birds of prey

image property of Miguel Lasa

all of them birds
of prey, guilty of hunger
needing to feed their babies
who will become hunters;

precise and elegant
in their attacks, eyeing
their preys from height
they hit and soar silently;

they keep their prized
possesion in their beaks
and on their way to the nest
they should be thinking

how to teach their always
greedy babies to live
with as much as they need
for the day, no more, no less

to keep the balance
with the food source
the spring of life
they stain from time to time

to be forgiven -the hunters
they must be mindfull
of those who suffer
through life's sacrifices

Christmas wishes

This night I do not care
for many things that are out there
I am not hungry, I am not cold
I wish the same to others young and old;
I do not care for fancy clothes, nor for
the newest gadgets, jewles or fur;
luxury is something I can live without
as long as I am healthy, I feel strong
I wish you all good health, and a good mood.
I care for music during Christmas night,
I care for harmony and peace within my family,
I care for peace around the world
for all the wars to stop and make way for reason;
I want to keep what it is mine,
I want to give what is to leave
I want a wing and a strong arm
I want a pair the same as me,
that I can hold with my arm
so we can fly with our two wings,
and dance in front of stars, despite the winds
like snowflakes in the air of night
the Christmas night when we shall share
the joy for this one special baby
who was born to spread His Light
onto believers, and onto us

paint

if I could paint with words
I would put a little silver
the leaves this season
so they could shine
and draw the eye
from the glittering
windows of the shops;
I would add a little shade
of pink and purple
to cheer up those who slept
on the wintery path
where trees loose their leaves
and the landscape turns gray.
I would hang cones in my christmas tree
that I should plant outside;
I would not mind the deer
and the rabbits
eating my vegetable garden;
and I would paint in the morning
fresh flowers in the garden beds;
by midday
I would make sure
the sun has been drawn
up on top of the painting;
I would tint my fingers with orange
and purple and blue to smear on the sky
for an unforgettable sunset;
anmd everyevening I would draw
a blue-black curtain
over the day
and start dreaming
about the colors
I should use to paint
tomorrow.

sometimes - or the color of night

sometimes a stranger
comes out of the night
to pick your burned wings
from the ground and
pushes you to fly again;
you come out of the night
into the light
never to forget
his name or his face
until next time
when you're burnt
and fall down.
eternal Icarus
you are destined to fly;
you are destined to find out
the reasons why;
but till you find out
know if you fall
- not all you dreamt of is lost
the darkest night
is hiding somewhere
a the color of hope

bella cita

beautifull city
with wide streets
crowded with so many people
I will never meet;

beautifull city
with white buildings
on the main boulevard
inside which no real pople live;

beautifull city
with the asphalt as gray
as anywhere, but warmed
by the hopes so many people had
while walking on your streets;
with the asphalt wounded
by the high heels of the enamored
lady running late to meet her date;
with your suburbia streets dusted
by the touch of so many baloons
the young boys were playing with
while they still had there dreams
that one day they will be champions
and score in the the most
grandious soccer finale
the world has had.

beautifull city
with tiny orange lights
to let you see through the nights
when your students study
for the dreaded exams
that will let them mature;

beautifull city
with the grandmothers
still crochetting
for their unborn nieces
and nephews;
when they are not walking
your streets to the market
or walking in circles
because they forget
where they were going to
as if it would matter
to you.

broken glass

there is a feeling
it starts wih a sound
long rememebered by the mind
it starles us and even its echoes
have the strange intentions
of convincings us
of their existence
it happens and if it happens
it's broken
it will never be the same
broken glass
the glue you may put
will barely
hold toghether
the warm feling
the admiration
for what it one was
a darling piece
but from now on
starting with the sound
it is just
broken glass

music lives

music lives and they
are living it
within their bodies,
like a child that
glorifies all the joy
herself is bringing
to the parents
and their guests.
If it touches you just let it
run through your blood
playfully or calmly,
or otherwise
if a tear runs out your eyes
it a sign of pure emotion
showing that
your are now living
through the music
and believing.

Love is a candle

rainbow colored thoughts

love is a fire burning
like in a censer every day
to keep the light on
in one's soul;
but there are times
when if it twinkles
it gets fragile
and needs a kindle;
it takes some time
a little care
to make it through
the coldest night;
if you are willing
not to take but also give it
your joy and time
love will be what you make of it.

winter comes

photo credits Nina I. Andersen

rainbow colored thoughts


winter comes with great surpise
especially through children's eyes;
they long expect in the warm house
the sight of flouries at the fall of night;
and when they seem to have grown tired
from the wait the snowflakes fall
and their eyes start to twinkle
you can see once the iris color - periwinkle
and then two stars and thousands of reflections
in the mirrors they protect with lashes;
they can't wait to go outside in the fresh morning.
their cheeks bloom red with joy
and they ignore the coldest frost;
the sledge is here? if not
the bottom of the pants stays always near
will slide on snow, will dance on ice;
will all fall tired in the night.

the moving edge

Photo credits Julio Segura Carmona
rainbow colored thoughts: November 2006



I have been there
at the edge of the world
where the sea kisses the sand;
where the sky reaches
to the other end of the sea
I have been there swinging
and changing moods and thoughts;
while the colors of the sky
played with their fingers
on the blushing clavier of the water;
I have been there I say
when nobody else was watching
I dipped my fingers and asked
the sea if we're allowed to even touch it.
and there I have learned that if we have
great respect the water will bear our ships
on its back; and I have been there with crowds
trying to mingle with creatures from other worlds;
but they were all happy to give up
their attempts at becomings
creatures of the sea, after a mere few strokes;
they gave up trying to become creatures of the sky;
after a mere fluttering of their arms;
they happily gave up trying to be creatures of the land
after playing hide and seek and burying themselves in the sand.
we have resumed to living with our feet on land,
with the head in the clouds and dipping our fingers
in an ocean of salty waters at the marging of sand.
the hopes that we harbored before we came into existence
reach every now and then out and we invent machines
that put us on teh moon and then bring us back on land;
airplanes that fly, and boats that float, submarines that
submerge and everynow and then we get to be on the edge
of the new limits that we are resetting
but for most of us the edges stay largely fixed
in the same place where they were when we came
reality stays in place unchanged by our minor events,
while us and our loves ones come and go
making us perhaps the slightly moving edge of the universe.

Monday Shoes

rainbow colored thoughts
Monday Shoes
should always be slip on's
so one would never be late
because of them;
they should never require
being cleaned in the morning;
they should never loose
each other from sight;
if possible they should jump
right on my feet;
here would come left and there
would come right;
since after the weekend
the day should start
with a least stressfull morning
and now off we go, right foot up!

falling leaf

rainbow colored thoughts

when the brightly colored leaf
finally fell
the changes came too soon and too fast.
first it turned cold
and as the sugar in its veins grew old;
the neat skin crinkled;
the pieces that made up its youthful soul
broke up
with little cracks, then turned
to ashes
while dissipating all around
fueling heat
for in its final celebration it has burned for us

at the edge

photo credit: salih güler & photo.net
rainbow colored thoughts




if we find ourselves
at te edge of teh universe
and you give me your hand
I will take you further
and when you are tired
I will take I will
take you back home
if you only trust me
my brother;
if I trust you
my brother;
let's walk togheter
the joys of life
the challenges
and the despair
just hold my hand
and be there
somewhere
for me
mine
my
brother

so happy am I
to say "us"
because you are
none of us
will be ever alone
at the edge
of this unknown
universe

presentiment of white

rainbow colored thoughts

credits for the photo: Vilnis Peimanis & photo.net

they must have come near:
in the morning
stary shapes sit on my windshield
the wind hisses in my ear
when I try to sleep
the leaves are sent in circles
wandering from here to there
since they have lost
their high seats on the branches;
no place to rest but by the fire,
where chestnuts will wait to be roasted,
and marshmallows to be burned.
the day is short, the night is long
there is a chance for us to talk
indoors so we draw ourselves
closer to each other,
to feel our own warmth,
as the winter days
will be here shortly
-dressed in white.

new

tabula rasa
scared mind
does not dare to think
what happens
does not dare to absorb
does not dare to trasnform
that's when
it became
tabula rasa
when it awake
the worls was singing
and on the blue strings
of his guitar
the world around
turned into blues
full of blues
the river's water.

solid stony embrace

rainbow colored thoughts
she who only knew
how to live in the present
he who was sending with a bird
his message to the future
and his fear of beeing forgotten
after a mere fifty years;
she who only feared forgetting
where the keys were,
and when her favorite show was on;
they coupled togheter
in a perpetually vibrating loop
in serch for resonance.
their hands holding togherer
while a path was beeing crafted
right under their feet.
the music they threw in the world
left in search for its time;
they were singing for the joy of their life.
people were comming to listen to them,
for years. now they are quiet
a stone statue in the park
the couple that's tightly embracing
and meanwhile keeps an open gate
for the other half of the world
who wants to pass under their influence.

autum fest

rainbow colored thoughts

His voice
a little bitter
than the beginning
of fall; her hair
the color of honey;
his eyeglasses
like her eyes - blue;
they survey the crowd
with their eyes;
hazy their voices
trouble the quiet
air in the afternoon
of a song filled
autumn fest.
the two policeman
on their bikes;
don't dare to move;
so as not to detune
with the vibrations.
when the magic is over
they will dissolve in the crowd;
who will quickly forget
where they left a mark.

The red kisses' effect

Red kisses can ripen the apples
Rise the sun on a sky of colors
Make the sea roar heard
Till the top of the mountains.

As for me, I fell forever in love
With an orange tree that we once found
In the church’s garden in front of which
At least in my memory kids will always play ball.

leave one out

if we would all be fed the same news
wouln't it be like we would all see
the same facet of the diamond called truth?
wouldn't it be like the world was again flat
just because our combined news agencies
erroneusly relayed the same piece of news
from an inquisitor type of reporter.
born by mistakes several centuries too late?
would it be good if we would all think in the same way?
perhaps. since harmony would reign.
but how about progress? only directed one way?
how about balance? will all our flat world tilt
if all opinions lean the same way?
for myself...I would rather run the risk,
or the pleasure of a debate everyday,
over a peculiar piece of news I heard
and interpreted one way, different than your way;
I would rather have a big banquet and talk
to all in more or less unison, and learn
to apreciate and not harm the one who by neccesity
takes his turn in the game where we leave one out.

give or take

rainbow colored thoughts
who else but him cares
for our suffering race?
are we going to fight him
or are we going to love him;
are we going to rip him
of the gifts he has brought us
or are we going to wait
for his story to unfold
for the paraables to be told;
and then lift our head
to receive the sign of peace
on our foreheads;
cup our hands
to receive the bread;
then learn to shape
the bread ourselves;
perhaps to fish
in quiet waters;