Where do I find a poem?
In the space of a blink,
Between heartbeats,
When idle or moving,
With family and friends,
In a cemetary,
At school,
On a beach,
On-line,
On a bench, sitting beside me.
In the four seasons,
Beneath the blue, black and starry canopy,
In the wild, sapian or worldly,
In the arts and prophets,
Crawling on the floor,
When I'm cooking;
And, when I'm not looking,
A poem will find me.

The horror echoes in the neglected nooks
between the stained walls of my heart,
smeared in dust and smoke, the mirror tells many truths,
the impermanence, the impermanence of it all,
Hope takes a minute to die,
forever even lesser.

To love is to lay naked with a bullet in his hand,
the heart pounding and bleeding the fallacies,
of love and of hope and of dreams and of every false sunset,
stinking of what we never had and what we will never have.

We die the moment we believe, we believe it lasts,
all in all grows another wallflower
and dies before you notice.

Infinity? Eternity? the shallow truths we made
just to live a little, just to live on.
There is no door, there is no key,
no secret and no escape,
no soul and no mate, no blue and no red,
There never was more than lies
just to live a little, just to live at all.