The new shirt

I am going to close my little eyes to dream with you now. At first, distance, is a little hole in the shirt. But then, when times goes by, the shirt collar is grimy with wear. Finally, the best thing is to buy a new shirt. Nobody wears a full of holes shirt. No matter if they are at the front or at the back. People will think that we are crazy. And they will leave us alone, because of our appearance, which is reflected in their crystal eyes. With eyes like this, when they watch amazed. Very open. That is the reason why is better to buy a new shirt. Although I know that is not easy to get accustomed. First of all, because when you wear it on, it seems to be made of cardboard and you walk straight without knowing how. Then, because you do not want to get it dirty or ruined. You want it to be the new shirt forever. But nothing is new forever. Forever is worn out and full of holes everywhere. Nobody occurred to wear a forever. But that is another story. We are talking about you and me now. About the new shirt which does not seem to wear with anything. Or which is too loose fitting or too small. The trick is in the use, in order to worn it. But when you start getting accustomed, it is not the new shirt anymore, and the shirt collar is frayed and the cuffs are ruin or get dirty. Some shirts last longer because they are made of good cloth. But all of them finally ruin.

You should…

You should see me now

Full of you

You should have a look from the eye’ peephole

You should emerge from the inside of the nut

Iridescent

Immaculate

Sovereign

Efficient …

Only as you know

Only that way

You should let me see you now

I travel with the wind

I hide above the leaf

And I slip between the shadows

To see you now.

Just as you are

Magic

Carnal

Solemn

Heartbreaking beautiful…

Only as you know

Only that way.

The Balcony

The balcony’ doors opened at three o’ clock in the morning. As a cuckoo clock the balcony opens through its doors. As a cuckoo clock it shows me the night. That makes me remember you and the life in the town’ streets at three o clock in the morning. It is windy tonight and the wind comes to wake me up as a little bird chirping in my balcony. The wind. The night. The town’ streets chirping in my balcony.

I prepared *mate at three o’ clock in the morning. And I leaned out of the balcony, with the mate in my hand, to see you. Which means watching myself, and the deeper I watch myself the clearest your image. It is like walking through the narrow town’ streets. Labyrinth’ streets. I come, with the mate in my hand, in the narrow, fragile and sweet memory. You came to wake me up at three o’ clock in the morning. Suddenly the doors opened letting the wind bursts in my room. After that I lit a cigarette. I was melancholic. I smoked thinking about you. I used to think about you at three o’ clock in the morning. But I also do that at ten, eleven and twelve… and the rest of the day too. That is why I am not surprised you were at home at three o’ clock in the morning as a little bird in order to chirp your absence.

I cursed the town this dawn. I cursed the town’ street this dawn. I asked the town about you. I asked the town’ night about you and they do not know what to say.

‘Damn you because you have not got her’ ‘Damn me because I have not got her’. I cursed myself this dawn under the night, with the night on and above. I cursed myself of not having you.

My town is sad without you at three o’ clock in the morning. Without you, my town is sad at any time of the day. Its painted houses are also sad of not having you. If the had you, I know, they will show you.

A man, smokes and misses you, in one of the town’ balcony during the dawn. He is lonely without you, but with you up and down. That man, who smokes and waits inside you, is sad. If he had you, I know, he will show you.

The town’ night goes out to look for you. People look for you in their dreams. Flowers close to look for you. The wind comes to wake me out to look for you.

* mate: an aromatic beverage used chiefly in South America and especially in Paraguay that has stimulant properties like those of coffee.

http://dictionary.reference.com

As someone who throughs Baudelaire’s poems as if they were thighs on the carpet.

The one I love, resonant as the morning and who seems to be a light’ ray, clean and clear…underground and lonely… who does not stop stealing my dream during the night… because I come from there, with this outdated confession… to her, who suddenly is another one. Who does not love me and say my name anymore… with her little dirty feet because of her travels through world… who does not want to be between my sheets… who travels as an echoes repeating herself far away… with returning wrapping… scratched…intimate and beautiful as a washed garment… as the short poem of our love… as the pale thighs of the one who does not love me… laying here… as handkerchief in exile… with her only gaze, the fragile essence of every thing… although you choke the verb you can understand, eternal dream of a lost woman… she does not share my sweat of this wild love… and her voice is a veil… little flag fluttering in the station…

The best

What is wrong if I sit down to stare at you
if I do not want to do something else
just to spend hours staring at you.
and what is wrong if I sit down to listen to you
if I cannot do anything else
just be alone
in a complete silence
to listen to you
and what is wrong if I cannot love someone else
and I tell lies to both of us
to continue
and I go with nobody and with a million
to a hotel where I bleed
and where the sun drags and sweats
It does not matter if I wait for you
because before that happens many others will find you
and you will go with them
We know that
because it is better
you can see
this is only a poem
where there is place for only one.

Foolishness’ genius

Jesus came here
but I was drugged
when that occurred
Santa Claus
could not leave me his present
because there were many empty wine bottles on the floor
and it was impossible to come without making noise
The Three Wise Men
did not dare to appear to my home
because they travel by camel
She gave me a chance
without baring in mind
that I am I
and that it is useless
such as give a cannibal a spoon.

Lázaro

He asked me what poetry was
and I answered him:
It is all which seems to fall
and it stands by itself.

The most terrible of all.

The most terrible of all
is to discover your absence
and see
that you do not hide in it…

Without any reason

You will be far away from me day by day
Too far that I will not have any remembers
Too far that it will be like being passed away
You will be going from me
Leaving me day by day
And I will be very lonely each day
You will continue be staying apart from me
You will continue be leaving far far away
Leaving me
As if I was passed away
As if you were to pass away
Without any reason

Still

I know now that
You have to stop watching
to see
I know that you have to stop looking for
To find
and forget love
all that it means
when you say: I love you
if it is not like this, how can I explain
that I can feel you here, next to me
even when you have already gone
a long time ago

Innocence

She is barefoot in the hotel’ room
playing with her fingers on the bed
and waiting for the cold rain
which baptize our bodies
while I’m afraid of somebody
throwing the door down at any moment
nowadays, many years later,
I can confess
that I blushed
for the things I thought when I saw her like this.

Hard bread

There is no much for discovering
I say to myself while I give
Five steps
Inside the room and
I cross it
from side to side.
and the love is a mirror
impenetrable
opposite to that I sit down
to smoking
and the days are
a short walk in a car
hard bread under the arm.
At least I still have coffee
and a few magazines
to cut words away,
i want to say,
It's cold
but
there is hope.