I wanted to enlist as an army babe, but i can take-care-of-my-self,
stay healthy as a tree, no more frantic order's like "Smeeeaaaag?!?"
Just a girl who wanted to be a penguin and swim free,
of the trap of an incomplete mind.

Walls of neutral yellow and beige, as a
sunflower soaks the rays of,
seasonal depression;

lost in this endless sea of confusion.
Is there really dedication, reflects blue eyes of Lilies socket's,
does Eternity really exist?

As a blown kiss,
a wishing well
fish.

The heart is the only gate,
gushing feelings and
simple beatings,
masks this face of shy Grace.

As thundering pride takes over,
build a dynasty and touch the heavens,
Lifted,
as dove on wings, crowned in Gold,
I've found the Soul.

In the lake this treasure keeps
as a door swings open,
step'n on through to morning.
Finding super power's at twilight daze,
****** onto the writer's play.

Perhaps we are ´´parte de tus sueños'' (part of your dreams)
And something is calling for you,
But, certainly, you are one of everyone's dreams
And that beautiful melancholy of yours
Is a source of sounds deeply touching, inspiring, magical,
For life'' and for '' El Amor'' (love)
Remaining inside all of us.
A divine vibration is healing the deep wounds
In a dance of sung irresistible words,
Which may recreate your image
In our minds and souls,
Especially, when we want to ''Passar Di Mano'' (pass a hand) feeling.
Wind, apparently, dissolved the melodious words
In the rustle of leaves, in the sound of rain applause,
In those ''Momenti '' (moments) of ''Me olvid de vivir'' (I forgot to live)
And in the rain drops falling on the leaves
And falling over our faces to mix with our tears,
When you start to sing ''Por el amor de una mujer'' (the love for a woman)
Wanting to tell her ''Abrazame''(embrace me)
Your dreams become sad pieces of quasars,
To disappear in the cosmic symphony
And in a dazzling play of colors.
Our bodies begin to move harmoniously,
The fairy moonlight gives a shine to our eyes.
We begin to hear a crescendo sound in the instruments,
Apparently without limits,
For ''Baila Morena'' and for '' Boleros''.
Finally,
The loneliness is hiding in your own shadow,
Allowing the silence to speak.

I miss
I miss the nights when things were different
I miss the nights when I asked what pokémon you caught
not what STD you got
I miss the fridays when we asked what you were doing
not, who you were *******
The nights when it was about us
and not them
the nights when we smiled
not cried
Why is it
why is it we want to grow up
instead of living
because before we know it
there wont be any time left to live
and we’ll be wishing to have it back
missing the nights when things we different
the nights when I didn’t have to worry about
losing you
the nights when you remember
what happened
the nights when
you didn’t have to ask others
what happened
when will it end
the nights when
you don’t come home
you don’t call for a ride
and you don’t come back.
because one day
people will be saying
boy I knew her when
when things were different
the nights when partying
meant cake and weird hats
not drugs and bad tat’s
all I’m trying to say is not
how to live your life
but to live your life
people say you only live once
thats true
but
you only die once
don’t make that once
because you were young
and stupid
remember
remember the days when
you could walk yourself to the car
the nights when drinking
meant juice
and higher
meant on a swing
and the only thing getting baked
were cookies.
Now
the twisted meanings
are your life
were your life
when the nights
were different.

The joker lives close by, right under my skin
That is stretched tight over to hide him
My lips full and red smile to cover his grin
My voice sings and twitters to chide him

Touch my body, his shell, touch and feel: he is in
Never ask he rides me or I ride him
With his flesh brazen brass and his nerves tinkling tin
He craves Solomon's wisdom to guide him

He wanders with clouds with no home and no kin
Just the joker and shadow beside him

Words come to you in silent strings
Then mingle and mix, go piggyback
Go ring-o-roses, round the garden
Then they sing
Go drumming barefoot
On clammy clay
In a far-off land
Oh where?
Just look
Behind your eyes
Inside your skull
There is
No-place
That doctors look
For
Years and years
But find just sliced brain –
Some body tissue, fat, and blood
And marvel gone.

The razorblade of wind has cut the lisping night
And sent the sun up
In the east
The mountains idle glowing
In morning's sundust storm
I see the restless leaves reflecting seas of light
As tiny trembling mirrors
But in my mind will rest
The pitch- black sea with roads of boatlights
And pale Old Man as from a Tarot card
His wizard smile
In still and tender dark
In rustles of shadows
The Moon
       The eye of daytime action
                     the
                          tor
                              n­a
                                  do

04/2003

Slow snowflakes, idly sifted over bridges
Can't cover lead-gray river running still
Rare works of art, brittle stars of airy frill
Melt silently on waves or heap on icy ridges.

The wind holds each and tosses at its will;
Each flake alone, in snowstorm wall unseen
Flies, falls, and vanishes -- as well as never been
For ever more burst down from toiling mill.

This twilight snowstorm time to think what wakes
Frail, fleeting beauty seen in people, clouds, and flakes.