to zion

Be careful with those who pretend to be brothers
We are here in the struggle for freedom
As a song that grieves for redemption
We will rise from the ruins of Babylon
And stay calm on the bank of a river.
Will you help to stay in this frame of mind?
Will you rise from ignorance and battle?
And be a true child to the nations of Zion
Keep away from mental slavery
Open your ears to the forthcoming prophets
They are here shouting, struggling against deafness,
They are True children of Zion.
There is nothing to guarantee completeness
Only the clean path to the absolutely truth
Lined by lines of green fresh leaves
Where the smell of suffuses all
Zion is here to stay
Zion is here to fight
Zion is here to be you
Zion is here and lives in me
Zion is Zion as Zion is Zion
In this land where calm has been forgotten
Along with the golden words and psalms
Only one thing is secured,
Sweet child of Zion:
Your armor in the struggle.

ode to dreams

Sleeping time comes abruptly
Dreams hanging are there extremely baffling
The maze of colors and shapes start making a point
of no regret.

A new baby borne
And the endless ladder
And again, a new baby borne
Eyes behold in the contradictory meanings
No man or woman am I
Dressed in clothes I do not know mine
Languages spoken with no memoir
Dream that I dream that I dream a dream
I dream
No shadow or greed suffuses
The purple sheets
Of my consciousness.
I’m out of this penitence,
Of the shadows and greed of others.

The air fills me up
And up I go
Between the trees at night
And sometimes the roof limits my view.
But the air is a threshold to fly
Dream that I fly while I dream that I dream
I dream
Words are heard and pedestrians listen, when I dream
Knocking on thousands of doors, I dream
Seeking for an unseen invaluable thing, I dream

Dream that I dream on a dream
I dream of me.

access

In my world of blue trees and bitter apples, only few people have access to the right code which allows them to peer through it. Only a few will receive my full attention, because butterflies keep me from listening the hums of those who create halos all around them, as if they were unreachable. I don’t pay attention to them, that is why I am an outsider.
In my silver world of paper birds and stamped words, only a few can understand my real passion for ephemeral wonders. So, don’t try to speak louder, I’m deaf to high pitches. Don’t come disguised in new colors; I merely see the primary ones.

on being tested, evaluated and so…

I should be able to write about anything, but sometimes I do not want to, I start writing about something and I get into a maze where nothing is quite clear. The problem is that the same happens to me during exams, I get overwhelmed by anxiety where everything is a heap of thoughts. I had to make a “comment” on a excerpt of a novel, where a could I have used a lot things that I do know, but instead of doing it properly, I ended up writting about good and evil and who knows waht. What it should have been a solid piece of land became a swamp full of branches, stranded, like always, with existential thoughts. 

garrison

I see the spots in my wallpaper and I think how those stains have changed so recently. I used to be fond of the red and blue, now I seek for stronger staggering colors, I need them to be close to me so I can be remembered that the change has to be imminent, and that the strength to achieve it must not be subsided. There will be no diversion, no opponent, if so… I will have to tackle it down.  

one of these days

Look at the pleas that fall.

I wish I had never have to taste them.

It is only the violet bumping furiously

The glasses with which my throat chokes, I harshly swallow

They are waiting up in the sky for the right moment

 Irritating noises

Irritating noises

Tell’em all

Tell’em all

never to fall

Is it only the smoke that keeps that holder?

Those little rounds apples in my cabinet?

Ignore, ignite and reload.