A word on poetry

Poetry just is
I’ve seen it
Felt it
Suffer it…
You know a girl asked me
As the day was rising
What is it that one needs
To make poetry ?
What is a writer
Where lays the science ?
You know darling
There’s no secret to dancing
Everything has poetry within,
Everything you see
Everyone you meet
Everything you feel
You just have to live
And live, girl, live
Until there’s no need
No greed, no fear
And say everything there’s to say
And write every trouble in your head
Make it all fade into the shades;
Burn all the pages,
Poetry like life has no science
Just what we make out of it
So don’t ask me
And go after it.


The wanderings around the lighthouse

‘Written in a dream, 04/17’

There is this light
that never goes off
it’s for sailors to row
and to humans enlight.
We live our lives
without knowing what to do
how to process
this hell we live in.
Nature is beautiful
and we’re part of that beauty
we feel and we meet
other people without expecting or greed.
There’s a garden in front of me
filled with long long weed
and some tulips grow here
to give color; to this dream.
Am I awake ?
Is this all fake?
Are people really that insane ?
I sit here watching her
put her shades on
as the wind blows
I can’t help but think
that this is all a dream
and that tomorrow morning
everything will disappear.
As I kiss your sweet lips
I am certain about
the contract I’ve just signed;
that states that one day
not far from this highway
I will suffer for you
and a thousand songs
will be composed
about you.

The need for nature 

Why is it so difficult 

In today’s society 

To just feel the cult 

And forget the prophesy. 

The one that tell us 

That we are trapped 

In the hands of time 

And wasting our life. 

Why is it 

That the only thing I want 

Is so simple 

Therefore there is mystery. 

Your soul I’m missing 

Your arms so strong for that body, 

Your eyes so beautiful for that oddly 

Face you like to wear. 

Could real love be crashed by this World ?

Could time tear appart everything we fought for? 

Could you feel the words I write inside you? 

The ones I never mentioned before meeting you?

I am losing my mind 

As happiness is trying to grow 

And it gets pulled out by this World, 

That seems so uncertain

And constantly unpleasant 

Compared to the poetry I forge. 

So when you see me next time 

Don’t fool me or ask me 

About the legendary advent 

That never made me its way to me 

Between all this petrified scent 

That comes out of my mouth. 

How can I know that I’m right 

If I can’t contemplate it from far, 

Away from this sad sad faces 

Melting into Nature laces, 

Fighting the forgiveness 

Away with my loneliness. 

Madre, creadora

Sabes que eres la mejor
En todo lo que haces
Desde el paraíso
O de la tierra en la que yaces.
Nunca he encontrado
Las letras para describir
Tu fuerza de León
Tu canto de guadalquivir.
Pero mas a sabiendas
Deberías tu conocer
Los frutos de tu querer,
La vida que empreñas.
Tu lucha es inspiración
Para mi y mi caparazón
Tu grandeza se compara
A la época romana.
Madre, creadora
Que la aventura adoras
Naturaleza luchadora
Que todos honran
Eres tu el ejemplo único
Que nutre este cerebro lúdico.