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  Jul 2017 naeuta
Pablo Neruda
I do not love you as if you were salt-rose, or topaz,
or the arrow of carnations the fire shoots off.
I love you as certain dark things are to be loved,
in secret, between the shadow and the soul.

I love you as the plant that never blooms
but carries in itself the light of hidden flowers;
thanks to your love a certain solid fragrance,
risen from the earth, lives darkly in my body.

I love you without knowing how, or when, or from where.
I love you straightforwardly, without complexities or pride;
so I love you because I know no other way

than this: where I does not exist, nor you,
so close that your hand on my chest is my hand,
so close that your eyes close as I fall asleep.
  Jun 2017 naeuta
Pablo Neruda
I want you to know
one thing.

You know how this is:
if I look
at the crystal moon, at the red branch
of the slow autumn at my window,
if I touch
near the fire
the impalpable ash
or the wrinkled body of the log,
everything carries me to you,
as if everything that exists,
aromas, light, metals,
were little boats
that sail
toward those isles of yours that wait for me.

Well, now,
if little by little you stop loving me
I shall stop loving you little by little.

If suddenly
you forget me
do not look for me,
for I shall already have forgotten you.

If you think it long and mad,
the wind of banners
that passes through my life,
and you decide
to leave me at the shore
of the heart where I have roots,
that on that day,
at that hour,
I shall lift my arms
and my roots will set off
to seek another land.

if each day,
each hour,
you feel that you are destined for me
with implacable sweetness,
if each day a flower
climbs up to your lips to seek me,
ah my love, ah my own,
in me all that fire is repeated,
in me nothing is extinguished or forgotten,
my love feeds on your love, beloved,
and as long as you live it will be in your arms
without leaving mine
naeuta Nov 2016
the best home to inhabit is one where there are no cares in this world, somewhere between dreams and reality, absurdity and rationality,
insanity, madness, asininity -
  somewhere, floating, engulfed in a pipe dream, the place you land when you’re about to go to sleep and you feel like you are falling.

the best home in the universe is the one where i did not care so much how people looked at me, my head was not sodden with insecurity, my voice not overwhelmed with timidity, and the world did not think of things this way.
perhaps you are the ruler of that kingdom.

truly, if heaven exists (and how i hoped it did)
it would be the place between dawn’s brightest day and dusk’s darkest night; a time when the sun had forgotten to set or the moon was shrouded with clouds and i had drunk too many coffees at three in the morning.

if heaven exists, it is somewhere deep below the depths of the sea where jupiter has lent its rings to protect us from the outer world, the one that exists beyond where we were floating.

where is our promised land? where is nirvana, elysium, paradise? it must be somewhere past these skies and far beyond this atmosphere.
a place not without sorrow but without prejudice, a place where this world did not despise and criticize and live in bigotry;
where we could stop ourselves from ruining ourselves, and where no poverty, war, or injustice exists any longer.
it is where my deepest thoughts reside, where my hopes dwelled and populated, and the lost dreams i had given up will live for as long as i do.

forever i had hoped to live in heaven, but in my heart i knew the only way i could get there was to die and i did not know if that was what i wanted.
i did not know whether that place existed at all.
naeuta Oct 2016
i haven’t said a word in fifty-three years
no, i told not a soul what i felt
i crumbled dreams like paper notes and
when i spoke i felt my own heart melt.

while you so declared your own ravaging fancies,
shouted like a song
a voice of purity, clear as glass
somehow, you were always wrong.

no, i am not bold, externally;
though my thoughts roared so loudly in my head
and when i put my words on paper
i could say what i wanted to be said.
my thoughts were so much louder than my words that
my head was almost deafened by their sound

perhaps i’d rather dwell in my imagined tales
than the sweet syllables i had almost found.
i dreamed, like you, to speak so clearly,
so greatly, and with such confidence;
but i mumbled, and so sillily
slurred vowels into consonants.
i dwelled in mere introversion so much that
when i opened my mouth to speak
i was held in great aversion, complete and utter disconcertion
and i could not tell you why.

indeed, i may be full of anxieties
but truly it did not matter to me, because
alone is not lonely
alone is not lonely
and i am not alone.
naeuta Oct 2016
you were a clock always ticking and
the beat of your heart a metronome
you were a bomb and
i did not know when you might burst.
you were combustible
an incendiary grenade
and i was the gasoline
to your wildfires.

you were at war with the world
your mind a battleground
and i cried when you asked me
whether i wondered if life was worth living
perhaps because
i myself did not know

when i went to bed at three in the morning
i still woke up in the middle of the night
i dreamt my heart had burst open, ripped at its seams
still beating faster than death could seize our time on this earth
i asked you why it was that
life is this way

you were an hourglass
trying make to time stand still.
and while i went to every corner of the world
to buy each and every clock that existed,
still, i did not know how to stop it for you.
i did not know how to save a life
when i could not live my own

you were a ticking time bomb,
ready to explode;
and i could not clip the wires
of your mind.
naeuta Sep 2016
i talk to my shadow, for he is my friend.
i walk with my shadow; he's there till the end.
i spoke to him the things i reveal to no one else,
the silly little secrets that no one ever tells.

truly, what could i say?
he was the one that never went away.
he was with me on the treetops, under the light of the moon,
through the clashing and smashing, that sad afternoon.
he's the friend i cried to when i had no other -
no sister, no brother, no father, no mother.

"but i loved them wholeheartedly,"
that's what i'd say,
yet my friends did not love me in the very same way.
thank you, dear shadow, for being with me.
you, unlike the others, are not such an absentee.
naeuta Sep 2016
dear love, you’re a liar
and nothing you’ve told me has been true
you’ve told me silly things,
oh, pretty things, too.

blue, blue, blue
that’s what i see when i think of you
i see blue skies and blue hearts -
i see the night, the early morning, the wishing-washing warning.

“and when we both look at the moon at exactly 11:52,
i’ll finally be next to you,
no longer separated by distance, but both seeing the same sight,
together, together, in the blue, blue night.”

oh love, you’re like art - you’re smart, in such ways i do not know.
but love, you’re a liar
and for you, i refuse to grow tired
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