Eternal Schumann:
Your head was born
Between the shadow
Of your  ghost
Daffodil and echo
Always running around
into the wrong guideline
Of your love for Brahms
I think of you in the madhouse
Skinned by demons
And raised by the angels
You remind me of the gloomy manifestation
Of pure love
And every note
From the concert in La
Gloriously dragging
All that energy and ceiling,
All that contained love
Haunting your holy peace
Snatching the muse
Of the sublime and vertical fabric
From the truth ground to sticks.
It's a heartbreaking era
And the corpse of Schumann the terrible
Has been resting for a century
In dizzying memory
Of the human
Already impoverished
For the departure of God
And abandoned
To their fate
To the last cadence
That you did not write
In the first delirium
From schizophrenia




R.

I'm going to tell you an story:

At first
There was only
Fractals
And mysterious forces
That they wove them
On the delicate canvas
From the void.

Galactic Star Beings
Whose fingers and limbs
They danced in a swing
Dictated by the music of heaven

And there, in the middle of the fire of creation
Cosmic little seed, sigh
Hidden in the subsequent emulsion
From the juices of god
Spilling over
Free humanity
That barely light
Runs
Perpetual
Between the shelves of time
Drawing footsteps of all sizes
In all hemispheres,
distributed
Through latitudes, sown at the tip of Oz and the sword
Of a complex zoology
That of the human animal
Fire thief
Polyphonic heron of storms
Seabird that augurs stars

Because we are built
With feathers
That threw the phoenix and the albatross
On the holy land.

And bloom right in the middle
At the beginning of the war
When everything succumbs
And the ruin falls to pieces.

Little rainbow seed, your serpent tongue
Invoke the circular prayer of your abdomen
A sacred energy

Possessed in the word
You undress
Oracle of ******
Emitting a little moan
Barely cat

And overshadowed the man in his misery
Contemplate gods that understand nothing
Rejoice in tumultuous ecstasy
Of his exacerbated human games
Oh for the being of creation
The whole cosmos!

Sanctus and lux aeternam, in paradisum
No requiem bears your name, no bullet
Plus all my poems
No grave my epitaph
And i have died
More than a thousand times

Shake is to infinite prison of bones
The sacred words of the alseid
And the naiad of moisture
How jubilant
He gave his most beautiful flower to Priapus

And you who did not want to lose yourself
In the labyrinth of the Minotaur
When you offer
Your blood on lotus leaves
Worshiping Polyphemus, the lotus eaters
And to the cyclops in the same way
And me sitting in the middle of the odyssey
With headphones on
And the lost look
Thinking
When will the war happen?
When will the war happen?
When will the war happen?

R.