember the time I looked through the glass
and did not get dressed to see the lights
I remember the day I spent at home
imagining the sounds and smiles I did not witness

But days ago,
something about that burning magmountain
made me pleased

An exhilarating drive
in my tongue, hands, eyes,
ears and me
Pleased I did not have a pen
Pleased I did not think
Pleased I did not lie
Pleased I pleased you

Around the square wooden table
                                  Shared friends toasting freedom
                                  The old soul of her
                                  With door-pointed feet
Yet she can feel the comfortable chair

                                  
                            ­       Outdoors a hurricane of
                                   honey and chips
                                   soup and beer
                                   Alegrete and Trairão
                                   distracts her out of the numbness
Yet the agreement with senseless is attained


Some brains try shouting her heart
- Why don't you keep your coma?
Too stubborn to place ears on the wall
Dancing with the wild winds


Indoors, the crowd smashing pens
- Why are you so self-centered you cannot hear us?
Poor curious heart taken by mistake
As the spirit of a heartless queen
                                              
                 ­                   Locked

Now the objects around
They are close to me, they touch me
But no, I cannot feel them with little space
Slowly sufocating, light speed irritating

Now the objects in orbit
They are distant, the wind can blow between us
But joy, I can feel them
I see them from the far spot
Light speed perceiving, slowly breathing

A chain of controversial versions of myself in a war;
It throws me back into this moment I use to call "I don't know what I'm doing"
One like me searches the perfect golden *** that is always around the corner.
What a big fancy house! Next minute it turns into dust
It makes me weaker every frustated trial, but you see... it's a circle
Suddenly I'm back surrounding the prize. God! excitement
Fantasy, shame on it!
I know what really makes you who you are, who you think you are. It says to me.
You need to set your darkness free, it will eat you up
Should I let the beast out?
Why do I keep locking it in if its only intent is cutting pieces of me, giving them to the hungry outsiders?
The answers are here, but I can't find them
I bet it'is because of your moral rules, my submission to your covered decent laws
Fantasy, shame on it!
Little monster go sponging another host.

Pity for the whole world now. I wasn’t enough suffering. And when I’m in, the little things become sun. They shine in my direction and they are so strong and they are so meaningful and they are so blue and noticing them is my tragedy.
I can feel the smooth wind hurting my face, why are you so gentle? You are joy of sadness, my simple need to cry out all the thorns inside, to exorcise shadows, to forget the wounds, even if they are not cured. Because when I’m in there is a grieving unknown, I can smell her, and I can see her, and I become so desperate, and I take her for me, and I like her for a moment. Then I regret it.
I feel different now, I feel repelled, I feel blind, deaf and mute. I just feel us
I pity the whole world now, I pity her
I have to leave it for a while because I’ve just forgot the wounds. For how long?

05/2011