Thursday, June 28, 2007

sharing

let the rain fall
and soften the earth
ready to crack
hardened by a violent sun,

let us relax
and be friendly
to the guests who still drop
by our house

let us share
not only the burdens
but also the little
surplus of food for dinner tonight

and if nobody
shows up at the door
and you are forced
to dining alone

remember the birds
tomorrow they will be hungry for crumbs
they'll let you admire their feathers
dipped in dew and morning mist

Thursday, June 07, 2007

the world is you (I need a better title)

the world is calm
and time keeps flowing
with the same rhytm
like it always does

but if your heart beats fast
or if you fear the night
and cannot wait for morning
the flow of time
seems altered
just to you;

and if you spin and spin
and you get dizzy
it does not mean
the world's gone crazy
it is you
who turn too fast

the world is calm
and time keeps flowing
with the same rhythm
like it always does

Wednesday, June 06, 2007

chocolaty eyes

in her chocolaty eyes
there is so much sun
that my heart melts
when I look in her face.

(if I melt to be a fluid
that the sun will soon dry up
I shall become a drop of sweat
so she can wipe me with her hand)

my brain needs my coffee
with crushed cubes of ice
to wake me up and remind me
I am submerged in reality.

why, why , why?



photo credits Lisa Hatcher


why would I
walk your walk
talk your talk
paint your sky?

why would I
cry if you cry
smile if you smile,
hurt if you hurt?

why would I
be here for you
all for you, if I
did not love you

Tuesday, June 05, 2007

a man's nine lives (needs rewriting)

just like a cat this man,
he seemed to have nine lives
and made himself a new one
when others took one away

when he was young he dreamed
of a long-linear-healthy life
in which he would take care
of the land of his father

he went to school to become a lawyer
though and even practiced a few years
before he was disbarred
for the reason that he was born rich

they took his land away from him
so he was rich no more
he had to work for a piece of bread
with his hands - in a mine

when he had done his years he was freed
and he worked a cool job - again in the light
where the country was rebuilding itself
with his sweat, everybody's sweat

this all had to happen in a bare place
100 miles away from the city
his kids and his family
but he worked 6 days a week on the construction site

and he was happy to breath
air, read a book on train
who was carrying him home
at the end of every single week.

later on things got better
and he was starting to bloom again
when life decided it was time for him to retire
spend his days at home, where from the children had already left

to open their own new horizon
individually crafted (or so they thought for a couple of years);
and he opened a book, and he went to the church
with a candle to light up the past

he went far into the past
perhaps from fear of hurting somebody's feelings
if studying too much the present
or the not too distant future and past

he became a student of history
and a writer of lives, as they occurred to others
to whom we relate since we live on the same land
and all these despite of our laughs

and now that he is gone
we shall remember him when we see
the symbols that he deciphered
the symbols of a time we like to call a noble past

he lives through his writings
he lives his ninth live
that he may not have dreamed when he was young
and thinking of one linear life.

this man who like water
took the shape of the places he was thrown in
worked on building his own life while others
were thinking they imposed one on him.