#luis
"Sometimes I look up at the stars at night
And say,
Take me somewhere else, somewhere so far away I don't even remember this place
And let me look upon the face of the whole entire human Race
And find contentment in the insignificant things
Like a little Childs Laugh
Or tripping on the Trail Path
Before Steadying Myself With A Staff
And Thinking I Could've Fallen
But Didn't
And Then Think Back To The Time I Did
And Think Back To The Time We Played In The Spring Water
And Dried Off Inside
And Lived To Have Fun
Until the Fun Was Love
Because Of Age Approaching
And The Love Turned Sour
Obsessive and Reproaching
But I Still Loved You
As A Child
But Now I Am A Man
And Your Likely With Children
And I Have Been Seared By The Sting Of Silence
That Finds Solace In the Old Memories
And Wishes To Go Back To Them
Until The Thought That Things Could Be Better Now
If I Want Them To Be
I Could Have My Own
Slice Of Heaven
My Only Fear
Is
It Wouldn't Be The Same
And My Mind Might Convince Me It's Cheating To Let Go
Until I Find Joy In New Beginnings
Like the First Day Of School
Which Can Be Every Day
If We Let It Exist
And Resonate In It
And Realize We're All In the Same Boat
And Eat My Breakfast With A Smile On My Face
And Think Back to Playing Soccer On The Beach
Or Something Kind I Did A long Time Ago
That I Had Forgotten
And Giving You a Hug.
And Sleep
And In Dreams Return to the Stars, that Blind me
And I Wake up
In This Place, I Never Want To Leave
Until I realize,
The Real Game is Real Life
And The Strife And The Failures and The Mistakes Make The Rewards So Fitting
And I Take A Sip Of Tea
And Pretend I'm Jorge Luis Borges
Or Einstein, Or some Genius
And Then Remember, I'm Just Human
But I Can Create Wonderful Things
And My Greatest Strength
Is What The Next Day Brings...
A Memory from the Future
Watermarked In Time
May 24
May 24, 2026 at 6:05 PM UTC
spanish lyrics all over the
place
placeless
mental bubble
two cities
pending
looking for love
looking for the real one
ain't no fake talk:
looking for the real one
i'd die for you
i'd die for you
for real
Nov 17, 2019
Nov 17, 2019 at 6:13 PM UTC
"In vain have oceans been squandered on you, in vain
the sun, wonderfully seen through Whitman’s eyes.
You have used up the years and they have used up you,
and still, and still, you have not written the poem."
- Jorge Luis Borges
I did. All forty-five of it, with one person sneaking in between every line like waves persistently knocking on shores.
These poems will never meet the eyes of the one who guided my hands; the one who sung the melody to which my words danced.
Nov 2, 2015
Nov 2, 2015 at 9:27 AM UTC
I dream with my hands
While my tongue fails
And my pillow only gives me sleepdust.
I make dreams without labels or names,
Whose fences have already pervaded reality
And whose power dies again each generation.
I construct bridges between words
With stones that will weather
Even the fickle storms of men.
When mouths change the shape of “pyramid”
My vast triangles will still blot out the sun.
And when new peoples forget my name
The ancient eyes of my statue will still open
So that maybe in a distant moment a scholar will say
“He was once called Ozymandias, King of Kings”
All because I will have dreamt with my hands
Yo sueño con mis manos
Cuando mi lengua falla
Y la almohada me da sólo legañas.
Hago sueños sin etiquetas o nombres,
Cuyas vallas ya han impregnado realidad
Y cuya potencia muere otra vez con cada generación.
Construyo puentes entre palabras
Con piedras que aguantarán
Aun las tormentas volubles del hombre.
Cuando bocas cambian la forma de “pirámide”
Mis vastos triángulos borrarán el sol.
Y cuando pueblos nuevos olvidan mi nombre
Los ojos antiguos de mi estatua se abrirán
Para que quizás en un momento distante un erudito diría
“Una vez, se llamaba Ozymandias, rey de reyes”
Todo porque habré soñado con mis manos.
Apr 10, 2015
Apr 10, 2015 at 6:35 PM UTC