waiting

I wait for you to save me
but it is all in vain
You gaze upon the waters
ignoring my outstreched hand
lost in thought, your eyes
fixed upon the furious sea
do not see my sinking boat
You shove aside my hanging body
for better fruits in the same tree
I wait for you and die
over and over again
waiting is my only life
and yet I mind ending it now?

Share

Posted on

Our Celluloid Life

I like the part where we meet: so funny and yet so full of romance; although I am not crazy about all the coming and goings until we finally get together – all the little bits that showcase our fierce rivalry and one-upmanship that suddenly evaporates into naught when love comes to ring the bell at our doors.

I also like the part where I save you. Although I cringe a bit thinking about the imminent danger you were put in by my recklessness/my commitment to a cause/our sense of adventure/our life in the wrong side of the law/the bad guy dislike of me-you-us etc…

But I like the most the part where we kiss. You bend your head up and half open your willing lips and I lean over you and just take them in mine – discreetly, gentlemanly… the spotlight centers on us making a ring of light and leaving everything outside it in complete darkness. And we remain frozen this way, kissing forever, outside of the world, time, petty life and entropy.

( read translation in spanish )

Share

Posted on

Night Wife

My wife lies naked in the dark
She glows like snow in a clear winter night
She waves sand dunes the wind brings to our bed,
hills and valleys in a moonlit landscape
with fire in her depths and ice in her peaks
as the night pokes her breezy hand
through the half open window
to caress her body.

I stare fascinated
perfectly lonely by her side
She has no eyes for me.
She sleeps. She is gone
I receive her with overwhelming gratitude
when she returns to wrap her legs around mine
I love her most when she makes me hate myself

Share

Posted on

Anchor

For in order to ask
I would need to speak,
I stay sealed in silence
by pain and fear
You don’t see me alone
or realize I am lonely
My silence grows heavy,
an anchor tied to my lips

Share

Posted on

the sentinel in the dark

the sentinel in the dark
talks to me of things he felt but never saw
of voices the wind brought and scattered
of phosphorescent dials in the right hands of passers-by
of cigarettes alighting small areas in hidden faces
of car lights ploughing the night along the way
but mostly he speaks of the darkness itself
and the things he sees in the darkness of my heart
the sentinel speaks scarce and softly
but his eyes know no silence
his voice flows from lips that do not move
curled up in a frozen smile
without irony, judgement or humour
his eyes carry all of that – and the cold of the nigh as well
the sentinel in the dark reports about my love
he speaks of how she is doomed to be the only one
that cannot ever know what really feels to love her
because of this, he explains without malice or empathy,
she’ll never know the nature of my hurt
the sentinel in the dark looks at the sky above us
he read the stars as I would read my watch
I follow his gaze and when I look again he is gone
the sentinel has once again deserted me
and took the night away with him – day breaks

July 28th of 2012
Victoria, BC

Share

Posted on