Sending sunsets to jail

I have been trying for years
to write your name
on the surface
of raindrops 

This is so dumb
why do I do it
why do I think, sometimes,
that it is gonna work?

Writing poems is futile
is like hiding the sun with a finger
it is still there
like… trying to bring a city through the ocean
is like sending sunsets to jail.

The Science of Your Name

Your name
sounds like that music
of Mahler beer
on my throat

Inspiration
is just a word

People here
are the wind
escaping from the rain
and you are the rain

The rain that refreshes
and pushes me to paint, everyday

---

Who said 

drinking was bad

drinking is one more reason

to look into your eyes

saying cheers

creates the moment

to make toast 

for our kisses out loud

hidden in a different language

the language of a drinking myth

who said drinking was bad

crashing the glasses

makes almost the same noise

that the pillows make through your mouth

when I drink your life in the cup of your bed

Theory

fish is respect
we are they
feeling is coward
to have is to be
life is home
love is a gift

e.g.

self-respect
yes, they have

they have a feeling
yes, they have

they prefer to live at somebody else's home,
somebody else's gift.

We breathe and we stop breathing

Ok. I knew how to start the thing.

I dunno how to end it, but the time has come.

For whom do I write now?
Does it matter for whom?

The IV Reich has started
the government of the riding darkness
the time of the starving memories
  of voices that gather at my ears
the time of confusion

So, if you destroy everything
why you didn't destroy
those clouds that shaded on my past?

Rules

I hope 
somebody could tell me 
what kind of game is this 


is it dangerous? 
do you need the skills to throw a ball? 
may be to keep running for hours... 


just one thing I am pretty sure 
this is not a game, I know 
I'd better watch out 


I might end up 
splitting in two 
and none of them 
will know how to play the game

Dragon & Rooster

During my last flight to the islands
I dreamt of two animals
a rooster and a dragon
dancing on a red ribbon
116 meters long

It was an amazing dance
both, Rooster and Dragon, flying
their eyes widely closed
and although the music wasn't loud
their wings were swinging along

Rooster was stepping fast
Dragon was following so
and by twisting her whole body
made Rooster's head shaking too

What a dancing dream
Rooster and Dragon
on a fruit-attached red ribbon
they ended up promising more dances
once the sun gets covered by the smoke

Voice of a Dragon

Flying over your city
and starving in my year
I have this feeling of eating roosters
but not any rooster

I want to eat that rooster
that I am pretty sure
will smell delicious trying to escape from my jaws

a rooster that runs and jumps
energetically
after any shot being heard

a rooster with soft
very soft
and tender feathers

a rooster that wakes me up
every time I let my wings fold
by singing "don't be a mediocre dragon"

may be I don't want to eat it
I just want to keep that rooster
as a pet

but I'm starving in my year
flying over your city
and I'll be keeping my eyes on a rooster
little rooster

Sensores::Sensors

Te ves tan bien te oyes tan brillante hueles a rosas sabes a pastel de arándano (es un cumplido) y cuando toco tu piel se siente como terciopelo pero no me gustas Seré yo? Serás tu? o Hay algún problema con mis sensores? .

You look so good you hear so bright you smell like roses you taste like a blueberry cake (that's a compliment) and when I touch your skin feels like velvet but I don't like you Is it me? Is it you? or Is there anything wrong with my sensors?

The girl and the fox

I sat me down
to scratch my nose
with this pen
but then I preferred
to write a poem with it.

I said
"I will write a poem
about that girl
with the prettiest smile
or
about that fox
who use to get close to me
to escape
from starvation and loneliness"

However
I never kissed that girl
and the fox never talked to me

next time
I won't waste ink writing poems
I'll better scratch my nose
or my ears.

Walk-in closet

The first two weeks
you were used to wear
that sparkling smile
and a colorful t-shirt
the following month
you clothed yourself
with your body's energy
to bear with a gray summer

in the last month
you discovered my poems
written behind the fox's wall
you use them to sleep
during those nights of watch

but after the moon changed
you started to wear
a green fabric in your head
turning off your energy
hiding your sparkling smile

and you didn't let anymore
the threads of my voice
warming your ears
you just refused
to wear the words
of my walk-in closet.

Ultima hoja :: Last leaf

Pensé que eras una daga abriéndose paso en el bosque en su lugar fuiste la lluvia que tomaba una siesta en las nubes ahora te busco en cada hoja muerta en el carmesí que denuncia la invasión de la noche nunca quise que la luna cayera en tus dedos sólo quería dejar de ser protagonista de un sueño de enfermos la última chispa quedó esperando su nacimiento la dejé flotando perdida como la última hoja que vio con vida el otoño

I thought you were a dagger breaking through the forest instead you were the rain taking a nap in the clouds Now I look for you in each dead leaf in the crimson that denounces the night’s invasion I never wanted that the moon fell on your fingers I just wanted to leave taking the leading role in a sick people’s dream the last spark was waiting for its birth I left it floating loss like the last leaf that the autumn saw alive

Si sólo me quedara tu sonrisa

Si sólo me quedara tu sonrisa la guardaría junto con la primeras hojas del otoño la dejaría en mi ventana para que me recuerde que debieran haber otras primaveras quizás le contaría de la lluvia que cubre el sur todo el invierno y la llevaría a caminar a través de un frío verano normando Le invitaría una cerveza para que ría todo el tiempo aunque a ratos le diría que el mundo es cruel para que me acompañe en el silencio tu sonrisa si sólo ella me quedara la miraría con mis ojos de adentro escondiendo los minutos en mis puños recordando sus labios a color olvidando tu indiferencia en blanco y negro.

If I only had left your smile I would store her with the first leafs of the autumn I would leave her by my window to remind me that there should be other springs May be I would tell her about the rain covering the South the whole winter and I would take a walk with her through a cold Normand summer I would invite her a beer to see her laughing all the time though sometimes I would tell her that the world is cruel so she would join me in the silence your smile if I had left only her I would look at her with my inner eyes hiding the minutes in my fists remembering her lips in color forgetting your indifference in black and white.

Western Eire

Quería contarte que cuando viajé al desierto verde tu voz se colaba delgada entre las gotas de lluvia puse atención, tanto como pude, a los datos históricos pero no podía dejar de pensar que en casa despierto cada día a dos puertas de la luz y que me vuelvo un niño cuando tu mano aturde el silencio o cuando tus ojos aterrizan en los míos.

I wanted to tell you that when I traveled to the green desert your voice slipped between the rainy drops I paid attention, as much as I could, to the historical data but I couldn't stop thinking that at home I wake up everyday two doors away from the light and that I become a child when your hand dazes the silence or when your eyes land into mine.