AMBROSIA

Nectar, delicacies of life,
delights, sublime pleasures.
Devouring the ambrosias,
that life which is ambrosia.
That life which costs so much,
that dear life to maintain.
Life full of fine joys.
That life which costs so much,
to leave it against our will.
Lives of the luxury of living,
that scatter,
in the years, days.
Time to live,
fear of dying,
of leaving pleasure.
Sublime pleasures.
Delicate, soft,
silk feathers,
caged lives.
Fears of dying,
of crossing borders.
Between lines, lives,
between the whole and something,
everything goes away in the end.
Too much joy,
to know how to leave,
and take the step,
to arrive
at the destination,
death,
is the end,
of everything.
Meanwhile,
the luxury of living,
of the pleasures,
earthly days,
mundane lives.
The now and later,
God will say when,
in the meantime,
balanced,
in the luxury
of living.
---
Neuchâtel, Switzerland

A MY OWN RHYTHM

In the dusty world,
I feel that turbulent moment,
moments of wind, a slow compass.
Gradually raising the movement,
creating fragments of my own drum,
in the irreverent moment to jump and let go.
Throwing off ballast, leaving exhaustion outside,
pleasant instants of wind in the air.
In the heat of August, being the center,
like the cement that unites music,
in that violent and audacious rhythm.
Between unreal scraps,
the rhythm progresses.
Hearing,
the rhythm of the wind,
that wind of the heart,
drumming with fingers.
Peeling the body from everything,
leaving laments behind,
in the waves of oneself.
I feel the noise,
converted,
into music.
Happy,
turbulent,
first, slow.
The rhythm growing.
Beating on the stairs,
unreal moment to dance,
the heart sets the tempo,
and everything begins to turn.
Turning the soul,
in its concert,
in its music.
cadences,
of waves.
Music
that grows,
more intense.
the soul dances,
the heart jumps,
beats, in strokes.
The rhythm of living,
first slow,
then fast,
in the days,
that leave,
slowly.
and then,
fast,
light,
until.
the end
The rhythm,
of living,
that noise,
accompanied,
in my rhythm,
every day,
at last.

ANOTHER LIFE

I don't need to be anything
to be myself.
I am not a gentleman,
nor do I pretend to be.
Just a shadow,
who was happy once,
without knowing it, I had happiness,
those days with the love
of my loved ones.
The treasure that left,
death took them away.

So long ago,
through others,
I lived well,
I watched you,
in my life,
and I was happy
to have you
by my side.

They were my life.
They were there,
with me.
They were everything,
all that was necessary
to be happy.
To be full,
to be satiated
every day.
Then I filled
the absences
with things,
and that
was not
mine.
That life,
did not fill,
did not satiate,
I did not buy
happiness,
I did not fill it
with what was valuable.
So many things
were not
mine.
And life
was nothing,
with so much,
and in the end.
Everything
for
nothing.

A PLASTIC GARDEN

In August, in that plastic garden,
among artificial flowers, the dead rest.
In the cemetery, where every day there is a burial.
Frantic activity in one of Madrid's many cemeteries.
Where a few of us visit the remains of those who lived.
While life goes on and the time will come,
we will rest in peace.
In the summer,
while Spain burns,
while everything goes to the precipice,
while life trembles outside the tombs.
Among substitute flowers, life flickers and wakes up,
bees looking for the nectar of life in plastic flowers.
Life is a plastic garden in the holy ground,
among insects and birds life flies,
in the necropolis there is peace,
beauty in everything,
just look,
and you will see,
life.

A Romantic Story

Between brushes, between birds,
life unfolds.
In a place far from everyone's sight.
Among poems of the sea,
on solid ground.
Life,
that life,
that goes away,
in the heat,
of August.
In the summer,
in the sun's heat,
he has a life,
a secret life,
that no one
imagines.
The world,
between walls,
is the life of that man,
a failed,
rich man,
immaterial,
he has everything,
of everything,
and of nothing.
He asks for no more,
with his animals,
that's enough for him, with a walk,
down winding paths.
So much work to be nothing,
getting poorer and happier,
he consumes yesterday's wealth,
happy with the little road left to travel.
A romantic life of love and flowers,
where life is a pure dream,
among delicate poems,
a sublime life,
in misery.
In the end he goes,
the door,
closed,
and no one
felt it.
A failure,
a romantic life,
a dreamer,
now far from everyone,
and finally he flew, without suffering,
to a better place still.
And he never returned,
the sweet dream
of death.
A dead poet,
who wasn't even a poet,
nor lived reality.
And the walls,
closed,
and no one,
returned,
there.

In the twilight of my years,
in the deep hours of dawn,
I let myself fall into the air, and let go of all.
I close my eyes, and turn to the stars,
those that adorn my sky on four walls.
And sometimes I climb to the rooftop, and let the air kiss me,
and I feel so companioned by the stars,
and all loses its import by night.
A summer's night, amidst dreams,
in my nocturnal rest,
amongst my music.
Amongst caresses,
in the air,
that air that kisses,
when no one else does.

15-7-2025

At Last:

The day's end has come,
let's head back home.
To receive hugs,
let's give those kisses,
it's today's celebration.

The day concluded,
caresses arrive,
in the sweet home.
With so much love,
amidst the fire,
in your home,
the coolness,
of the breeze,
of love.

Welcome,
to your house,
with love,
to enjoy,
it's the party,
of life.

It's the family,
with the children,
with your friends,
in well-being.
That is happiness,
enjoy the home,
and life will smile upon you,
in sweet love.

In the home,
of fire,
of living,
warm,
life,
with
cold
and
heat.

"Yes, life is simple… but it can also be fabulous."
July 23, 2025

CAROUSEL
In my Ferris wheel, spinning, turning,
in life's madness,
in art.
The art of drawing out days,
the art of surviving ourselves.
Stories,
between silver and gold, by day and by night.
Turning through life,
observing.
Looking without seeing, at times.
Unraveling tangled chains,
Between lines and curves,
creating,
those days,
passionate,
navigating,
through the air,
drowned,
in the sea,
blood,
rivers,
giving,
that art,
from here,
from there.
Art,
my art,
your art,
all,
or
nothing,
to flow.
In everything,
your art,
reflections,
of life,
recreating.
In my Ferris wheel,
sometimes I fall,
dizzy,
giving,
everything,
I believe,
divine,
human,
reflections,
creation.
Without a net,
loose,
my art.
That thing,
so mine,
without success,
without fear
to be brilliant,
to be nothing,
it all matters not,
to create for creation's sake.
I drown,
each day,
I breathe,
from worse,
to worse,
despite,
I cast art,
those lines,
that I spit.
With blood,
sometimes water,
salt from my sea.
For no one,
for me,
I play,
I spin,
I turn,
within me,
dizzy,
on my carousel,
that which inspires,
that which kills me.
Giving everything,
on the edge,
of everything,
or almost,
art,
mine,
endless.
unreal,
or real,
unlimited.
Breathless,
pure image,
imagination,
overflowing,
drowned,
in Art.
it kills me,
not to give
everything,
endlessly.
Carousel,
circular,
of light,
within me,
unique,
endless,
despite,
my end.
Creating
life in you,
immaterial,
poisoning,
with art your life.
Create your dreaming,
in your Ferris wheel.
carousel,
of your life

CARRUSEL
En mi noria, girando, dando vueltas,

en la locura de la vida,

en el arte.

Arte de ir tirando días,

arte de sobrevivir a nosotros mismos.

Historias,

entre la plata y el oro, de día y de noche.

Dando vueltas por la vida,

observando.

Mirando sin ver a veces.

Deshaciendo los ovillos de las cadenas,

Entre líneas y curvas,

creando,

esos días,

apasionados,

navegando,

por el aire,

ahogados,

en la mar,

sangre,

ríos,

dando,

ese arte,

de aquí,

de allá.

Arte,

mi arte,

tu arte,

todo,

o

nada,

fluir.

En todo,

tu arte,

reflejos,

de la vida,

recreando.

En mi noria,

a veces caigo,

mareado,

dando,

todo,

Creo,

divino,

humano,

reflejos,

creación.

Sin red,

suelto,

mi arte.

Esa cosa,

tan mía,

sin éxito,

sin miedo

a ser genial,

a no ser nada,

da igual todo,

crear por crear.

Me ahogo,

cada día,

respiro,

de peor,

en peor,

a pesar,

tiro arte,

esas líneas,

que escupo.

Con sangre,

a veces agua,

sal de mi mar.

Para nadie,

para mí,

juego,

giro,

vueltas,

en mí,

mareado,

en mi carrusel,

ese que inspira,

ese que me mata.

Dando todo,

en el borde,

de todo,

o casi,

arte,

mío,

sin fin.

irreal,

o real,

ilimitado

Sin aliento,

pura imagen,

imaginación,

desbordante,

ahogado,

en Arte

me mata,

no dar

todo,

sin fin.

Carrusel,

circular,

de luz,

en mí,

único,

sin fin,

a pesar,

de mi fin.

Creando

vida en ti,

inmaterial,

envenenando,

con arte tu vida.

Crea tu soñar,

en tu noria.

carrusel,

de tu vida.

CHRONIC CRYOGENIC

Poor thoughts, that die with me,
a mortal with airs of eternity.
Pretentious vanity,
and all for what?
to be dust.
Enamored dust,
of my own dreams,
like a romantic poet,
outside of my own time.
Too much self-love,
I want to freeze everything,
I will preserve everything,
everything valuable.
I'll let myself rot,
but I'll freeze my words,
I want to cryogenize my thoughts.
Too much in love with myself,
not to think of saving the best,
the best, those thoughts.
Prose in verses,
of air.
I will be a priest,
and I will sacrifice myself for Art,
I will cryogenize my soul in poems.
I will write tirelessly, while I still breathe.
I will do alchemy and preserve my life,
in those philosophical words,
preserves of poems,
chronicles of life,
of my life.
I will be a sick man,
a chronically sick man of living,
until the end comes to everything.
I am a chronic cryogenic of eternity,
that eternity that does not exist on earth, nor is it possible.
I will clone my poems in you,
you will be a clone of my words,
they will absorb you and revive you when you read them.

Words from a cold heart when it lived.
Words in the networks, in books, in diaries, on paper,
to float beyond the death of a frozen soul.
Chronicles of someone hated and revered when they lived,
someone who left no one indifferent wherever they went,
who loved himself so much that he cryogenized his poems,
only to be forgotten, without any remedy.
No one can conquer death,
but there is always the illusion
of donating something valuable,
a poisoned gift,
to be read,
to be enjoyed,
or, to be hated.
Cryogenic,
chronic
of living,
perhaps,
maybe,
it could
be.

CLICHÉS

Pre-packaged loops, reheated ideas,
grateful bellies, guts well-fed.
Ideas that repeat, never scratching the surface.
Fools ignorant of their own ignorance,
who think they are wise, and only repeat clichés.
An education that just manufactures and brainwashes,
a factory of dimwits, of slaves; it’s an agenda.
Created imbecilities that repeat endlessly.
The mantras of some are very good, saints,
the mantras of others are very bad, evil.
History is reheated and changed endlessly,
when foolishness becomes the general norm.
Capitalism and Marxism united in crusades,
the new global war of the gods explodes.
In a world where knowing is of no interest,
knowledge forbidden to the useful slaves,
people who repeat preconceived ideas.
Slaves of our time, ignorant,
the narratives will be changed again and again.
Reality doesn't matter; reality is fabricated,
imbeciles who believe they are libertarians.
Poor souls that have been snatched away,
those transgenics, manipulated humans.
A world of gods who give lessons,
a world of degenerates of all kinds.
Stupids in charge of a burning ship,
moral degenerates, intellectual fools.
A world of mediocrity at full speed,
the agenda is the kingdom of imbecility.
The kingdom of darkness and lies arrives,
everything leads to human degradation,
the end of times, lies in everything.
A degenerate society, heading for the end.
Humans who believe they are gods of evil.

Daydream (Ensoñación)
Drowsy unto death,
brimming with imagination,
I walk among the clouds.
My eyes close, and I drift away.

Between the heavens,
lulled in my own mist,
I leave all behind, lost in the haze.
Between day and night, in the twilight,
everything unfolds slowly, and I glide
between vaporous clouds and the shining stars.

Exiting the body,
gazing at those remains from afar,
far, so far from my vestiges, I ascend,
flying to another world, that world of pure daydream.

That intimate world,
a world solely mine,
where senses are lulled,
my thinking self asleep.

In that rare moment,
in my ensoñación,
I can see myself,
and take flight,
soaring.

Departing,
bodiless, unchained,
within reality, there are crevices
to leave all behind,
and dream of flight.

In peace,
in my peace,
in my calm,
in total serenity,
between waking,
between dreams,
a dreaming soul.

---
ENSOÑACION
Muero de sueño,

lleno de imaginación.

Andando entre las nubes,

se me cierran los ojos y despego.

Entre los cielos,

adormecido en mi vapor,

dejó todo atrás, en la neblina.

Entre el día y la noche, en la tarde,

todo se hace lentamente y me desplazo,

entre las nubes de vapor y las estrellas brillantes.

Saliendo del cuerpo,

mirando esos restos desde lejos,

lejos,  muy lejos de mis despojos, me elevo,

volando a otro mundo, ese mundo de la ensoñación.

Ese mundo íntimo,

un mundo solo mío,

adormecidos los sentidos,

adormecido mi ser pensante.

En ese raro momento,

en mi ensoñación,

puedo verme,

y despegar,

volando.

Marchando,

sin cuerpo, sin ataduras,

entre la realidad, hay resquicios,

para dejar todo atrás,

y soñar con volar.

En paz,

en mi paz,

en mi calma,

en calma total,

Entre la vigilia,

entre los sueños,

un alma soñadora.

Daydream


Floating in life,
sometimes moments of pleasure,
seducing life.
Loving sometimes, in love,
along the paths.
Feeling goosebumps,
being true.
Without fear, no fear to fly,
to speak my words.
Building with my love,
those things for everyone.
Giving the best of me,
amidst my storms.
Among my moments of light,
sometimes I can float.
Cadences of my times,
elevating my soul.
In my time being myself,
without wishing to lie.
Sometimes rocked within me,
a daydream of one.
Sometimes unbearable, I know,
but sometimes seductive.
There are moments for everything,
to try to be one.
Moments to take off,
detached from the body.
Far from the material, mystical,
dreaming of being light.
Illusion of transcending oneself,
floating far from myself.
Moments for miracles,
to be a little better.
To give priceless love,
to see the stars.
Moments for daydreaming,
measures of well-being.
Far from the harsh reality of living.
Searching for myself,
appreciating that walk along the path.

------
FLOTANDO

Flotando en la vida,

a veces momentos de placer,

seduciendo la vida.

Amando a veces, enamorado,

por los caminos.

Sintiendo que la piel se eriza,

siendo verdadero.

Sin temor, ni miedo a volar,

a decir mis palabras.

Construyendo con mi amor,

esas cosas para todos.

Regalando lo mejor de mí,

entre mis tormentas.

Entre mis momentos de luz,

a veces puedo flotar.

Cadencias de mis tiempos,

elevando mi alma.

En mi tiempo siendo yo,

sin desear mentir.

A veces mecido en mí,

ensoñación de uno.

A veces inaguantable, lo sé,

pero a veces seductor.

Hay momentos para todo,

para intentar ser uno.

Momentos para despegar,

despegado del cuerpo.

Lejos de lo material, místico,

soñando con ser luz.

Ilusión de transcender de uno,

flotando lejos de mí.

Momentos para los milagros,

para ser un poco mejor.

Para regalar amor sin precio,

para ver las estrellas.

Momentos para la ensoñación,

compases de bienestar.

Lejos de la dura realidad de vivir.

Buscando a mí mismo,

apreciando ese andar por el camino.

Don't be afraid, my love.

Feel the breeze that beats the heart,
for a moment, let the soul's breeze float.
Put the bad things away and forget the bad times past.
Come to Paradise, that of kind words.
Let's leave the war far from everything,
perfume everything with peace and love.
Feel all the happiness,
That's it, it comes and goes.
Caresses of life,
sweet sensitivity.
With a glass of water,
immerse yourself in the freshness,
of a never-ending party.
In the world, the one that flourishes,
wonders sprout everywhere.
Let the softness of life love you,
feel the sun surround you in warm caresses.
Feel the message of love in the songs of the birds.
Moments for the soul's rest, in the sea of days.
Melodies of words to lull you sweetly,
my soft song, that which resonates in your soul,
an intimate song that hearts treasure.
Fold away the sorrows and bring out the happiness,
make life dawn,
make the days delicious.

Songs so that everything goes well,
love letters that are just kisses from the heart.
Bits of happiness that fly straight to the souls,
omens of good days, where everything flourishes until the end.
Whispering in your ears, messages in bottles of good wishes,
forget the tears, and make laughter contagious every day.
No matter what happens, feel that there are always drops of happiness floating,
that perfume that anoints us when we least expect it.
Create an aura where everything shines golden around you,
listen to the gentle melody of well-being.

Don't be afraid, everything will be fine if there is love,
that pure love that floods souls.
Bubbles of happiness in bottles,
uncorked bottles,
that spill,
good days.
With love,
bubbles of pleasure,
happiness that spills over.
Poems from one heart to others,
sickly sweet happiness to stick to everyone.
Creating an epidemic of happiness,
don't be afraid that you might get infected,
happiness is always good.
Contagious love in bottles,
bottles of bubbles,
uncorked
with love for you.
Caresses of love,
to kiss you,
pure kisses,
of endless love,
are my bubbles,
those poems of love.
Tears that turn,
into the perfume of spilled love,
where the heart receives the essence of happiness.
Words of love for hearts to dance in an embrace.
A balm of love to nourish your heart with bubbles of happiness.

Dragnet

Today I've taken your net and I'll drag you,
to the world of poetry without muses,
without artifice, without deceit.
I will trap you and you will be you,
stop dreaming,
listen to yourself,
hear yourself,
once and for all,
and bring out the best,
the dazzling.

Stop running away,
and get in the mud,
that clay of a ***** life.
Flee from the day to day and go outside,
reach the ecstasy of your olympus,
transcend, aspire to so much more.
Stop thinking that everything is about rhyming,
stop the *******, and bring out the best,
forget everything you've learned and be real.

Stop that mocking laugh, for crying so much blinds you,
listen to your body, and tell what matters to you.
Tear up all your poems, and start over,
again and again, and reread your broken ones.
Fly beyond stoves and chairs,
bring out what you have so deep inside.

In your dragnet, search,
for that which you don't know is there
And just think, everything comes,
the poem is you,
the sublime.
Stop living a bad life,
and let everything flow,
in the small lies the great.

And one day your gray hairs will be snow
of poems in August, on horses of light,
that blind with so much beauty, in your final sun.
In the net of sea and sun, where the old will be reborn endlessly,
where beauty will begin again and again in endless poems.

Forget everything,
start anew,
strip yourself of the useless,
listen to your heart,
it will speak to you in verse,
and the snow will melt
into warm poems.
Seek the miracle,
of believing in yourself,
immerse yourself,
in the net,
of fishing,
unique poems,
to hang them wherever you want.

In the streets of a city without sea,
sometimes, ghostly vessels appear,
moored to the streets on the asphalt.
Strange, astonishing presences,
those sailboats with their white canvases,
boats large and small, a thousand colors.
awaiting arrival at a better harbor.

Story of a dryland city,
with that Manzanares river, waterless,
with that river they dried up one day.
That city that is Madrid, gray,
amidst the dust and so much dirt,
in those streets where I wander,
boats on wheels, parked.

Vessels that once sailed,
waters of rivers, reservoirs, and seas.
While their owners dream
of happy hours embarked,
atop those hulking contraptions.

In the strange city, Madrid,
where everything is sometimes possible,
sometimes I walk beside sailboats,
like horses awaiting water.
In those streets, there are no pedestrians anymore,
where only the asphalt roars in summer.
While I melt in the July heat.
While I watch life pass and don't look back,
where nothing matters, because I am fungible,
among parked sailboats waiting to sail.

Between my seas of dreams and nightmares,
in that nightmare they call Madrid,
while I await better times.
Sometimes I see boats in the streets,
walking to go to the opera,
to go to the paradise of the theater.


----

BARCOS DE SECANO

En las calles, de una ciudad sin mar,

a veces, aparecen  fantasmales naves,

amarradas a las calles en el asfalto.

Extrañas presencias asombrosas,

esos veleros con sus blancas telas,

barcos y barquitos de mil colores.

en espera de llegar a mejor puerto.

Historia de una ciudad de secano,

con ese Manzanares sin aguas,

con ese río que secaron un día.

Esa ciudad que es Madrid, gris,

entre el polvo y tanta suciedad,

en esas calles donde me paseo,

barcos sobre ruedas aparcados.

Naves que surcaran alguna vez,

aguas de ríos, pantanos y mares.

Mientras sueñan sus propietarios,

con  horas felices  embarcados,

a lomos de esos armatrostes.

En  la ciudad extraña, Madrid,

donde todo es posible a veces,

a veces camino al lado de veleros,

como caballos que esperan aguas.

En esas calles no hay ya peatones,  

donde solo ruge el asfalto en verano.

Mientras me derrito en el calor de Julio.

Mientras veo pasar la vida y no miro atrás,

donde da igual todo, porque soy fungible,

entre veleros aparcados esperando navegar.

Entre mis mares de sueños y de pesadillas,

en esa pesadilla que llaman  Madrid,

mientras espero tiempos mejores.

A veces veo barcos por las calles,

caminando para ir a la ópera,

para ir al paraíso del teatro.


---

En las calles, de una ciudad sin mar,
a veces, aparecen fantasmales naves,
amarradas a las calles en el asfalto.

Extrañas presencias asombrosas,
esos veleros con sus blancas telas,
barcos y barquitos de mil colores,
en espera de llegar a mejor puerto.

Historia de una ciudad de secano,
con ese Manzanares sin aguas,
con ese río que secaron un día.

Esa ciudad que es Madrid, gris,
entre el polvo y tanta suciedad,
en esas calles donde me paseo,
barcos sobre ruedas aparcados.

Naves que surcaron alguna vez,
aguas de ríos, pantanos y mares.
Mientras sueñan sus propietarios,
con horas felices embarcados,
a lomos de esos armatrostes.

En la ciudad extraña, Madrid,
donde todo es posible a veces,
a veces camino al lado de veleros,
como caballos que esperan aguas.

En esas calles no hay ya peatones,
donde solo ruge el asfalto en verano.
Mientras me derrito en el calor de Julio.
Mientras veo pasar la vida y no miro atrás,
donde da igual todo, porque soy fungible,
entre veleros aparcados esperando navegar.

Entre mis mares de sueños y de pesadillas,
en esa pesadilla que llaman Madrid,
mientras espero tiempos mejores.

A veces veo barcos por las calles,
caminando para ir a la ópera,
para ir al paraíso del teatro.

---
ADENDUM
One Poem, Two Versions


ADENDA

Un mismo poema en dos versiones

Empty Bottles

Messages,
from the heart.
Slowly I go,
and I fade away,
and everything will end for me,
while that heart,
continues tenacious, beating
Sending messages.
Empty bottles,
reaching no one,
they have no destination,
nor an end.
Messages,
impossible,
Broken letters,
in empty bottles,
that will not fill with love,
that longed-for and sought-after heart.

Messages in broken bottles,
from a broken heart,
messages without destination,
love that doesn't arrive,
love of nothing.
Hearts,
that search,
for that message,
that will never arrive.
Poems in sad bottles,
messages that crumble into tears,
hearts trapped in their desires,
that don't know how to reach others,
love encapsulated,
in the void,
of nothingness.
Sad love,
in messages
of my poems,
broken messages.
Shipwrecked of love,
broken messages.

Endless Party

Always the same, too much of a party,
in the end it always ends the same.
Lots of partygoers, and me there alone,
what's the point of going to parties.
Why do they invite me,
too much of a party,
for nothing,
in the end alone,
on the edge,
with a drink.
A ******,
very strange,
at a party.
Patent leather
shoes,
bow tie,
velvet.
So much dressing up,
to be alone,
I feel withdrawn,
a misogynist at the zoo.
I always say, I won't go back,
but in the end, I always do.
Following my footsteps, and again,
I fall, disguised as elegant,
the most chic at the party,
the one everyone looks at,
and no one talks to,
I shun them.
On the edge,
of a drink,
thousands looked at,
and everyone talks,
and you know it doesn't matter.
Disconnected from everyone,
a stranger, inaccessible.
Always well-dressed,
a nice velvet
jacket,
tailored,
tuxedo,
silk
shirts.
A thousand ways,
to go in gala,
to dress elegantly,
to dress up, for nothing,
always the same, misanthrope,
anti-social in a tuxedo, incommunicado,
who dances among everyone and always pretends,
in a foreign fishbowl, a bear out of place, not knowing,
not knowing how to behave and be one of them.
In a transparent bubble,
too shy,
to live.
Unsociable,
in society,
a life disaster.
Without social skills,
on the edge of his drink, he just watches,
from the corner of his eye everyone looks at him,
and no one knows,
what a bear
is doing,
in a fishbowl.
Alone among so many,
loneliness in a crowd,
and at the end of the party alone,
I leave as lonely as I arrived.

Envy

Always lurking,
those glances,
that ****,
envy.

Observing,
what they will never have,
always looking to suffer.

Searching for what they don't possess,
those empty lives,
that have no life.

Lives without substance,
that don't wish well,
filling everything with thorns.

Admiring all that belongs to others,
without knowing how to enjoy,
what is their own.

---

Explosion

Explosion
The world explodes,
new, frightful times.
Organized collective madness, engineering,
new windows, walking to nowhere.
Reset, restarts, power groups,
everyone is expendable, they say.
A planet,
a world that isn't worth it,
that's too little for a few.
It's the world of insane agendas,
without humanity, headed for total detonation.
Globalizing wars,
they are wars of all against all,
mankind walking toward destruction.
Evil spreads and stains everything,
international evil,
wars.
The Great War,
battle against man.
False lies that fill everything,
evil disguised as good.
Explosion in chains.
Slaves of evil,
final revelation,
human gods,
walking into madness.
Explosion of global evil.


----
EXPLOSION

Explosión.
Explota el mundo, 
nuevos tiempos, pavorosos.
Locura colectiva organizada, ingeniería, 
nuevas ventanas, caminando a  ninguna parte.
Reseteo, reinicios, grupos de poder, 
todos sobran, dicen.
Un planeta, 
un mundo que no vale, 
que es poco para unos pocos.
Es el mundo de las agendas de locos, 
sin humanidad, camino al disparadero total.
Globalizando las guerras, 
Son guerras de todos contra todos, 
Caminando  el hombre a la destrucción.
El mal se extiende y mancha todo,
mal internacional,
guerras.
La Gran Guerra, 
batalla contra el  hombre.
Falsas mentiras que llenan todo, 
el mal disfrazado de bondad.
Explosión en cadenas.
Esclavos del mal, 
revelación final,
dioses humanos, 
caminando a la locura.
Explosión de la maldad global.


----
17 - VIII - 2025

---

Through clouds I travel, through the firmament,
comfortable in my seat,
in the sky.
In the air,
for a few hours,
from one point to another.
While I sleep a while,
and soon in another magical place.
From one world to another,
among suitcases,
and finally,
the destination,
yet another place.
Through turbulence,
across distant borders,
in another world,
to the destination.

July 16, 2025

FEAR OF LIVING


Fear of dying,
you are so afraid,
that you let yourself be deceived.

A world without love,
total greed,
on earth.

Fear of living,
you let yourself be killed,
empty promises,
of injected lives.
Consumed souls,
where no one wins,
destructive
ambition.

They leave
without knowing
they are dying.

Because of the agendas,
those that deceive us,
with empty words,
from a few,
manipulation,
for all.
Agendas
of death,
total misery.

And life slips away,
needlessly,
souls filled with fear,
who buy everything.

Death takes hold,
of the world of shadows.
No one wants to recognize,
that the world is fading,
false truths,
for the end.

To the final abyss,
out of fear,
of living.

---
MIEDO A VIVIR


Miedo a morir,

tienes tanto miedo,

que te dejas engañar.

Mundo sin amor,

codicia total,

en la tierra.

Miedo a vivir,

te dejas matar,

vacías promesas,

de vidas inyectadas.

Almas consumidas,

donde nadie gana,

destructora

ambición.

Se van

sin saber,

que mueren.

Por las agendas,

esas que nos engañan,

con palabras vacías,

de unos pocos,

manipulación,

para todos,

Agendas,

de muerte,

miseria total.

Y la vida se va,

sin necesidad,

almas con miedo,

que compran todo.

La muerte se adueña,

del mundo de la tinieblas.

Nadie quiere reconocer,

que el mundo se va,

falsas verdades,

para el final.

Al abismo final,

por miedo,

a vivir.





---

21- VII-2025

Afloat on life's current,
at times, moments of pure delight,
seducing life's embrace.
Loving sometimes, lost in love,
along the winding ways.
Feeling the skin prickle,
being truly me.
Without fear, no dread to take flight,
to speak my heartfelt words.
Building with my love's might,
these gifts for everyone.
Giving the best of my soul,
amidst my inner storms.
Among my moments of pure light,
at times, I can truly float.
Rhythms of my passing days,
lifting my very spirit.
In my own time, being authentically me,
with no desire to lie.
Sometimes cradled within myself,
a singular, sweet dream.
Unbearable at times, I know it well,
yet sometimes, a captivating charm.
There are moments for every single thing,
to strive to be whole.
Moments for soaring,
unbound from the body's hold.
Far from the material, mystical flight,
dreaming of being pure light.
The illusion of one's transcendence,
floating far from my own self.
Moments for miracles to bloom,
to become a little more.
To give love without any price,
to gaze upon the stars.
Moments for deep reverie,
cadences of sweet well-being.
Far from life's harsh reality.
Searching for my truest self,
cherishing this walk along the path.

For Myself:


I want a little peace,
I want to calm myself,
just a little love,
a little bit of light.
Just a little of what's gone,
I want to remember the love I had.
I want to give myself a break,
that intimate moment,
just for me, so secret.
To take care of myself a little.

A poem to comfort me,
to dream from nostalgia.
A poem that consoles me,
caresses to keep me company.
A little while for myself,
I want to pamper myself,
I want to love myself.
I want to stop crying for sorrows,
I want to dream that everything is fine,
I want words to embrace me.
Those tender moments,
to rest my soul.
I want to be so selfish,
that I make this poem,
just for me,
to heal myself,
with my verses.

A small poem for me,
to remember that I must love,
that love that starts with me.
A poem I will never publish,
just another whim for me.
They are pampering to soothe me,
to spoil myself, just for me.
That oasis to console me.
a tender moment of peace.

A secret poem,
a lullaby for me.
From my heart,
to heal wounds.
A tender poem,
from that child of mine.

GOLD.

A crazy life,
amidst tinsel,
the gold beating,
squandering life.
Spending the gold,
precious gold,
on nothing.
Time,
that passes,
in life,
a crazy life,
enjoying,
the hours.
Gold, that doesn't return,
the gold of a golden autumn,
on a ship that shipwrecks.
Throwing everything overboard,
doing crazy things,
the party continues.
What does it matter,
life,
doesn't return to us.
life is leaving us.
Burning the gunpowder,
in the final explosions,
everything goes away in fireworks.
Living the moment,
and later, if there's nothing,
what's been spent, let them take away.
Between planes, between trains,
between endless, unending parties,
between what's most delicious, most delightful.
What does it matter to throw away the gold others give,
that gold to be spent on the vice of living.
Let's live the present, there's no future anymore,
amidst agendas, let's squander everything,
squandering all that's been earned.
We will have nothing,
except memories
of parties
of gold,
and happy
air.
Crazy,
life,
to
spend
the future.
Without sorrow,
with joy,
let's dance.
Final
moments
of gold.
Golden
life.

August 5, 2050

HARD HEARTS


Hearts of sugar,
hard hearts,
of hard sugar.
Hardened,
hard souls,
enraged,
who tell themselves,
like syrup,
sweet lies.
They became hard,
deceived hearts,
that see themselves and don't see themselves.
In their own world,
indulgent souls,
unwilling to look,
benevolent,
embittered,
hypocritical,
deceived.
without criticizing themselves.
Without knowing how to see themselves,
self-satisfied,
souls ******* others,
they believe they are made of sugar,
and they are hard walls of sugar.
in their flawed mirrors.
Sweet glances for themselves,
in their distorted reflections,
sharp teeth with others,
double standards,
self-satisfied,
harsh judges
with others.
Hygroscopic hearts,
that **** up what's good,
and tell themselves they are good.




--

28-VII-2025

I've given you all that I held dear,
My memories, my feelings, my truth laid bare.
Now my words are my testament.
I stripped my soul to gift it to you,
I've wept to wring myself dry,
To extract my essence,
Condensed.
I've shed my skin,
I've forsaken my breath for you,
The one I'll never know, nor wish to.
I've given the best of my being,
I don't want to know what you're like,
So I won't be disillusioned.
I don't want to know anything about others,
I've dreamt of gifting myself,
Of giving myself in waves,
Waves of me.
I know now,
There's nothing to do,
Too human,
To become light,
But I unleafed myself in words.
You can't imagine how I suffered donating myself,
What I've endured, disintegrated, naked,
In those nights of my days for you,
I gave you the best of me,
And you never knew.
It's sad,
So much work,
To be a futility,
But I tried with my heart,
That imperfect heart that thought of you.
For so many hearts that will be thirsty for love,
That love I carry so deeply that I overflowed in verses,
Those words, no matter what they're called,
Were created with such pain,
To whisper my life to you,
And you'll think,
That I was,
Like you.
Just someone,
Someone who once beat,
Who had dreams and nightmares,
And in the end, we are the same,
I am one more, I am like you,
And I felt like you,
I am you, too,
A part of you,
despite,
everything.


----
Soy tú

Te he entregado todo lo valioso que he tenido,

mis recuerdos, mis sentimientos, mi verdad.

ahora mis palabras son mi testamento.

Desvestí mi alma para regalártela,

he llorado para exprimirme,

y sacar mi esencia

condensada.

Me he dejado la piel,

he dejado mi respirar para ti,

ese al que nunca conoceré, ni quiero.

He dado todo lo mejor que tenía de mi ser,

no quiero saber cómo eres

para no desilusionarme.

No quiero saber nada de los demás,

he soñado con regalarme,

en darme en olas,

olas de mí.

Ya sé,

que no hay,

nada que hacer,

demasiado humano,

para convertirme en luz,

pero me deshojé en palabras.

Ni te imaginas lo que sufrí donándome,

lo que he padecido, desintegrado, desnudo

en esas noches de mis días para ti,

te regalé lo mejor de mí,

y nunca lo supiste.

Es triste,

tanto trabajo,

para ser una inutilidad,

pero yo lo intenté con mi corazón,

ese corazón imperfecto que pensaba en ti.

En tantos corazones que estarán sedientos de amor,

ese amor que llevo tan dentro que me desbordé en versos,

esas palabras que da igual como se denominen,

que fueron creados con tanto dolor,

para susurrarte mi vida,

y que pensarás,

que era,

como tú.

Alguien sin más,

alguien que latió alguna vez,

que tuvo sueños y pesadillas,

y que en el fin somos iguales,

soy uno más, soy como tú,

y me sentí como tú,

soy tú también,

parte de ti,

a pesar,

de todo.



-----

14 de Julio de 2025

In A Corner
Utterly mine, in the deep silence,
in a house of purest white,
On the cusp of a morning,
with my soul utterly serene.
In the garden of the soul,
among the butterflies,
softly fluttering,
gently whispering,
poems,
within me.
For me,
sighs,
tranquil and hushed,
from that weary breath,
that still persists,
whispering poems,
even as I drown,
in this life that is not mine.
While I await my flight,
to soar from my corner to another place.
That distant realm where the soul takes wing,
where peace knows no end,
where living no longer burdens,
where I shall never tire,
where all is beautiful,
on the very wings of God,
in my own place,
so far away.
Meanwhile,
time softly slips by,
and I still gaze out,
from this beautiful corner,
of a soul that has grown weary of living.

EN UN RINCON

Muy mío, en el silencio,

en una casa blanca pura,

Al borde de una mañana,

con mi alma sosegada.

En el jardín del alma,

entre mariposas,

revoloteando,

susurrando,

poemas,

en mí.

Para mí,

suspiros,

tranquilos,

de ese respirar,

cansado, que sigue,

susurrando poemas,

a pesar de ahogarme,

en esa vida que no es mía.

Mientras espero despegar,

y volar de mi rincón a otro lado.

Ese sitio lejano donde el alma vuela,

donde la paz nunca se acaba,

donde ya no cuesta vivir,

donde ya no me canse,

donde todo es bello,

en las alas de Dios,

en mi lugar,

lejano.

Mientras,

pasa el tiempo,

y yo me asomo aún,

en ese rincón tan hermoso,

de un alma que se cansa de vivir.

IN THE TWILIGHT

Submerged in the night, wrapped in dreams,
among the August stars, floating,
while hearts beat.
In the warmth of peacefulness,
among the nectars.
Looking out,
amazed to be alive,
always a different night.
Gliding through life in a heartbeat,
in the magic of twilight, in peacefulness.
Forgetting the day to day, rocked by the suns of the night.
Among words that disintegrate into kisses,
among verses of the soul that accompany,
among hugs of happiness,
in the miracle of blooming,
that love for life.
Caresses of love,
among verses,
for you,
peace,
and love,
in verses,
that whisper,
the best for all.


----

EN EL ANOCHECER

Sumergidos en la noche, envueltos en sueños, 
entre las estrellas de agosto, flotando, 
mientras los corazones laten.
En el calor de la placidez, 
entre los néctares.
Asomados, 
asombrados de vivir, 
una noche distinta siempre.
Deslizando la vida en el palpitar, 
en el embrujo del anochecer, en placidez. 
Olvidando el día a día, mecidos por los soles de la noche. 
Entre palabras que se desintegran en besos, 
entre versos del alma que acompañan,
entre abrazos de  la felicidad, 
en el milagro de florecer, 
ese amor a la vida.
Caricias de amor, 
entre versos, 
para ti,
paz, 
y amor,
en versos. 
que susurran,
lo mejor para todos.

16  -VIII- 2025

LEARN:
We know nothing in the end,
every day is a moment to learn.
Life is a line between our points,
let's discover how to live, all of us,
let's share love.
From love,
let's look,
and live,
among everyone,
in the world.
And let's learn,
to know how to discover,
the wonders
of the world,
every day,
in that
love,
that
makes
life,
life.

LOVE IN LETTERS

It's hard to live without love,
but sometimes there are miracles.
Feel the cloud of my love,
that sweet and vaporous love.
Let me whisper love to you,
let it be very heavy,
and fill you with my sweet love.
Open your soul and feel me,
between the lines, I will be there,
you and I, and my cloud of love.
A cloying love for you,
love shared in letters.
Poems that melt away,
words to make you fall in love.
That breeze that will fill everything,
hearts that find each other.
Connecting souls, in the air,
in the little heaven of love,
Poems to imagine clouds,
in the sky of love, words,
created and thought to love you.
Discover my secret passion,
you and I alone, always together.
Traveling through verses in love,
in overflowing torrents of love,
between you and me, the secret of love.
In letters, in wrapped whispers,
that love always at hand,
in the moon of love and stars.
Poems to create the magic,
in the fantasy of softness,
Let yourself float in sweet love,
in the softness of feathers,
feathers of love that fly.
Spread your wings and rise to love,
between words and suns, love.
Love in spilled drops,
in my letters for you, my love,
my still unknown love.


-----
AMOR EN LETRAS

Es duro sin vivir sin el amor,
pero a veces hay milagros.
Siente la nube de mi amor,
ese dulce y vaporoso amor.
Deja que te susurre amor,
deja que sea muy pesado,
y te llené de mi dulce amor.
Abre tu alma y siénteme,
entre líneas ahi voy a estar,
tú y yo, y mi nube de amor.
Amor empalagoso para ti,
amor compartido en letras.
Poemas que se deshacen,
palabras para enamorarte.
Esa brisa que lo llenará todo,
corazones que se encuentran.
Conectando alma, en el aire,
en el pequeño cielo del amor,
Poemas para imaginar nubes,
en el cielo del amor, palabras,
creadas pensadas para amarte.
Descubre mi pasión secreta,
tú y yo solos, siempre juntos.
Recorriendo versos enamorados,
en torrentes derramados de amor,
entre tú y yo, el secreto del amor.
En letras, en susurros envueltos,
ese amor que siempre a mano,
en  la luna del amor y estrellas.
Poemas para crear  la magia,
en la fantasía de la suavidad,
Déjate flotar en el dulce amor,
en la suavidad de las plumas,
plumas del amor que vuelan.
Saca tus alas  y sube al amor,
entre palabras y soles, amor.
Amor en gotas derramadas,
en mis letras para ti, mi amor,
mi amor desconocido aún.


----
https://youtu.be/g5bvjUrVObk?si=S9eTAA4FYm9L6UX2

Smokey Robinson - Just To See Her

LUX


Lux.
Light,
lights,
measures,
illuminating,
measures of light.
Light as a luxury,
discovering the rays,
warm flows and cold flows,
corseting the light's rays,
measuring everything to infinity.

Poems of light that cannot be measured,
in the eyes, the light that unveils us,
new visions in natural light, or not.
In the sky's rays that cannot be grasped,
in solar storms, a volcano of light,
in the luxury of measuring the light that surrounds us.
Poems of light and darkness within you,
slipping lumens into your night,
sources of light in our lives,
it is the luxury of light,
that illuminates us,
in poems
sometimes.

Lights
of
art.
Lux,
luxuries,
lumen,
luminous,
­those lights,
flows of light,
that make us shine.
Perceived
radiation,
in life,
natural
or not,
just
light.
--
3-VIII-2025


---

LUX


Lux.

Luz,

luces,

medidas,

iluminando,

medidas de luz.

La luz como un lujo,

descubriendo los rayos,

Flujos cálidos y flujos fríos,

encorsetando los rayos de luz,

midiendo todo hasta el infinito.



Poemas de luz que no se miden,

en los ojos, la luz que nos desvela,  

nuevas miradas en la luz natural o no.

En los rayos de cielo que no se abarcan,

en las tormentas solares, un volcán de luz,

en el lujo de medir la luz que nos rodea.

Poemas de luz y de tinieblas en ti,

deslizando lúmenes en tu noche,

fuentes de luz en las vidas,

es el lujo de la luz,

que nos ilumina,

en poemas

a veces.



Luces

de

arte.

Lux,

lujos,

lumen,

luminoso,

esas luces,

flujos de luz,

que nos lucen.

Percibida

radiación,

en la vida,

naturales

o no,

solo

luz.

METALANGUAGE

Allow me to pass by your side,
and I will tell you some truths,
truths you won't hear,
Ears closed,
brain censored,
a world of lies.

It's you and me in the world,
that world of cruel newspeak,
where they are offended by hearing the truths.
Where you listen to what's programmed,
the metalanguage of the fake,
that which sounds good.

Where they tell you,
many beautiful things,
the opposite of the truth.
If they say it's for your own good,
they're telling you it's for their own good,
a lot of empty words,
look at what the preachers do,
and you'll see that everything has stopped adding up.

If they **** you, they'll say it's for your own good,
that the planet is sinking because you're alive.
A world where darkness engulfs us,
where everything is eugenics, it's the right to die,
rights go down the stairs.
And you will be poorer and poorer,
don't listen, better close your eyes,
and then it will be too late
for you to live.

Lies,
everything is a lie,
they don't want you to think,
everything is bizarre, everything is a game,
a game of agendas to **** you.
In the name of freedom, they enslave you,
in the name of security, they will tie you up,
deaf, blind, programmed.

For everyone,
hollow brains,
don't complain,
if they **** you,
without you knowing it,
There is no one blinder,
more blind than one who doesn't know it,
in the name of science they will **** you,
agendas that are ***** games for everyone,
there is no one deafer than one who doesn't want to hear,
and there is no worse sick person than one who poisons themselves.

But you close your eyes and continue with your business,
because soon it's your final hour,
and you won't do anything,
inevitable.

Advance your clock,
it's time for the agendas,
that say one thing and do another.
And everything is nothing more than an endless lie,
in that world of the Great War of evil against everything.

In the name of what is correct, we won't go to hell,
a world where no one believes in anything,
bad times to be saved,
may God find us confessed.

Revealed times,
everything is discovered,
at the end of everything.

5-8-2025
www.youtube.com/watch?v=oJAPDbeLVNw&list=OLAK5uy_k0VCb9lS3eUMu0zUufucnX6iQ75eD9euI&index=6
Les Chevaliers Du Declin · Veronique Riviere

In my summer, in my garden,
a wild garden deep inside,
inside of me, and in my home.
Among the green leaves,
my secret solace.
Between the city and me,
lies my intimate secret,
an oasis of cool.
Between four walls,
a slice of paradise.
Among my dreams,
dreams of the soul,
among my days.
There is a moment,
in that inner oasis,
that is pure happiness.
A garden just for me,
where no strangers tread.
Where everything is perfect,
at times I touch my heavens.
Among lilacs and trees,
roses, flowers always,
where life springs forth.
Among songs of life,
among greedy sparrows,
a bit of wilderness in the chaos.
In the great metropolis, flowers,
always green, in any season,
my small corner, exuberant.
A corner of life to revive me,
a garden no one sees, within me,
a garden that's in my patio,
a secret city nook.
Among my beautiful gardens I live.

---
En mi verano, en mi jardín,

jardín selvático dentro,

dentro de mí, y en casa.

Entre las verdes hojas,

mi secreto sosiego.

Entre la ciudad y yo,

hay mi secreto íntimo,

un oasis de frescor.

Entre cuatro muros,

un trozo de paraíso.

Entre mis sueños,

sueños del alma,

entre mis días.

Hay un momento,

en ese oasis interior,

que es pura felicidad.

Un jardín solo para mí,

donde no hay extraños.

Donde todo es perfecto,

a ratos toco mis cielos.

Entre lilos y árboles,

rosas, flores siempre,

donde brota la vida.

Entre cantos de vida,

entre gorriones golosos,

un poco de selva en el caos.

En la gran metrópolis, flores,

en cualquier época es verde,

exuberante mi pequeño rincón.

Un rincón de vida para revivirme,

un jardín que nadie ve, en mí,

un jardín que está en mi patio,

un rincón secreto de la ciudad.

Entre mis bellos jardines vivo.


---

18-6-2025

CADENCES

I got tired of making money,
too old to work,
I stopped thinking about how to make a living.
I told the traditional life to go to hell,
and I became a small being, and I left everything,
and I sway to my own rhythm.
Time and again, I've seen it all,
I live in my cadences,
that rhythm of my own.
And it was different,
that other me, entered,
and never left me.
I do what I want,
because I want little,
the future doesn't matter,
I've already been through a lot.
And now I am myself.
That's what I always was,
the child who never changed.
A small one who got tired of everything.
A heart that matured without knowing how.
That child who now plays with colorful words
who is that great unknown among those around him.
Now I play with everything and the moon smiles at me in the sky,
and you know, I stopped caring about how to live,
and what others say
everything slides off me.

Verses.

Gifts,

wrapped,

in air for you.

Bouquets of words,

to ****** hearts.

In my own nebula,
clouds of gas and dust,
throughout the cosmos of the world.
Floating in my constellation,
in my own black holes.
In my pupils, I hold a universe,
my soul a reflection of a world,
a world small and wondrous.

Among the nebulas of stars,
between my death and my rebirth,
nebulas of the heart.
Soul of nebula.
Only magic dust,
a microcosm,
my world is beautiful.

As beautiful as dust,
dust of stars, of suns,
floating for a moment far away.
Far from my withered body,
my soul reborn, reflecting my chaos.
A world where all is giant,
a chaos where all is minuscule.

A world of my own with rivers of tears,
where I weep stars in my brown eyes.
Among black holes, among constellations,
among my specters, among my clusters,
creating reflections of my own world.

Floating far from my limitations,
seeking the beauty in all,
among the nebulas of the soul,
within the gaze of my God.

Dreaming of the macro chaos,
between my micro chaos, among all,
flying beyond limitations.
In the sideral space of my soul, in my being,
I will enclose that world within a poem,
letting it lift me above the ground.

Let it lift me amidst the dust of life,
I will fly for a moment to distant galaxies,
transforming my stardust into alchemy.
It will turn the reflections of all magic
into a small poem of my universe,
as I dream of conquering limits,
and swimming untethered in the universe.
I will create a poem for you, friend,
a poem of celestial love.

----

Capturing life's nectar,
amidst circles of life,
savoring everything.
Life,
moments of life,
torrents of moments,
flowing rivers of life.
Savoring life's nectar,
floating between air and other waters,
waters of life, waters of blood, ocean waves.
While *** and death go hand in hand,
life and death, in the end, death will come and we will leave each other.
Everything flows, nothing dies, everything transforms ceaselessly,
intensely, life is a nectar where everything eventually ends.
In the end, we'll stop trifling and all be dust in the body,
while souls seek their way to the other side of the open door

PASODOBLE.
An unfinished symphony, this life,
like a pasodoble, at times,
growing each day, and ending.
While this, my life, fills with its musical band,
a music that plays through days and moments,
as the path draws to a close.
And the drums sound,
to bid farewell
to that life,
that gets stuck,
and doesn't want to end,
while pasodobles play on

Música y vinos, Manuel Morales Martínez (1977)
www.youtube.com/watch?v=t6vCfTo8idE&list=RDt6vCfTo8idE&start_radio=1

PERTURBING

Tragedies, those moments,
a perturbing moment,
between life and the other.
Catastrophes of life,
uncertainties,
for some.
In those moments,
on the edge of the abyss,
sometimes there are hard instants,
waves that drown, into nothingness.
Earthquakes that lay waste to everything,
a perturbing moment.
In an instant,
everything changes,
unstable,
fragile.
Moments,
between the good,
between disasters,
everything keeps changing.
With nothing certain,
everything changes,
for the better,
or not.
Instants,
that inspire fear,
between the dread of living.
On those fragile lines,
on life's tightropes.
Suspended by the waves,
on the razor's edge,
life is dangerous.
To live is enigmatic,
precarious lives.
Everything is an adventure,
on the line of living,
between life and the end,
lines that separate.
That life one lives,
sometimes it goes quickly,
between tidal waves,
hard and soft.
Among so many,
moments,
of living,
or of
passing,
without living,
or lived.
Long lives,
or brief days,
perturbing
that life,
who
knows
...

30-VII-2025

My precious velvet donkey,
my dreamt plush toy, pure poetry,
a  cotton skin, so soft.
As tender as a warm cloud,
that dreamlike Platero, pure jet black,
as sweet as an angel's sky.
Oh, to have a Platero in my life,
to walk beside me in green meadows,
to mingle among wildflowers,
to lie down with me, to be my friend.
Oh, to have such a sweet little donkey in paradise,
all beauty and tenderness, love in its purest form,
to caress you and feed you,
ambrosia for my friend.
Together through the world of perfumed earth,
trotting in nature's heaven.
How I wish I could have held you
in my lap,
my little donkey,
together
in that world.
A gentle world,
where all is good,
in the world of my dreams,
where we are all so happy,
where that other Platero and I reside.

---
Mi precioso burrito de terciopelo,
mi peluche soñado, pura poesía,
piel de algodón, tan suave.
Tan tierno como una nube cálida,
ese soñado Platero, puro azabache,
tan dulce como el cielo de ángeles.
Quién tuviera un Platero en mi vida,
que me acompañara en verdes prados,
que se confundiera con flores silvestres,
que se recostara conmigo, que fuera mi amigo.
Quién tuviera un burrito, tan dulce, en el paraíso,
todo bello y tierno, el amor en estado puro,
para acariciarte, y darte de comer,
ambrosía para mi amigo.
Juntos por el mundo de la tierra perfumada,
trotando en ese cielo de la naturaleza.
Ojalá te hubiera podido recostar
conmigo en mi regazo,
con mi burrito,
juntos
en ese mundo.
Un mundo amable,
donde todo es bueno,
en el mundo de mis sueños,
donde todos somos tan felices,
donde vive ese otro Platero y yo.

Ragpicker

Among life's ***** rags,
I walk like a ragpicker, rummaging,
cleaning life with rags and poems.
Poems that are sometimes soft and other times, not,
among the garments of life, among the clamor of living.
Among rags that help us clean even the soul,
and with clothes that turn us into disguised souls.
Rags to see that in the end, we are all worn-out rags.
I am a ragpicker of life, collecting rags and transforming them.
With my handkerchiefs, with my soft cloths among my discards,
rebuilding life in words, a ragpicker of poems.
Scorned by all and taking what no one wants,
in my sea where sometimes the waves are handkerchiefs,
those white rags, cloths of seawater.
Singing to the life that falls apart on me,
like old rags that are gone,
and are sometimes recycled.

RAYOS (Rays)
Summer heat, in the light,
discovering seduction.
Transformed into rays,
riding on light.
Sparkling.
Reverie.

The art of loving,
in our waves.
On summer afternoons,
attractive, ignited.
Through love,
waves of pleasure.

Submerged in the water,
discovering skin.
Delighting,
floating.
On wind's sailboats,
in flower pools.
Glories,
pleasure.

Resting from life,
being as we are.
Truly,
stars,
lunatics.
Uninhibited.

Shining with the sun,
in unadulterated life.
Sunny,
silvery,
golden.
Sublime.

In life's wind,
among the mountains,
on the blue sea.
Resting,
sensual.
Calm.
Open.
To pleasure.
Relaxed.

Open,
to love,
in the sea,
of the sky.

---
Calor en el verano, en la luz,

descubriendo la seducción.

Reconvertidos en rayos,

cabalgando en luz.

Chisporroteando

Ensoñación.

El arte de amar,

en nuestras olas.

En las tardes del verano,

atractivos, encendidos.

A través del amor,

olas de placer.

Sumergidos en el agua,

descubriendo las pieles.

Gozando,

flotando.

En veleros del viento,

en albercas de flores.

Glorias,

placer.

Descansando de la vida,

siendo como somos.

Realmente,

estrellas,

lunáticos.

desinhibidos.

Brillando con el sol,

en la vida sin tinturas.

Soleados,

plateados,

dorados.

Sublimes.

En el viento de la vida,

entre las montañas,

en el mar azul.

Descansando,

sensuales.

calmados

abiertos

al placer.

relajados.

Abiertos,

al amor,

en el mar,

del cielo.



--

14-6-2025

SENSATIONS

It's summer, full of hope, to have a good time,
in that torrid air that undresses us as we sleep.
Time to spend time with ourselves,
in that time of floating in the water of a full bathtub.
Luxurious details, whims that don't cost much yet,
small luxuries to pamper ourselves, with the luxury of time.
That time that always leaves without being able to catch it,
in the summer, where there are rays of the warm sun.
On those days to enjoy reading,
in my hermetic worlds,
leafing through and savoring
those books or poems,
stored away.
Time to open
books, letters or doors.
In that world that is paused,
in the August of another year, perhaps,
where each day is a gift.
Dreaming of beaches, with those wild islands,
dreaming between uncovered sheets,
in my dreamed African savanna,
in a very white house.
In my Paradise
I dream,
of incredible
days,
in my gray life,
with small luxuries.


My secret luxuries,
at home, without going out,
poor miseries,
of being very poor
and rich in dreams.
Between saving every day,
and dreaming without measure,
dreaming of living a little,
and just like that, the holidays are gone.
While I collect sensations,
when the winds caress me,
that world that has no price
Among the jungle of my little garden
among waters that fall on me.
Fountains that make me happy
those sensitive days,
that no one charges for,
and which are just that,
my secret
luxuries.
Sensation
of caressing,
the days and nights,
that something no one else
can afford.
Except for an outcast,
envied for being rich,
in emotions of the soul.
In a rich neighborhood,
one more poor person,
in his house,
envied,
for being
like that.

SHIMMER

Blinded by your rays, by your shimmer,
precious, treasures, unnoticed, are there.
Up the stairs of life, ascending,
down the stairs of life, descending,
discovering the wonders of everything.
Impactful, surprising,
dazzling, astounding,
those rays of yours, which illuminate.
In the streets, on the corners,
everywhere, I feel your rays.
Blinding, brilliant, everything with you,
illuminating all with your auras,
multiple facets of a brilliant one.
My unknown diamond, you are there.
How did it take me so long to see you?
With you by my side, everything is new,
with you I learned how to look at everything,
to see beyond surfaces, more.
More and more, flashing life,
you lent me that new way,
that whistling way of looking at everything.
With you I feel I'm on top of clouds,
fascinating, astounding, that everything existed,
and until I was with you I didn't know they did.
Luminous, your discovery impacted my brain,
your rays turn everything into a luminous experience.
Everything turns into shining gold, with your flashes,
my brilliant diamond that is always with me.
Life turns into gold at every instant,
liquid gold, that spills over everything.
Everything melts with my brilliant,
diamond that walks with me.
You transformed the mundane
into a magical meaning,
everything becomes sublime,
with you everything is shimmer.



---
9-X-2025

With feet on the ground, stepping.
Stepping with my feet, stumbling.
In the sand, in the warm summers,
stumbling with my feet, falling.
Escaping broken life,
for a few moments, we float.
In those dreams that will return,
eager to have a good time.
Barefoot on the beaches,
submerged in the water.
Moments to repeat,
getting out of the routine.
Stumbling over everything,
I go by fits and starts,
on the thin lands,
on the fine sands.
Falling once more,
into melancholy,
in no man's lands.
and then everything starts.
Once more that sea,
waters and beaches, seas,
other times the party begins.

In the bustle of the sea,
in the moving tranquility,
in the boiling, in the burnishing of gold.
Disconnected, with fear of returning,
without wanting to return to the heavy routine.
With feet on the beaches, playing,
playing with other feet, having fun,
in the summer to do crazy things.
To have a little more fun,
and then the usual drag,
that tedium, that bore.
Now with my feet,
in the sands,
vacation,
sea and sun.


---
13 de Agosto de 2025

---

www.youtube.com/watch?v=JxohJX9ElpE

Groove Armada - My Friend (Official Video)

STRANGELY

Unusual freedom, between walls, between wires,
illuminating poems from a strange mind.
In the joy of navigating thoughts,
without fears, without fears of anything, between walls.
Among thorns, in the free air of the stars,
among brambles, in the disorder, the chaos of living.
No rules for composing, in indifference,
in one's own norms to achieve freedom.
Strange mind in unknown territories.
In the tireless search to reach something more,
that something in the prison of living, in my freedom.
Without fear of the precipice, of my infinite abyss,
at the trigger of the final days of everything.
Between words that are born and remade within me,
in thoughts that fly free on waves.
Like a wingless bird with the miracle of flying,
in the tireless rhythm of beating in the worlds,
those worlds of my own in the world of others.
Strange life, after returning to the protected reality,
wrapped in cotton, with thorns and barbs on the fence.
Walking in the dazzling sun of the world,
anywhere and at any moment, soaring,
among flashes and sparks of being reborn each day.

Suspended Air
Between nebulas, suspended,
air among the senses,
poems of water.

Among fish,
in that distant sea,
among the bubbles of the dive.

Between the moon and the sun,
the salt and the water,
verses.

Poems of waves,
in the silence the sea roars.

Between the seashells, and the sands,
among the currents float unwritten poems.

In that distant world, where life is born and dies endlessly,
among waves there are poems that move at their own pace.

Incredible poems to write about life,
that life that is born and dies.

Suspended air,
among waters,
alive.

Bubbles,
salt and sea of life.
---
Entre las nebulosas, suspendidas,

aire entre los sentidos,

poemas de agua.

Entre peces,

en ese mar lejano,

entre burbujas del buceo.

Entre la luna y el sol,

la sal y el agua,

versos.

Poemas de ondas,

en el silencio ruge el mar.

Entre las caracolas, y las arenas,

entre las corrientes flotan poemas no escritos.

En ese mundo lejano, donde la vida nace y muere sin fin,

entre olas hay poemas que se mueven a su aire.

Poemas increíbles por escribir de la vida,

esa vida que nace y muere.

Aire suspendido,

entre aguas,

vivas.

Burbujas,

sal y mar de vida.

Tears of Stars

Aquí tienes la traducción al inglés de tu poema:

Tears of Stars
Open your eyes, and lift your gaze.
Tears of stars in August.
Flashes that spill down upon us.
Streaks of light in the firmament.
In the night sky, stars fall.
In the universe, wonders are shed.
Lights from the sky, Perseids scattering.
Dreams of the night, other worlds dissolving.
Other worlds stripped away, falling ablaze.
Stories of lights, illuminating the sky's dome.
Open your soul to contemplate the torrent of star remains.
Meteors cast down since the beginning of time.
Lights that melt into the endless sky for all.
In those scorching days of August, in the heat,
where life sometimes submerges into water,
swimming through life, while the light falls.
In the night, in the daytime lights of suns,
in explosions that illuminate us,
life filled with lights and shadows.
In that cosmos where you live,
in the universe of the great,
where the small lives,
among wonders,
of the nights,
of the days.

The Poem

"Life is the true poem"

July 18, 2025.

A gaze from the sixth sense,
to seek that poem, "The Poem."
That poem that is always there,
to dive into life searching.
Where life is the only poem,
that poem that holds everything.
Where everything is, to see,
to feel, that it unveils itself,
in pieces for life.
In pieces searching,
for that ideal poem.
Reflections of life,
that are just,
there in everything.
Unfurled,
pieces,
parts,
souls,
poet.
In that,
which is,
something,
more.
You,
and
...

Thou shalt not ****.

Life must go on,
streams of life that are born.
Life must always continue.
Embryos of beautiful life.
Chrysalises, colorful butterflies.
Life must go on, thou shalt not ****.
Valuable lives from the moment they are created.
Everything has its place in the universe.
Let everything grow and flourish for us.
Children growing, children developing.
Leave the children and butterflies in peace.
Do not stain the blue world with blood.
Do not fill our souls with filth,
Creating life is the wonderful gift,
Let life grow on earth.