Imperfect and voracious, the soul,
ceded Justice to the Law of Man...
Who would create his own Law
With moral imperfect...
... voracious.

* * *


NO to connvincing
YES to eternal PEACE

* * *


Someone, please!
I’m afraid.
Very Afraid.
I am trembling.
And hurt.
Is anybody there...
Who can decide for me?

* * *

The Embrace

No god will embrace you... if a child dies.

* * *

The Wall That We Observe

Once upon a time, there was a Wall that prevented people from escaping; people who would later be killed because of their origin.

Today, there is a Wall that prevents people who look for a better future from getting in, just because of their origin.

There is always a Wall.

And... just by chance... we fall on the side of the ones who want to get in, or the ones who try to get out.

All that matters is to see the Wall... and to carefully consider what we will do about those who are on the other side.

* * *


And the Beasts... far away.
The child... and his cry’s molecule... at the wind’s mercy, does not touch us.
The high yield plants spawned with thirst of victory; their Champion’s League against space.
Rough, the neighbor’s hand... abrades in slightest touch.
Far from the Beasts.

* * *

Where do I take my Flower?

Wet, in my red raincoat.
Look, Sir, how cold my hands are.
My turquoise eyes scold you
Where should I take my flower?

The sun drops on my port
Eyes flung to the sea
Half the globe prevents not
That I aim them to their spot.

I smother you and implore
Your gaze to fly far
Weep as I know your look
Over my shoulder sees my home.

Where should I take my flower?
Asks my young girl’s soul,
I tug at your trousers
Why don’t you hear me, Sir?

He can’t see my illusion
A red balloon, he might,
I bring it from my home
And inflated it with my song.

Many times have I lost my plane
Without knowing its destination
If you have no place
Then you cannot cry.

So my heart exploded.
The worst turbulence
Scares me less
Than not having a port

No one will hold you...
There’ll be no song...
A violin... an illusion...
That might push you on
Let it blow my balloon!
Let it blow my balloon!
Sweep me off to fly!

This cursed plane
Which I cannot read
Unfinished I remain...
Looking for the pieces
Of my wall...

I am now looking to nest...
On tiles I have dreamt...
My balloon will fly high
And all will see me
As one sees a song
That breaks your heart.

I stumble, but hold you
My embrace is my struggle
My eyes facing forward
And yours facing home

Where are you looking?
Where are you looking?
I try, I try, but I cannot know...

A tough road this is
The walking is not hard,
But I’m drowned by the sadness
I don’t know where to look.

Jump and dance... red balloon...
The wind will push you on
It’s never too late... never too late
My boots will follow on.

Puddle upon puddle,
The violins haunt a magic bridge
Crispy bread and candles
For dinner now await.

* * *

No one knows what I saw

No one knows what I saw
When I stopped to die a little
While I lost a shoe
To run faster
I turned into a burglar
And stopped looking
And stopped flying
And became fierce
And started screaming

The hardness of the sea
The violence of the sun
I offer you my heart
The bigger and the fiercer
You may sink like bait
Giant grey shadow
That screams and does not swim
Fear not my love
It’s cold and tears you up
The solitude of fright

With more pain may cure...

* * *

The best bread in Berlin

Which is the only truth, my God?
My intellect...
Summons fear: a dynamic duo

Oh! Brilliant machines
Yielded...Admitted unfruitful
Transport quickly
But don’t change their cargo.

What departs... is what arrives.
Metallic...bursting with envy:
A petal can do more.

A thousand maps cannot do more
Than the crackling crust
That guides my heart.

* * *

The saw

I suffer the myriad roads that open before me.
My plight does not end there.
Because I’m suffocated by two roads...
And in the middle a cold saw...
Sadistic...It smiles, savoring the tearing of my heart.
I want no suffering.
Mother... I am not made to suffer.
In my dreams the roads are an infinite cliff...
Inviting me... but I am comforted by its inevitability.
And... not suffering any more...
I fall...in a deep sleep like in your womb.
Oh, Mother...
There are no dangers there.

* * *

Remote Control

In the world... in my world...
The key is the fight for control.
Pumps thrust the liters of blood that my heart cannot supply.
What will my hands do with this control?

* * *


A: Excuse me, which way to “tighten”?
B: But... what is it you want to do?
C: I don’t know... I have a nut, in a motor, inside a world. And if I do nothing, I will drown. But I don’t know if I should turn it on, or take it apart.
C: Ohhh, then don’t worry... turn the nut in any direction. You’ll be fine...
A: Ahhhh (breathes relieved). Very kind. Thank you, Sir. Very considerate.
B: No problem. You’re welcome!

* * *

The weight of Freedom

I weep the blood spilt for liberty.
And it pains to have obtained it.

* * *


Painful- free-dom
Painfool freedom

* * *