Poems Of Love, Pain and Hope

DRESSED IN RAIN

Sap of our stations

Lean ground, open and torn.

Deforestation, flooding your candles sad

collapse and carnage of your epicenter.

As we mark the memory a tombstone, shepherding the will of oblivion.

We've cut, breaking the virginity of your woods.

Roar like a wounded animal, extend your cry of anguish

leaving behind you a remnant of fallen trees,

branches and dead animals.



Earth, beautiful, wild, in the mind of your forest.

Scattered in the future dream spinning bitterness.

Wild and ravenous, you have insulted

with the tracks of the mountain, as predators,

as savage barbarians violence to the territory of silence

and divert your ancestral channels forged years

on your wise decision for the conservation and life of all your species.

Signs in the sky, at night the same dream;

Sagacious, thinking ourselves wiser we burst

transgressing indigenous territories,

cradle of eternal wisdom.



Dressed in rain all over your body reflects the harsh winter

Scornful of the past and the future of this framework the cataclysm

on the faces of our children.

Vines and leaves, deep claw pops and versatile exalted on the horizon

destroying your beauty when the man breaks.

We are the perpetual sunset, the bifurcation of contempt,

the constellation of death that hovers in every corner of the universe.

Garbage, destruction ...

Usurpation of lichen and the caterpillar, the pink dolphin, the weak butterfly.

Erected as gods catapulted the spring,

chained summer.



Scrub burning yourself is all in balance,

is a glorious revival in the morning star assaults

Moon and woven into the treasury of your body.

You are the eternal watch a rebirth that collapses

like a flame of death on your skin exploited

on the slope of the trace that man has identified

with their cruelty and contempt.

DEATH



Invisible thread, thin and fleeting,

Where wound firewood crackling life.

An abysmal path separates us, moves us away

From that dreams and utopias vágatela

When the thin thread breaks and within seconds

Death lurks.



Limit unfathomable, deep and eternal,

Not sensed even ...

Omen that no weaves,

Bolts of light lying on the horizon of the earth,

Waking, dream and die.

Around the world, from nothing, from total darkness.



Sky of consciousness which links

leaving behind a large network of pain.

Turns, maze, paradigms and mysteries

that hover like cobwebs in their slow

and lush gardens of insanity and madness.



Death round his relentless ticking

Slow and steady, never-ending pendulum hanging

weak over our lives doing the carriage of fate.

Thin thread, invisible and ephemeral that it breaks

before the incredulous eyes in a dull rattle

snatching the most lofty or simple dreams.



Silence impatient, times dilated,

intoxication of the senses, bitter dawn.

Interrupted by the whispers claim the coffin is drawn

on the red carpet.

Vista evening twilight without omen

vifurcan roads that never to return.

Thread the end crunching when the night fades

A LEGEND GOES ON MY SKIN



Unable to share my silence,

multiplying and out my fears,

devouring every inch of the reality that surrounds me;

looking for the last witness, the last chimera,

I am just lonely ...

Just before eternity,

anything that covers my writing

I speak of the coming time.



Mountain and valley of misery invisible

homelessness as the land itself,

as the shame of the traveler,

like the flood of the ocean

death or end ...

A legend travels through my skin

wreaking havoc.

Thinking, elucidating

and unable to contain the carnage,

circumnavigation of thought.

I plunge into the river at night,

look at the stars and dream.



Like a wave, perhaps as a kite

My hands slide slowly

through time.

I devour the eternity of the wind and listen to one to one

the sounds of silence;

the desire to share, talk to the man of war,

of the barbarism, cruelty.

Mutism, that is the reality that I can not understand;

high walls, high, giant erect before me.

Another language?

It is the barbarity, the cruelty that hides behind the silence.

From heaven descended mortars, bombs;

the cry of death lies, it expands.

Chimeric mutilation when we invade the street

heard the last cry.



Expectant



Just a cry from the past who never lies,

Wind in the rock, my testimony.

Ineffable, translucent is the essence,

the melody of your voice, your smile.

Of all things, sunflower, steppe

lying on your lips

echoing in the memory.

Thunder and lightning, fire window,

deep coalition.



Elegy for my receipt, your voice weak;

hurricane that grows underground

humanity over the summer flick of your skin.

I love you, echoes deaf

a stampede of kisses,

is throwing darts in the wind,

let your pores vegetation invades me;

bouquet that is lost

tired and wounded the pride of your breasts.



? Ngel content, heart of ice,

iceberg solo sailing the open sea ...

Once you exciting naked, naked you look helpless;

I want to be a wolf, crawl on your pores,

blaze a trail with my fingers,

to find you, for knowing you mine.



Turbión returning solitary delivery of desire ...

Empire of the stalks cry when your lips open

and filled you with my kisses.

Stunned, expectant wind widens

like an old boat anchor on your body.



I want to break the scream, unleash the storm,

let the thread of water, the echo pulsing

expand all now as then,

now as ever,

you and me before yesterday that never lies.



Breaking Point



Everything comes at the end point of bankruptcy,

voracious howl expiration litany who drowns,

is distended, it expands, spreads, attacks and points ....

volatilized as a spear thought,

dreams and ends up collapsing in the throes of an uncertain future.



Broken Wings, incense burned,

add secret brotherhood of isolation and boredom.

At the height of the night choking voice,

Come the questions, the delay that pain

You press the chest, choking,

What does exist life and love.

Cross Roads, a desert magazine

That expands the thought,

Leaking as a stigma of fire and sky.



Everything comes to end ... memories, fantasies,

Landscape that blends into the awful loneliness

Which attacks, attacking, dipping

Fire clay, altar of light,

landscape of the moon to light me.

Your eyes are a reflection of the night,

darkness deepens.



Just a cry from the past who never lies,

Wind in the rock, my testimony.

Ineffable, translucent is the essence,

the melody of your voice, your smile.

Of all things, sunflower, steppe

lying on your lips

echoing in the memory.



Thunder and lightning, fire window,

profound union.

Elegy for my receipt, your voice weak;

hurricane that grows underground

humanity that crackles over the summer of your skin.

I love you, is a single dull echo,

a stampede of kisses,

is throwing darts in the wind,

leave your pores vegetation invades me;

bouquet that is lost

tired and wounded the pride of your breasts.



? Ngel content, heart of ice,

iceberg solo sailing the open sea ...

Once you exciting naked, naked you look helpless;

I want to be a wolf, crawl on your pores,

blaze a trail with my fingers,

to find you, for knowing you mine.



Turbión returning alone to deliver the wish ..

E empire lurks cry when your lips open

and filled you with my kisses.

Stunned, expectant widens wind

like an old boat anchor on your body.

I want to break the scream, unleash the storm,

let the thread of water, the echo pulsing

expand all now as then,

now as ever,

you and me before yesterday that never lies

finding the total calm, ecstasy ...



in that eternal oblivion that we:

The memory.

ETERNAL REST



Blood reverses the essence of life,

reborn in a cry of loneliness,

overflows and collapses like a crown of thorns;

shaking the storm of misery blood boils,

trail of fire makes on your skin.



As you ride a buffalo stampede after a dream,

freedom that is tied into your throat

and died in the bloody festival called life

The path forks, open, widen, not close,

by storm hovers over you at night and without a fixed North

You drift marked traces of loneliness and neglect.



Reproach or truth: you are condemned to die in exile

of a land that is flooded with contempt

to the dark hand of death that eats away the last hope,

the last vestiges of a past that was never yours

and a present which you only know the word "uncertain".



Blood poured the essence, overflows and disrupts the balance,

an essentially meaningless, since you were sentenced from

the womb of her who cursed your birth;

an omen of contempt now cracks in your skin from the dungeon of life.

Blood poured, reverse, crucify, anchor, overflowing

and dies in front of the gallows of the night with her mantle

spreads its wings and crowns you with misery.



Death lurks, perhaps exit, choice,

the breaking point where it is bounded

your present from the past and knowing you open the doors of a new option:

to laugh, to mourn or to die ...

blood returns to leave their trail while your lonely

a desert of wallflowers looking forward to eternal rest.



Today I saw MARIA



Today I saw Mary, Mary saw the sad eyes,

of the beggar, who walks with the low forehead,

deserts eyes and a world without borders,

a world that does not belong, which has been deleted,

as a curse, as a stigma ...



I saw Mary with baby steps, such as telling their sorrows,

unwinding the beauty of yesterday, the melancholy ...

I saw her lying on the floor, dying slowly in a small sigh.

I saw her looking at the sky, leaving drag a tear,

I saw his body on the misery, pain, despair,

loneliness, exile ...



Mary saw the look is my look, maybe yours,

the eyes of a people groaning and crying with deception,

.. A village lies condemned to the gallows.

A people who die every day.

I saw the worker, the shoemaker, the farmer,

the displaced, the orphan, the helpless.



Today I saw Mary, my Mary who bore me,

the mother of silence, of grief,

which goes to market,

which delves into the flask in search of food,

Maria's neighborhood, the corner

sleeping on the sidewalk.



The Mary who collects cardboard, the vegetables,

Maria enduring, suffering, washing clothes,

to .. The Mary ironed violated, the reviled, the abused,

Maria from oblivion.



YOU CALL

Horde bloody plenilunio.Escritura Vastness of suicide arcane midnight silence eternal soldier, a vestige, a single memory, a single purpose: you call death.

A flower worn by time, which was destroyed in your arms to your grave espiga.Sobre spoken stories, a blanket is woven throughout time without misterios.Un crystalline spheres, without extensions, without torments call you hope.

As the voices of the rocks, as nocturnal birds of your steps, mystical, profound, full of peace and sosiegoSon your words, are the support of men, pentagram embroidered in silence: I call faith.

Caressing the skin is nourished vientoQue wise, livelihood, land, fecundity, fertility, coal mine on your skin, your eyes renewed Extension tired, uninhabited cave of stigma, secrecy lamentos.Tu deaf is the time where luzInescrutable draw past the flame, a torch that monitors the way everlasting: I call it peace.

You allegory of the night, Melody anointed of the warp, Flame of the precipice, with no echo, no voice from heaven rush like an avalanche, Choking rattle of deception and extensions; dialect without phonemes, sand blast, Your story is coal that bleeds into the wilderness, I call tragedy.

YOUR VOICE IS WORD

Mountain smiling, opal immersed, honey glazed, transparency of your eyes, voice is the voice of my voice, the sense of a word pueblo.La earth shelters, succumbs to the echo, is reborn and verb

unattainable realm where time fades, where the angels as stills opting your beauty. Pact of forgetting, a forgetting that pokes rooted your sueños.La flag flies over the earth floor, lift their wings up to heaven, descends into atoms of wind, is rooted in your body, it becomes a verb.

Beyond the pain, the love beyond the elegy, the alegría.Eres no man's land, a land of all. A land that is continent; your eyes open as you browse pielcuando glaucous about the vast horizon of my America.

Sacred Footprint of the Ancients, a feeling, a cry, an experience: Your poet in my Latin verses give us the vida.Tu light voice is the alabaster of the night, the intoxicating perfume, Your voice reaches the mine, the tunnel, turned to stone You get turbulence, rash verse, syrup of the seas, your voice is a verb

If I die before sunset, the incorrupt nirvana your verses, leave your mouth open, like in eternity drinking, Desert Quench knowledge, warm in the light of your land is my land versos.Tu America, your steps beautiful poet are mine, Volcano, fragrant stampede of stars, Your voice is the voice and the feeling of my people in letters became verb

PILGRIM

? Angel on the moon soft vuelacon sonnets to my labiosy me filled with dew, frost Pacific paz.Lluvia that carries me through the air flocks of fire and joy.

Island Princess Bella, beautiful girl American soil, your blood is a farmer, your blood is wind, the night breeze turned into a cane.

You lagrimahoy arrancándolea solitude leave us a legacy of sabiduría.Peregrina North and South latitude in your skin that vibrates to the beat of the people to look complacent smile dodge of the child, their voices traveling dragonflies nesting in your soul.

Voice of a guitar that looks after the birth of mankind: knowledge light, light that is letter, which is vocal pattern from your sueñosSi you do not let your lips goodbye, haggard gate that sighs and cries for your return .

You plow plowed on my skin ... I've dressed and star in my house quimeraY find a haven of tenderness, open my lips to yours, my voice like a chest to your penasY my being like a sea of ​​love your touch.

Leave the door sounding abiertasConcha pearl in the desert of my fingers, From the land of Fire, through Venezuela, to your beautiful Cuba, I'll call you and I recall that in my always be your shining star: Light of the storm, Reef Light, Light of the cliff, Light will always be your voice Pilgrim