! Made himself the sky!
Venus took her fingers,
amniotic earth aura
Faded and frigid Venusian;
Bring to me Heimat ...!

In the dream my love,
Ghiberti blew through your elbows
floriarena the ammonites,
sea shoreline ...
region of my glance.

I touched her soft back,
and to rotate;
Ghiberti bring to me Heimat,
floriarena  from your region
where we saw one day
walking the stone sea.

When in a casual insight love,
my encourage love;
He acknowledged your life
siluet and Tuscan figure,
made himself aqua emerald your face
streamly explosion made himself ...
your eyes full of water,
they gave to me;
the unknown universe,
hundred time  water ...

clematis verbal slender,
You touched your lips
my shading roam step ...
dark black shadows;
... Universe, almost bluish ...

You Heimat clematis!
with the force of my love look,
ordained the word love
pine  love  walks like mist;
with igneous light monodia
whose love is my heart.

My heart is your life,
your eyes its shine;
when I look Into Your Eyes,
"My universal heaven,
I sleep waiting for your life
to love the flourishing sea "

Now it is winter,
and the wet shores of your kingdom
I think I see you in the morning;
walk with your hips made Nautilus ...

When you look at me smile sitting
play with your vulnerable figure;
her translucent ...
It appears only in the mornings ...


Heimat ammonites sleeps ...
sleeping in my footsteps ...
marking soft sea;
translucid happy that my eyes,
I bring in the morning ...

By early Sea,
the stretch your eyes and your mouth sideways
It is filled with fluid ammonites,
and you return orange the viaduct ...

The assembly gave my love thy hands;
these mobile pieces of air,
They are talking about me ...
and speaking my deep image,
My heart pounded in his voice.

How often gray sea
wash your beautiful cheek ...?
and you away from here ...
you ignored if it was night or stormy day ...


The truth is for today
you pronounce my name,
so I'll touch your lips inside;
as glanders viaduct ...
take your eyes full of light ..., the sea soon ...
the stretch your eyes and your mouth sideways,
fill with your ammonites
Orange becoming the viaduct ...

When I usually remember transfigured moon,
July cold complicity ...
It makes me get you on those points of your face,
where innocent love your sound pronounce my name
as if his arms would carry my name ...

Palest cold!
undulate like the sea,
and the sea blows like you
when I'm gone,
White ammonite not fall into wailing ...
because their translucent and dense tears,
disintegrate their coordinated fingers
these compounds and sand ...
They will not go by sea glanders;
but their soft sandy feet
shelled die teardrops wherever
without a single step to ...

"Ammonite glassy smell ...
I love to see you...,
shims because my reason and my love
here by the Sea "

Nepente taking at twilight,
to slide your goddess yarn;
i return pretend that Venus,
God as a deluded ...

Today when I closed my house,
and I stretched my arms out
I felt cold ...
and said to the cold ...:
"Look to your beloved,
never tired in looking at you ...
and if you feel my own cold,
remember you will love.


José Luis Carreño Troncoso  Copyright  15

I want to be as pellucid as waterfalls
As limpid as clear glass
Transparent as windows between the walls
Translucent as a frosted glass
A case puzzling consulted to Sherlock Holmes
A noticed must-read tome
An idiom comprehended
A metaphor which meanings unravelled
But I'm a wall, thick and opaque
Not translucid and clear as a lake
So I guess no one will ever see through me
My thoughts
My being
My depression.

pain creates the most
profund poetry,
pain creates the most
shiny pearls,
pain is the tool
that changes who we are,
pain is the sharp wind
in winters,
something you undoubtely feel
when you are brave.
an alarm signal,
a remider that your body is not
translucid and that it shines.
you try to escape reality,
but the remais of past
come agressively in waves.
morfine.
anyone can hurt you
and you are anyone too.
so what can we do?
pain starts and ends
a war.

pain is better than fear
as the blue skies are
better than the grey ones.

my cracked walls are full
of printed poems.
black and white.
but the emptiness
can have many colors;
so i choose the blue.

it s almost summer
and the sun reflects on
the white, guilty
pages of your book.
close it! and wait till
a translucid cloud
covers the star.

do you feel the coldness
in the heavy air?
do you feel the shivers
when i read those
beautiful lines pinned
to the walls and to my heart?

there is nothing
to hold on to.
memories, ilussions,
clouds, all gone.
but it's still so beautiful
when true life itself
puts you in a trance.

surrounding you
surrounding us
surrounding
there is noise in the evening
for blessings to come
for fortune to go
for harm or for tango
and in the night
in the darkness that you express
that we you i have in mind
for we do not claim them to our kind
for silence is sometimes the option
the choice to stay silent and a new condition
arises.

for we
like the silence

for we
hate it as well

for me
it's feeling alone
it's acting as if i can defend myself when i have no shell

and silence
is a marvel
silence is the possibilities and the fear
the consciousnesses that disappear

it's the voices that exist in your head
that are not spoken but loud they've made
your mind its own enemy it revels in misery
it's the hopeful voices that never stay
it's the hopeful voices that never say
that honesty is doubtful
when you're the only one to think.

but most above
there is one voice
the voice of the evenings and the eerieness of the days long past and the days' long mess
the voice that is unheard of for it does not exist
the voice that exists yet is silent
your voice
your own voice, in your thoughts
condemned to doubt and regrets
that despite having its place in your mind
will never find peace at any time

but as any word you speak vanishes into the translucid glass
of the cinema lens unrecording
your inner voice will remember
and in silence will it go back
to slumber.