Some poems from my NEW POEM BOOK (in process)

Desire, the one that never existed in life, flies in a thousand ways between imaginations and magical sensations. It flies so much, this singular desire that we all have, or that we once had, to demonstrate that although its presence is not seen or touched, it is as real as your beautiful body, very well entangled in mine, just at the moment of the most perfect love.

The desire wishing to be more, wishing to be recognized as something alive, and not just as a vile instinct of a hallucinatory fantasy, is infatuated day and night to be able to exist in the tangible universe of us living. Desire becomes air, becomes oxygen and passion; to start like this, to have full control. Then it dominates us, bewitches us and makes us behave like idiots for no reason.

What an unfavorable desire, is the one that constantly corners us and without fear, because in order to satisfy its manias as an arrogant executor, this same bankruptcy our harmonious balance and satisfaction; by convincing us that if we don’t move according to their instincts and idioms, without a doubt, we will immediately die in this corner.

The subtle song of you, low in beautiful touch, glides between enchanting colors and with the pertinence of an air that knows everything, slowly seduces you, towards the sea of ​​romance.

Happy life, magical euphoria that narrows the passions, is how I feel, your great pulse upholstering my duties.

My queen, blue sunset of perfect caress, you make me vindicate myself with the day, because you and your holy heaven, give me peace, nuance and tenderness, to continue with the going.

My beloved, delirious spell that inspires me, I give you today, this humble beautiful song, to tell you how much you inspire me, when in me you mean and how much I love you beyond measure.

Song, poetry, divine purity; or simply you, woman of enormous perfection, I thank you today for existing here; for being my beautiful light that never goes out; and for being that majestic muse, who undoubtedly sneaks between my fanciful pleas, and those covered in reality and texture.

Ridiculous world that makes seconds, you eat what happens and you ask me with demons; you are so absolute, although you fall at the same time. You are not a universe, but you resemble the cosmos in motion.

You, my world in orbit of mystery, my world so healthy, and at the same time so strange, you create versions of what is delivered in each magical encounter. You, my world of logic and feeling, are just a singular piece of breath, but for me, and for all of us who are, you are your whole life without any other remedy.

Voice of the sunset, you who illuminate, with blue and half faint disorders, the so exalted splendor of our skins, be in me, and in all those present, that force of hope that lifts us so much.

Sunset voice, poetic intonation that always sings to us, make what happens today, an avant-garde of absolute praise.

Voice of the sunset, awaken your boom and spread to the sweetest of our lap; Well, with merits of a subtle elegance, we both belong to the same harmony that tenderly embraces us.

Voice of the Sunset; voice of voices and of the infinite hidden wisdoms, dance as only you know, and give us this beautiful day.

Voice of the sunset, here I am and here I am, to listen to you, just like other times.

Empty like that, is the quiet but annihilating murmur of the endless thread of dreams and fantasies that imprison my breath. Everything begins with that first moment of silence, stillness and full confidence; once the lights, hanging from the ceiling, are forcefully turned off, to bring my mind, and my non-existent flight; to the grounds of my amazing subconscious.

There, I navigate in gaits, in emotions and in a myriad of situations; which, because of what is “normal” or “expected”, stun me by their lack of meaning, logic or order.

My thread stitching then begins in that peculiar place. A place where a lake purrs me, so similar to that lake, that it purred me when I was just a child.

However, after a soundless and airless snap, my wind, as strong as it is confused, appears next to a thousand lions. Tired and hungry lions, who begin to see me, as their most delicious molten feast. I am about to be devoured by those beasts full of divine fur; when the prayer of my soul, falls unexpectedly, on top of a wrapped world. Wrapped in the orbits of another much more dangerous, diffuse and greater.

For this reason, my wise and incandescent sanity is exposed between the contours, soft and faint, of an oasis of endless madness. With this already, my heart, apart from what I have lived, calls me in a thousand ways, as theoretical, as diverse, to be able to favor, my limited understanding; but because it is my spirit, the spell value of the fire, the ash or the immense rain that floods us, I lose the entire domain of my irremediable center.

In other words, my complete Self collapses. Although also, every time I wake up, on the infamous bones of my bed, my reality, encapsulated in the gifts of the morning, always tries to unburden myself, to recognize that again, as another fantastic trip, designed by the heartbeat and the inertia, of my many dreams, as changing as they are amazing.