Tuesday, December 19, 2006

boreando la aurora


la realizacion vino hasta despues.

el momento me llevo hasta donde lo deje arrastrarme,
y en ese breve instante,
en ese segundo volatil y desquiciado,
me entregue por completo... sin pensarlo.

sin pensarlo me deje ir,
sin darme cuenta me perdi.

me fui sin explicacion,
sin una razon concreta, ni exacta.

solo me perdi.

me perdi en una maraña de palabras,
me hundi en un mar de ansiedad.
en una idea distante y extranjera,
una ilusion que ardia en la noche...
pero de madrugada aun mas.

como con el alma azotada,
como con el corazon en la espalda.
sangrado intermitente,
respirando rapidamente.

inexorablemente,
perdidamente,
inexplicablemente
y emocionalmente

me perdi.

me perdi en tu rostro
me perdi en tu mirar
me perdi en las cosas que queria sentir
y en aquellas que queria olvidar.

el 'hubiese existido'
se compone de muchas verdades.
se enreda entre lo real y lo absurdo
y se acomoda con facilidad ante lo extraño.

extraño como el momento,
como la sensacion.
extraño al pensar, extraño al sentir.


y en medio de todo esto,
extraño tu cuerpo...
pero tu alma aun mas.

Sunday, December 03, 2006

Please Bleed

Make me feel like a beggar
Make me feel like a thief
Make me feel like a battle, that cannot end in peace
Make me feel like running, as if I've lost my nerve
Make me feel like crying, tears I don't deserve

Please bleed
So I know that you are real
So I know that you can feel
The damage that you've done
Who have I become
To myself I am numb
I am numb
I am numb

Is this really living? sometimes its hard to tell
Or is this a kind of gentler hell?
Turn out the lights
And let me stare into your soul
I was born and bled for you to hold

Never said thank you
Never said please
Never gave reason to believe
So as it stands
I remain on my knees
Good lovers make great enemies

Please bleed
So I know that you are real
So I know that you can feel
The damage that youve done
Who have I become
To myself I am numb
I am numb
I am numb.

Wednesday, November 29, 2006

To Come of Age



Running through the mindfields, straight as a crooked glass
(Come to me)
Believe in what your spirit desires, allow yourself to dream
(Come to me)
Relinquish your existance, accept it and be free
(Come to me)

Broken by this moment, twisted in your faith
(Come to me)
The purpose of your message, secure in the thoughts within
(Come to me)
He claims you and calls you forth in spite of yourself
(Come to me)

'You will never understand, your eyes gazed away'
(Come to me)
Belittled on your ground, you stare straight ahead
(Come to me)
As soon as the Sun goes down, his Moon will follow you
(Come to me)

Come to me and feel me
Come to me to heal
Come inside this fortress of grief
and let me allow you to see.

That all outside is fleeting
and you inside must feel
this burden you alone must carry
and you, alone will be.

Thursday, November 23, 2006

Fluyendo en el espacio



Desconecta el instinto.

Desconecta la sensación.

El palpitar,
el deseo.

La razón exacta,
la verdad absoluta.

Eludiendo el hacer
y construyendo el placer.

Se nos limita el horizonte en las múltiples estaciones de la carne,
y el corazón al desnudo se confunde entre la multitud de emociones y conmociones,
distante a la pasión,
más cercano a la ilusión.

Aquella que nos inunda,
y sin pensar nos digiere,
nos seduce en aislamiento
y nos envuelve en la corriente.

El fluir sin reparo,
navegar sin destino.
Impulsados a la deriva
rehuyendole al inconsciente.

Las aguas se tornan violentas
el caudal truena contra las piedras,
incesante,
inparable.

Te dejas arrastrar
porque no te queda opción.

No te queda opción.

Wednesday, November 15, 2006

La Torre


Confinado a esto.

Reducido a lo que ves.

Ni siquiera a lo que esperas, o lo que piensas.

Aqui, envuelto en un manto de lágrimas estructuradas,
tibias gotas de cera
goteando una a una
derramando la consciencia sobre la esencia
sobre el espacio
sobre la nada.

Me encandila y me trastorna la oscuridad
me deja tendido en el vacío
suspendido,
esperando.

Si pudieras escuchar desde adentro,
tal vez no pensarías igual.

Si pudieras descifrar lo que digo,
te quedarias en este lugar.

Aqui no pasa nada.
Aqui nunca sale el sol.
Aqui se nos agota el agua,
y aqui,
aqui nos quedamos los dos.

Tuesday, November 14, 2006

Cuervos

Se cae la razon.

Se cae. Se desploma.

Se vierte, se derrama... se esparce.

Para aprender a aceptar no basta con el perdón,
discurso escurrido y gastado,
entregado a aquellos que creen merecerlo
sin siquiera ameritarlo.

No se instiga el alma a lo ocurrido
si se logra discernir lo marginal de lo absoluto.
Aislando la verdad de la mentira,
la austeridad en lo propio.

Es hora de entregarse,
es tiempo de soñar.
Reunirse en el fondo, con tu yo herido
y traerlo al borde de lo real.

Si de soñar y de paisajes se trata
de los espejismos me habré de despojar.
Y yacer suavemente en el pecado
de dejar este tiempo pasar.

De dejarlo pasar,
de verlo correr.

De verlo como entre sus ruedos se lastima
lentamente, así, intentado enloquecer.

Es como la emoción.
Que emerge.

Emerge, te llena,
te envuelve.

Te abraza, te ahoga
te apreta, te suelta
y te deja caer.

Verticalmente,
desde el suelo;

las cosas se observan diferente.

it shall pass


the story runs like this.

it was early morning. the warm arms of dawn were gently enfolding the tide with their caressing touch, softer even, than the tender motion of her flesh beneath the waves.

"Je ne sais pas quels sommeils sous les eaux, mais il m'appelle. En bas. Plus profond. "

the current flowed slow. it was taking it's time, and danced around her silhouette as if amused by the tantalizing and lingering sweetness that wafted behind her, trailing like thinly stretched threads of honey.

she could picture herself lost in this huge realm, it's terrible vastness stretching far and wide in 3 directions. alone. floating.

"Mes pensées sont avec moi, mon âme erre libre. ceci, est le vol de l'esprit. "

she moved. swirled, tumbled and pirouetted as if becoming one with this enormous entity... torrents seemed to flow through her; thought, emotion, currents of will. all unmistakenly masked in hues of redemption and solitude. her will was her own, but her self was alone.

"Je suis perdu dans mon esprit, mais je suis trouvé dans ce coeur. Je coulerai dans à ceci, et ceci aussi passera..."

with one last look into inmensity, she headed back to the shore, right where the rest of the world began. back to where it waited.

let us never forget, as she once did, that even this... yes...

this too shall pass.

Saturday, November 11, 2006

In the light

I am the world between the setting suns.

Instead of looking through
I aim my gaze ahead.

I burn the eyes of morning
and sleep in the arms of the shade.

I lie on thoughts forgotten
while my silence breaks the storm.

Follow me as I wallow through the depths of dawn
I will lead the way and gently feed my conscience with the surreal inseminations of my will.

The overlapping flow of your faith may finally bring your soul to rest.

Please revive those who we thought unremembered
so that we may finally again begin to see.

Wednesday, October 18, 2006

the thread

weaver spins the threads

weaver spins his thoughts

weaver sees it upright

weaver learns to play.

We rise like the scent of morning,
and weep as the day unfolds.
We lay on our thoughts forgotten,
and pray we can still uncoil.

From the dream,
from the wake.
From the shades inside our head.

We believe, we reside.
We're accustomed by our rage.

Understood, half-recalled
we alone decide to fall.

Sunday, October 01, 2006

el consorte

disfruta del placer que te brinda el silencio,
eterno compañero de la soledad.
materializado entre instante e instante,
como una exquisita guarnición a guardar.

se refleja en las palidas paredes del abandono existencial,
para luego solo perfilarse dentro de la sabiduria que has de encontrar.

exaltado. condescendiente.
brilla en su ausencia como ninguna otra cosa que te hace pensar.

te envuelve, te desangra
y en un espacio, se logra infiltrar en tu mente.

tu cuerpo lo asimila, lo procesa.
lo rompe, lo destaja.
lo acondiciona y lo festeja.

pero aun asi
y sin embargo

lo has de extrañar.

Monday, September 25, 2006

La Oleada

es extraño este mundo, y las vueltas que da.

en un momento te encontrás solo mirando hacia atras,
hacia adelante,
sin sentido alguno de direccion permanente.

de repente te das cuenta que estabas parado en la arena que queda descubierta al recogerse el mar para levantar sus olas.

ves hacia arriba, y cuando te percatas te revolcó una marejada de emociones, sentimientos, deseos,

que

no necesariamente estan en conflicto;

pero nada mas

te sacan a flote.

es extraño este mundo, y las vueltas que da.

Thursday, August 24, 2006

the trip

"this is the best part of the trip... this is the trip"

feel the way the road bends with your will
aiming to the evening sky
when the sand is spread out before you, until
the wind blows it right past your eye.

shifting sands,
the path becomes of glass
darkness hovers above and silence descends coldly and unforgivingly
down down down the spiral goes
further along the wayward trajectory we create with our being.

bite your tongue, bite your thumb
the snake hisses behind you.
he wants your intentions laid bare before you
and awaits with sullen tongue and sullen pride.

"You invade my domain,
you lay on my bed.
You drag your essence over my earth
and expect me to welcome you.
You have entered my territory,
tresspassing my soil, looking for the sun.
This highway leads west."

Learn what you may
do what you will.
Consequence is the only constant.

Believe me.

It's the best part of the trip.

Thursday, August 10, 2006

Ahmmor

se acerca
se devuelve

entra
sale

define

¿qué es el amor?

entrega
sacrificio
alegría

¿humano o divino?

su orígen me escapa
su naturaleza, me evade

muchas cosas parecieran serlo
pocas cosas se le comparan

al fin y al cabo
solo desde adentro sabrás
y solo desde adentro
lo puedes encontrar.

Monday, July 31, 2006

El Sentimiento es Eterno

Algo te pasa cuando miras al vacío.

Te recoge, te abraza.

Te envuelve y no te deja apartarle la mirada.

La ausencia de estar, clama ocupación
la mayoría de las veces... añoras dársela
sin preocupación.

Un pensamiento puede ser como una marejada.
Te azota de repente y sin aviso.

O te puede dejar perdido entre instantes.
Entre imágenes y deseos
entre recuerdos y delirios.

La presencia es fugaz, es efímera
pero el sentimiento...

El sentimiento es eterno.

Thursday, July 27, 2006

So... tonight that I might see...

"A son becomes a father... and the father becomes the son."

Monday, July 24, 2006

The Walrus and the Carpenter




The sun was shining on the sea,
Shining with all his might:
He did his very best to make
The billows smooth and bright--
And this was odd, because it was
The middle of the night.

The moon was shining sulkily,
Because she thought the sun
Had got no business to be there
After the day was done--
"It's very rude of him," she said,
"To come and spoil the fun!"

The sea was wet as wet could be,
The sands were dry as dry.
You could not see a cloud, because
No cloud was in the sky:
No birds were flying overhead--
There were no birds to fly.

The Walrus and the Carpenter
Were walking close at hand;
They wept like anything to see
Such quantities of sand:
"If this were only cleared away,"
They said, "it would be grand!"

"If seven maids with seven mops
Swept it for half a year.
Do you suppose," the Walrus said,
"That they could get it clear?"
"I doubt it," said the Carpenter,
And shed a bitter tear.

"O Oysters, come and walk with us!"
The Walrus did beseech.
"A pleasant walk, a pleasant talk,
Along the briny beach:
We cannot do with more than four,
To give a hand to each."

The eldest Oyster looked at him,
But never a word he said:
The eldest Oyster winked his eye,
And shook his heavy head--
Meaning to say he did not choose
To leave the oyster-bed.

But four young Oysters hurried up,
All eager for the treat:
Their coats were brushed, their faces washed,
Their shoes were clean and neat--
And this was odd, because, you know,
They hadn't any feet.

Four other Oysters followed them,
And yet another four;
And thick and fast they came at last,
And more, and more, and more--
All hopping through the frothy waves,
And scrambling to the shore.

The Walrus and the Carpenter
Walked on a mile or so,
And then they rested on a rock
Conveniently low:
And all the little Oysters stood
And waited in a row.

"The time has come," the Walrus said,
"To talk of many things:
Of shoes--and ships--and sealing-wax--
Of cabbages--and kings--
And why the sea is boiling hot--
And whether pigs have wings."

"But wait a bit," the Oysters cried,
"Before we have our chat;
For some of us are out of breath,
And all of us are fat!"
"No hurry!" said the Carpenter.
They thanked him much for that.

"A loaf of bread," the Walrus said,
"Is what we chiefly need:
Pepper and vinegar besides
Are very good indeed--
Now if you're ready, Oysters dear,
We can begin to feed."

"But not on us!" the Oysters cried,
Turning a little blue.
"After such kindness, that would be
A dismal thing to do!"
"The night is fine," the Walrus said.
"Do you admire the view?

"It was so kind of you to come!
And you are very nice!"
The Carpenter said nothing but
"Cut us another slice:
I wish you were not quite so deaf--
I've had to ask you twice!"

"It seems a shame," the Walrus said,
"To play them such a trick,
After we've brought them out so far,
And made them trot so quick!"
The Carpenter said nothing but
"The butter's spread too thick!"

"I weep for you," the Walrus said:
"I deeply sympathize."
With sobs and tears he sorted out
Those of the largest size,
Holding his pocket-handkerchief
Before his streaming eyes.

"O Oysters," said the Carpenter,
"You've had a pleasant run!
Shall we be trotting home again?'
But answer came there none--
And this was scarcely odd, because
They'd eaten every one.

Lewis Carroll, 1872

Trust your instincs

Sabrás lo que es la ira,
por tus venas la sentirás correr.

Instinto.

Viene de repente
te llena en un momento
y se extiende.

Constantemente
pulsaciones.

Explosiones.

La reconoces... es como una vieja amiga que nunca has dejado de ver.

La conoces y te conoce tan bien, que no te imaginas la vida sin ella.

Aqui adentro es diferente, aqui no somos como ustedes.

Nostalgia, desconfianza, ansiedad... todas dan lo mismo, si resulta lo mismo al final.

De ellos a nosotros. ¿Cuándo comprenderán que las cosas cambian?

El camino a seguir a veces parece difícil, pero la única manera de fracasar...

Es no haber ni siquiera intentado.

Saturday, July 22, 2006

Desde abajo

Las apariencias pueden engañar... and it's so easy to be fooled by them.

We crave and want and need, our desires play tricks on our mind.

Careful we must be, our worst fear could be used by ourselves against ourselves.

Y la perspectiva lo cambia todo.

Cuando miras al mundo desde arriba, a veces es difícil ubicar la posición en la que se debe estar... se torna incómodo el mirar a la gente, y la salida más fácil se vuelve la más atractiva.

Las causas perdidas tienen en sí un sabor especial... that which cannot be reached always catches your eye in a particular way... such a sweet allure it has... the strength to carry it out... muchas veces te envuelve y te dejas perder y te dejas ahogar en su esencia.

Que la vida es un sueño, y que los sueños, sueños son. Me encanta citarme estas palabras, especialmente cuando mi adrenalina y mi espiritu seem to be soaring up in unchartered skies... deep into spaces known only to the free of mind and soul.

Beware of adrenaline... droga poderosa, adictiva y deliciosa. Cuando la sientes fluir por tu torrente sanguíneo, te llena de lo que crees que se siente estar vivo en cada centímetro y partícula de tu cuerpo. Beautiful feeling of power and closeness to the multiverse in your head.

Para plasmar estas palabras, tengo tinta virtual... para leerlas te dejo este sitio... esta cavidad en el espacio cibernético, perdidas entre millones de bits en códigos numéricos, binarios... the senseless nonsense drifting amidst a sea of nothingness... entwined between what we think is real... and what we deem to be so.

Desde adentro. Desde afuera. Desde arriba.

Heme Aqui

Y aqui empieza...

Por accidente consciente más que otra cosa.

Fui encontrado por este medio, y ahora heme aqui.

La verdad es escurridiza, poco tangible, pero real.

No prometo verdad.

No prometo consciencia.

Es más, no prometo ni siquiera coherencia.

Esta es mi realidad. Welcome my s@n... to the machine.