My words will poison you,
with toxins, venoms, and vaccines,
my thoughts and words will pierce.
Unknowing, I'll pass that virus to you,
that virus from my Venus, toxic,
contaminated by me.
In the power of my verses,
those that brand their mark on you.
You don't know, my poems infest,
I'll flood you with my sweet desires,
those that fly for all.
That toxin which is love,
forbidden love,
luminous love,
simple love,
verses laced with love.
I'll infect you with my love,
that love which today is venom,
I'll sway you with my indelible trace,
you'll vaccinate yourself and multiply my toxins.
You'll be powerless, once my words are read,
those that will usher in my way of being.
Inevitable, your soul will be infested,
I'll enfold you with my soul,
and you'll be a bit of mine.
That toxic venom of love,
will spread through your brain and soul,
that love forbidden in this age.
Love for art's sake, nothing more,
seduced by love,
love of letters,
Once my verses are read,
nothing will ever be the same within you.
You'll be inoculated with the word's power,
and I'll fill your current with a bit of me,
and you won't know you'll become a part,
a part of my very self,
in your soul and in your being,
it is my poison.
---
TOXINA

Te envenenarán mis palabras,

con toxinas, venenos y vacunas,

mis ideas y palabras traspasarán.

Sin saber, te transmitiré ese virus,

ese virus de mi Venus, tóxico,

contaminado conmigo.

En el poder de mis versos,

esos que te dejan huella en ti.

No lo sabes, mis poemas infestan,

te inundaré de mis deseos dulces,

esos que vuelan para todos.

Ese tóxico que es amor,

amor prohibido,

amor luminoso,

sencillo amor,

versos con amor.

Te contagiaré mi amor,

ese amor que hoy es veneno,

te influiré con mi huella indeleble,

te vacunarás y multiplicarás mis toxinas,

No podrás hacer nada, una vez leídas mis palabras,

esas que te introducirán mi manera de ser.

Inevitable,  tu alma será infestada,

te envolveré con mi alma,

y serás un poco mío.

Ese veneno tóxico del amor,

se difundirá en tu cerebro y alma,

ese amor que está vedado hoy en día.

Amor por amor al arte, sin más,

seducido por el amor,

amor de letras,

Una vez leídos mis versos,

nada volverá a ser lo mismo en ti.

Serás inoculado con el poder de la palabra,

y te llenaré el torrente un poco de mí,

y tú no sabrás que formarás parte,

parte de mí mismo,

en tu alma y en tu ser,

es mi ponzoña.
---
6-VII-2025

Un receso, un descanso, un alto.

Momentos para dedicar a uno,

Esos días para ser perezoso,

para descansar un poco.

Momentos para salir,

para estar tranquilos.

Días para darnos un alto,

días para sumergirnos en paz.

Instantes de felicidad, un descanso.

En el agua, en la montaña, o en sueños,

paremos y tomemos aliento en el camino.

Vacaciones para tomar impulso,

días para pasar tiempo,

tiempo de descanso.

En olas, en ondas.

Ese otro tiempo.

Tiempo sin reglas,

tiempos para cambiar,

esas vacaciones sin tiempo,

momentos de caprichos para uno.

Flotando en el aire, en el agua, o a la sombra,

días de vacaciones para descansar de la vida.

-----   To Die Each Day:
A Pause, a Rest, a Halt
A pause, a rest, a halt.
Moments just for us,
Those days to simply be lazy,
To ease our weary souls.
Moments for stepping out,
For quiet serenity.
Days to give ourselves a halt,
Days to deeply dive in peace.
Instants of bliss, a pure release.
In water, on the mountain, or in dreams,
Let's pause and catch our breath along the streams.
Vacations to take flight,
Days for simply passing time,
Time of gentle rest.
On waves, in ripples.
That other time.
Time without rules,
Times for a shift,
Those timeless holidays,
Moments of whim, for one's own gift.
Floating on air, in water, or in shade,
Vacation days, from life's weariness unmade.

Sometimes the body asks for a break,
and stops working, so weary.
Our body protests,
too much to function.

Body that rebels,
asks for a pause,
and screams at us,
overloaded,
exhausted.

And it breaks,
too much
undone,
spent.

That body,
my body,
out of tune,
lost its harmony.

So much marching,
so much work,
and in the end it takes its toll,
too much forcing,
and the machinery stilled.

And in the end we stop,
there is no other choice,
but to pamper with time,
that body with rest,
that took a vacation.

---
VACACIONES

A veces el cuerpo pide un receso,

y deja de funcionar, tan cansado.

Nuestro cuerpo protesta,

demasiado funcionar.

Cuerpo que se rebela,

pide una pausa,

y nos da gritos,

sobrecargados,

extenuados.

Y se rompe,

demasiado

reventado,

agotado

Ese cuerpo,

mi cuerpo,

desafinado,

se desajustó.

Tanto marchar,

tanto trabajar,

y al final se paga,

demasiado forzar,

y la maquinaria rota.

Y al final nos paramos,

no queda más remedio,

que mimar con tiempo,

ese cuerpo con descanso,

que se tomó vacaciones.



---

15-7-2025

VERY SLOWLY
How many years have drifted by,
Time rushes swiftly on.
And I, at times, pause myself,
So very slowly I go,
And in myself get lost.
Very slowly,
I take my time,
To lose myself,
Within my being,
Deep in thought.
I take my pause,
So very softly,
I look and listen,
I lose myself within,
Cease thinking,
And only feel,
That beating heart,
That soul,
That throbs,
That feels,
And I forget,
Of everything, no more.
I turn to me,
And let myself just sleep,
Within those dreams.
Sometimes I read verses,
So very softly,
Just as I like it.
Very calm,
I stop my clock,
And rest.

VOICES

IN VOICES,
VOICES,
Other
Faces
Amidst
WhispeRs
SilenceS,
DYED
WITH SCREAMS.
PLAYING
WITH SCREAMS,
WITH YOU,
GAMES,
in the silence,
of the heart.
Soft whispers,
in that world,
that SCREAMS at us,
DRAGGING,
with force, everything,
voices, STRONG,
THAT WE SCREAM.
Among whispers,
carrying syllables,
On the other side,
of life, you.
Out of sync,
out of tune,
silences.
Musics,
in me,
amidst
exaggerated
MOMENTS
OF FIGHTING,
Wild,
decelerated,
exorbitant,
silences.
Amidst
SCreams­,
that roar,
playing,
with letters,
syllables and you.
CRunching,
scratching,
everything,
between
the silence,
and the noise,
of the world.
HEART
That SCREAMS,
SCREAMS,
LET US SCREAM,
in the silence,
of a city,
NOISY,
THAT CRUNCHES,
that carries us,
in waves,
exaggerated,
in me, in you.
Let
everything,
be noise,
and when
everything explodes,
let's hear the silence,
that silence that EXPLODES,
and makes us HEAR THE HEART,
cleared of life's noise.
And if you want to cry in silence,
let the HEART SCREAM,
SCREAMS OF THE SOUL,
among consonants,
that drag us,
in the exorbitant,
world without compass.
Without rules, without norms,
a moment to live.
Far from the conventional,
CREATING SCREAMS
IN THE silence,
in me,
in you
silences,
that SCREAM,
THAT CLAMOR,
to rest,
that your soul,
that my soul.
Screams,
in everyone,
that no one
hears
deaf,
Listen,
YOUR
rhythm,
that beats,
cycles,
waves,
complaints,
whispers,
of the being,
that
which
screams,
and cries,
or sings,
in silence.
If you don't like it,
I don't care,
I'll scream!!!!
with screams,
in silence,
OR ALOUD!
SSSSS,
SSS.
SCREAMING
whispers
...

WAVE PIRATE

That pirate walking around, without a wooden leg,
a modern-day buccaneer,
lives on a boat in the Manzanares,
He goes out at night to sail,
among ducks and stars.
The pirate smiles,
everyone chases him,
the tax authorities for being poor.
Creditors chase him,
but he doesn't care, he sails in his sailboat,
under the bridges, he lights a candle.
And at night he fishes for a can of sardines,
he lives poorly under the bridges, they are his castles,
That pirate is so handsome that in rags he is a prince,
he is the king of beggars in a big, ***** city.
And he sails again and again into the distant past,
and despite having nothing, he is happy,
because he sails anew,
he dreams of ocean waves.

He has nothing,
he can't lose anything more,
everyone fits in his court,
and the beggars smile.
The pirate tells stories,
of better times past,
and sometimes when they have money,
they sail in a small boat in the Retiro Park.
And still, women turn their heads when he passes,
it's not common to see a pirate in Madrid,
A handsome pirate, whose poems are copied,
and I, an anonymous poet who plagiarizes the pirate,
and I sit with the others,
I listen to their stories,
and I dream.
Enthralled by the stories,
stories of a pirate who was someone,
now he is just someone, whose verses are to be copied,
anonymous poems that it's a shame to just let them get lost.
Fables of a pirate, stories of impossible boats,
those boats that are sailboats in the Manzanares,
a pirate who was shipwrecked among garbage bags,
unknown stories of Madrid,
that no one knows if they are true.
Stories of a wave pirate,
Fables of a life that shipwrecked,
tender stories that have a sad ending.

WE, THE LOSERS
We, who never win,
who lost all battles.
Failures, forgotten, losers,
lives wasted for nothing.

Those lives that never reached their peak,
fallen into oblivion, without triumphs in life.
Masterpieces of life that were lost,
on the losing side, anonymous, gray.

Lost along the way, masterful,
without a chance to celebrate anything.
So many lives we didn't reach,
and the dust carried everything away,
forgotten failures.

Losers,
that's who we are,
we,
the immense
majority.

NOSTROS, PERDEDORES

Nosotros, los que nunca ganamos,

los que perdimos todas las batallas.

Fracasados, olvidados, perdedores,

vidas que se malograron para nada.

Esas vidas que no llegaron a su cima,

caídos en el olvido, sin triunfos en vida.

Obras maestras de vida que se perdieron,

en el bando perdedor, anónimos, grises.

Perdidos por el camino, magistrales,

sin oportunidad de celebrar nada.

Tantas vidas que no llegamos,

y el polvo se lo llevo todo,

fracasos olvidados.

Perdedores

esos somos,

nosotros,

inmensa

mayoría

---
https://www.poemas-del-alma.com/blog/mostrar-poema-784308

Who Are You?

I want to scream, LOUDLY,
be strong, and what does it matter, what anyone says,
What does it matter what we can say, KEEP GOING,
KEEP GOING on your path, and whatever is meant to come,
let what is meant to come, come, BUT COME TO ME.
I am your pirate, you are my sorceress,
but come to me, if you wish,
and let whatever is meant to be, be, say no more,
JUST KEEP GOING, let your heart guide you, and live again.
Don’t cry for what wasn’t, and follow your path wherever it leads you.
And if you have to SCREAM, SCREAM, let your SOUL SCREAM,
and what others say, what does it matter, if your heart is a bird.
That heart that beats with every pulse,
that pulse that smells of life’s aroma, and whatever is, let it be.
And if they ask you, who are you?, don’t answer,
just stop thinking about what others think,
and let your bird keep going, caged in your chest, beating.
Let everything be as you wish,
I will scream your name in the sky, girl.
That girl, who hasn’t aged, in a long time.
And let your soul do pirouettes and let them talk,
And don’t stop thinking about everything that is to come,
and put flowers in your life, let the aroma of life flow,
and let what is meant to be, be.
And stop being the other one,
that other one, that isn’t you.
And if they ask you, who are you?
What does it matter what they think, you are just you,
and every day you look for that path to be yourself.
Let’s not look for answers to unanswerable questions,
and just see that only you are the most important thing in your life,
and if life went awry, it will straighten out.
Just think that every day we are different, ever-changing,
that we can’t bathe twice in the same river waters.
And every day doesn’t have answers for everything,
let’s not pretend to be what we are not.
And if you ask yourself, who are you? Everything changes every day,
every day we are new, in this life that carries us and takes us away.
Girl, don't think so much about others and start thinking about being what you seek,
that girl who is a thousand different ways as the years go by.
And if you ask yourself, what does it matter
tomorrow, who knows,
if you will be another.
And despite everything,
always,
you are you,
Whatever happens,
you will continue to be another,
even if you change every day.
The same ever-changing one is you.
Keep being yourself on your path,
along the path, always you,
even if everything changes,
always you, my girl.
My golden woman,
in the sunset.
JUST YOU
MY GIRL!

WHISPERS
Seconds that drag in the night,
seconds that pass without knowing.
Stretching the seconds,
into minutes.
In the night.
In that time,
to refresh oneself.
Among the stars,
in the soul's silence,
amidst soft music.
Time to forget,
to finally come out,
within oneself,
forgetting everything.
Seconds to go,
to come to oneself.
One's moment,
to become absorbed,
to be oneself.
To forget the hustle and bustle,
to immerse oneself in the self,
to refresh ideas,
and be within oneself,
letting seconds pass,
stretching life.
Lengthening seconds,
converting seconds,
into minutes that slip away,
disregarding the hours.
Whispers of the seconds,
to convert life
into slow poems,
that float,
in the air.

28-VII-2025

---
Sunset Lounge 2025 | Smooth Sax & Deep House Chill Mix • 2-Hour Slow BPM

www.youtube.com/watch?v=i8AQn9Wbu7k&list=RDi8AQn9Wbu7k&start_radio=1

Wounded bird,
broken wings,
I cannot,
I no longer know
how to rise.
A shattered dream.

Poor bird,
flightless,
a failure.
Dreams
in a nosedive,
into harsh reality.
Shattered,
crashed
plumage.

All broken,
I dreamed of flight,
and couldn't.
My body
is heavy.
I plunged,
I fell from grace;
I no longer know how to fly.

So much dreaming,
only to land
unwillingly.
And my dreams
have flown away.
I moved my hands,
and saw reality:
I was no angel.

I was no longer a child,
and everything hurt.
I wanted to be better,
but I'm not;
I corrupted myself.
And I was just me,
a poor soul
who flapped
in my dreams,
a loser
in my life,
only disaster.

Consumed
beyond remedy,
I reached the end,
landed on earth,
dreams undone.
Neither angel, nor good,
nor child, just an old man
who never learned to fly.
Hope took flight.

Carlos Alberto Bustillos López
Copyleft