Etiqueta: Poesía
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Sequía
Con las costras que dejó el estio,En esta piel seca que ya añoraba el viento.Sedienta de besos.
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Tap tap
I want to tap your shoulder with my head and hide my eyes under your breath.I want to see your heart besides my nose and place my hand in that smell of yours.I want to turn you inside out and read my luck in your stars.I want to dream my way out from your arms…
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Soaked
Oh, they’re gone.Time wasted,Time left,None around.A lonely tree waiting for rain.
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For Saint Exupery’s fox
First I draw.Second I think:What else do I need?A spell, I say. Cats on top of his list.I’m a single parent in need.English for proton’s sake.Otherwise, how do you speak? Handy and fun,Tall and lean…Slanted black eyes, yes sir.Honest and lively.A man in the house[1]?I back a bit on my needs.Still. It’s time to be…
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Dazzled by the dream of life
Around they say: Get a man, Get a sir, Get a night of one sky. I myself ain’t light, Neither star nor moon. Mostly a moth, Dazzled by the dream of life. Unbeloved to anyone. Still my own house. Composing a song I’ll sing alone. I can’t help it. I can’t get charmed by promises…
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Inconmensurable
Uno, dos, tres, cuarenta. Añade uno y uno más, Infinidad. Hablar de ello en años luz resulta en balde. Precipitado sobre sí mismo, Comprimido al peso de una estrella de neutrones, Es deseo. Un corazón humano que se traga todo. Y donde reboten los fotones, Todo tu ser es absorbido, En milagros technicolor mundo. Miro…
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Shall we wait?
Shall we wait for your return? Oh, my darling summer breeze. Even when shy, I would gladly take my time in a sloppy lazy mood, waiting for you. Oh my pair of beautiful gold eyes! You who stole my heart and pride!
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Penpal no. 17
Slow, slow.I’ve hurried before.Avoidant or needy,I want to change my old self.I’d love to be steady.Even if not ready.Thus letters are better.A bit dragging my feet,A bit moving on.Sometimes it’s not fun. Lento, lento. Me apresuré antes. Seca o encimosa, Deseo cambiar mi viejo ser. Ser un poco más constante, Si es que no estoy…
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Penpal no. 2
Whenever I think no more For it doesn’t come with doubt and yet I hope. For it is a pleasing sight to know I am. A slice of life you take out from time. Specially since you, a freaky freak I know; would be tucked away under snow. Can I learn to waltz this life…
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Penpal no. 1
When it is not on my table, I look far away. But once it’s there, white and squared, I can’t help my contempt and hate the carrier. For I wish I wasn’t so lorn of your read, my love. I expect and spend. I weave and wait. My heart a butterfly when I know it’s…