Que trae el día de la Cronica de la Tormenta?
La desesperanza de las palabras donde alguna vez hubo una mejor alegría.
La pregunta constante de donde esta lo divino y el orden en el caos, o es que acaso dicho orden simplemente excede ya mis entenderes humanos.
Mis fallas evidente y mi esperanza de resistir el mal o de percibir si hay bien.
Dejar ir sin quedarse mas que con los cambios provocados...
Allí donde las lineas de lo correcto y lo incorrecto desaparecen.
Se me confunden y provocan todo tipo de problemas
Soy al final, un mero yo como ha de quedar, y no hay opción sino levantarme, continuar, surgir.
El fuerte sol no es lo que mas quema en la cronica de esta tormenta, apagada en un lado reavivada y vuelta suave brizna en otro.
Stay stay here my dear, while I face this double edged sword
Have faith please I shall survive for you
Rise let's rise and change a world not so right.
martes, 14 de julio de 2009
jueves, 9 de julio de 2009
Chuu Chuu
Allí escucho a lo lejos el chuu chuu venir a por todos mis hermanos y por mi; nuestra madre ha dicho que le hemos de esperar.
Por un chuu chuu enorme y azul que nos lleve de aquí.
Y ella se ha quedado atras,
Nos ha enviado con burro y con ropas,
mas nada de afecto y ningun beso de camino.
Nos vamos en el chuu chuu los ruidos nos ensordecen
Al norte lejano vamos, eso escuche decir, acaso era el oeste?
Se borra la vida en el horizonte?Se borran los recuerdos mal pegados.
Se busca el futuro en urbes con poca esperanza.
Donde la disciplina de los viejos nos ha de mantener bien despiertos.
Y el chuu chuu se torna de ruido ensordecedor en una canción de cuna.
Para dormir un a última vez con la infancia entre los ojos.
Por un chuu chuu enorme y azul que nos lleve de aquí.
Y ella se ha quedado atras,
Nos ha enviado con burro y con ropas,
mas nada de afecto y ningun beso de camino.
Nos vamos en el chuu chuu los ruidos nos ensordecen
Al norte lejano vamos, eso escuche decir, acaso era el oeste?
Se borra la vida en el horizonte?Se borran los recuerdos mal pegados.
Se busca el futuro en urbes con poca esperanza.
Donde la disciplina de los viejos nos ha de mantener bien despiertos.
Y el chuu chuu se torna de ruido ensordecedor en una canción de cuna.
Para dormir un a última vez con la infancia entre los ojos.
miércoles, 8 de julio de 2009
STAAARS
A zombie killing stars...
Or a ship crossing amongst them
And I feel I've been out there so far away, that I know of spring in the planets were it is beauty and of winter in giant thermal bodies.
You traveled me all around...
And how will I describe?
Of those darken hair of yours, entwined with all the tragedies and good memories of your own tale
Yer very eyes, still full of light and somedays consumed by some darkness
And the hope, that very hope so alive I can feel it all across the night
It can invade me.
And no defenses I do have
For your rounded enlighted soul.
The sphere of yer spirit and will
Indeed of some power you've been granted.
Or a ship crossing amongst them
And I feel I've been out there so far away, that I know of spring in the planets were it is beauty and of winter in giant thermal bodies.
You traveled me all around...
And how will I describe?
Of those darken hair of yours, entwined with all the tragedies and good memories of your own tale
Yer very eyes, still full of light and somedays consumed by some darkness
And the hope, that very hope so alive I can feel it all across the night
It can invade me.
And no defenses I do have
For your rounded enlighted soul.
The sphere of yer spirit and will
Indeed of some power you've been granted.
sábado, 4 de julio de 2009
Day of Independence
Cuando los caminos se han cruzado pero las historias aun corren paralelas, las espadas tratan de verse en medio de sueño y el viento golpea los cabellos de aquella persona que deseaba morir, y solo espero que un año despues el sombrio pensamiento se haya desquebrajado sin bases ni motivos actuales.
No puedo explicar el porque de las cosas salvo que ocurren por algo y que no se puede omitir este proposito y objetivo al final.
En estos días la fortaleza de un guerrero no se puede medir siempre por el arrojo con el que decide encarar la muerte sino mas bien porque decida encarar algo que bien puede tornarse mas siniestro, mas dispar.
La vida
E imagino solo imagino un sol que no quema, y una sequedad en el aire, un viento que poco sopla, revolviendo los cabellos en su rostro, el sonido de los autos, parasitos inmersos en sus propios seres. Y nadie pregunta que hace ella allí.
Y yo le pregunto como es que decidió dar media vuelta, y decidió confrontar lo que quedara guardado para ella, sin que nadie sino ella misma decidiera sobre el fin y o los actos traicioneros o sin escrupulos de otros.
Mira por donde los hilos pasaban por sus brazos, mientras arrastra cuerdas en las piernas que decide cortar.
Un día despues escuchara al mundo decirle en retraso y demora “Estas bien? oye no lo hagas“ y reira.
Porque ha empezado a jugar con la gravedad y las alturas, la otrora decision es un juego porque ella ha decidido encarar.
Y el karma monstruo y ángel de mil formas le muestra, no con alguien mas, porque los demas son perifericos a lo que ella misma es sino con sus propios relatos y ocurrires que es su momento de ascender nunca de caer.
Lo contrario para aquel con quien una vez fue.
Celebra su día de la Independencia, le otorgo el tiempo y actividad que prefiera sabiendo bien que al final reclamara y se dara cuenta de lo sombrio que todo puede ser, de las oportunidades que no se llegan a oscurecer.
Rie del relato de su padre, hombre imperfecto.
Observa el cielo gris lleno de gatos mientras sonrie.
Come lo preparado por su madre, le agradece.
Observa los movimientos de su hermano y sigue riendo.
Brilla en ese cielo vespertino al reir.
Allí donde sus lagrimas brillaban destellando oscuridad.
Allow all the strenght I can shelter within myself to keep her shining for herself as it should have always been.
Till the day she shines so clear...
No puedo explicar el porque de las cosas salvo que ocurren por algo y que no se puede omitir este proposito y objetivo al final.
En estos días la fortaleza de un guerrero no se puede medir siempre por el arrojo con el que decide encarar la muerte sino mas bien porque decida encarar algo que bien puede tornarse mas siniestro, mas dispar.
La vida
E imagino solo imagino un sol que no quema, y una sequedad en el aire, un viento que poco sopla, revolviendo los cabellos en su rostro, el sonido de los autos, parasitos inmersos en sus propios seres. Y nadie pregunta que hace ella allí.
Y yo le pregunto como es que decidió dar media vuelta, y decidió confrontar lo que quedara guardado para ella, sin que nadie sino ella misma decidiera sobre el fin y o los actos traicioneros o sin escrupulos de otros.
Mira por donde los hilos pasaban por sus brazos, mientras arrastra cuerdas en las piernas que decide cortar.
Un día despues escuchara al mundo decirle en retraso y demora “Estas bien? oye no lo hagas“ y reira.
Porque ha empezado a jugar con la gravedad y las alturas, la otrora decision es un juego porque ella ha decidido encarar.
Y el karma monstruo y ángel de mil formas le muestra, no con alguien mas, porque los demas son perifericos a lo que ella misma es sino con sus propios relatos y ocurrires que es su momento de ascender nunca de caer.
Lo contrario para aquel con quien una vez fue.
Celebra su día de la Independencia, le otorgo el tiempo y actividad que prefiera sabiendo bien que al final reclamara y se dara cuenta de lo sombrio que todo puede ser, de las oportunidades que no se llegan a oscurecer.
Rie del relato de su padre, hombre imperfecto.
Observa el cielo gris lleno de gatos mientras sonrie.
Come lo preparado por su madre, le agradece.
Observa los movimientos de su hermano y sigue riendo.
Brilla en ese cielo vespertino al reir.
Allí donde sus lagrimas brillaban destellando oscuridad.
Allow all the strenght I can shelter within myself to keep her shining for herself as it should have always been.
Till the day she shines so clear...
viernes, 3 de julio de 2009
Dante's infernum Cantos I
She kisses briefly, then a cloak makes her dissapear inside the shadows of a world that is already possesed and haunted by the ghosts of our minds.
A smile between shadows and the tunnel is at the other side.
Endless stairs going down. The red of the evening becomes a red of a fire not so pure and not so harmless. And so the tunnels keep going among not darkness but some light worse than...
Finally the train already on fire with the red of burning corpses and a unique smell that even can take comes by. A great silluette comes in one of the sides, nothing more than the shadow of a raven terrifying and powerful. This shadow stops just with the train. And the long wings take their form of cloak, yet too different from the one I left in the world...
The grey skin and the enormous eyes appear and they see motionless hardly breathing, expressing nothing.
-Are you goinf to walk in our living hell? As if your world wasn't hell enough?
-I am hiding trying to think a strategy.-I answer shy over such a impossing figure.
-A most inadequate place you choose mortal.
-If the daughter of a demon says so.-And then I take the train. A corpse with a ring is there
-This path goes to all the people you do admire.
-I do know
Then silence
The tunnel becomes something different soon after the train starts moving.
Great bodies of water all around, and human figures crawling around the trails...only to be splattered all around.
Lights within the water and rain all around an underground rain that seems unhealthy for all of them rooting in the marshes.
The burned corpses in a corner began to move a brief but fierce terror comes to me, but my guide looks all around a little bored.
Only one such a “corpse“ moves, normal all in all except for the head, a red blur is seeing around an eye and I think I can see trough it.
That girl shall have my age, the only eye stares at me.
-She wants to tell you something-The titanic figure says.
I walk slowly...Yes I do know who she is although I do not recognize her.
-Anatolio never ever believed us about your demise
-Who's him?
-A classmate just like me.
-I do not know any of you.
-Then what do you want to tell me?
-Why are you not afraid of me?-A question after a question makes little sense if at all
-I know how it ended.
-No you don't, you do not know why and you do not know how...exactly.
-Hence are you nothing but my image of you?
-Do you needed someone to be in this hell? Someone you ever talked to? Someone who killed herself? Am I that? For no one of your family will wait you here. In the land of deads and traitors am I the only one up to the task?
I smile I know I shouldn't
-Then i have no words for you, for I am here either for your mind to understand or not. But I am not the only one, this path leads to your heroes, and Why oh Why all of your heroes are here?
-They are human...
-They are, a little too much
She crawls the ceiling, goes out in a window and splashes in the marshes.
-She killed herself.-I mention to my guide.
-Oh really?-She says in such a ironic tone.
-Won't you tell me about this place?
-I am no poet.-A bubble gum explodes all around her mouth and a black tongue comes to put all of it in place.
Hell is made of water.
Hell is made of a planet way to big that seems to small when the train stops and I go to the mountains I can see the gray sky, and the thunders are louder, the heat is almost untakeable. some slaves down there do their chores, efficiently, are they any less human than the Harkonnen leading them? Am I any less human?
The rain keep hitting the planet hitting it hard.
Mistakes of the past will eat alive one of such slaves, and the other is such of a mistery...
Slavory with other name, and the planet gives black diamonds...
Hell is made of water and I keep going
Just a river away of the mountains and the mines the echoes of a madman's voice haunts the whole place, inviting, and truthsounded, one can take the effort to see the man but looking to the eyes of my guide I know the truth, those are all lies to the easygoings and one pays dearly to go with that voice.
Once you walk away the voice starts sounding plain and bluffing, uneducated, unfair...and then comes the dictator
Of no Harkonnen house the man dresses in purple and a smile hooked on his face, another one talks but he controls the sounds, in his hands; giant machines hit with nothing but sound.
-They look familiar.-Says my guide all inmerse in her own shadows.
Around the madman there is a dancer man entertaining him and a banished prince in that place for being weak enough to let his sister to beat him ultimately, The princess of Troy moves them all three somehow. All around a multitude seems to do something that at the same time looks like nothing or like a rococo version of something far more useful without the details.
And so we keep going trough the dark forest.
-Here you lost your war-The Raven says,-Here is hell then, and there is water in heaven and hell all the same.-To the west and south there is no hell for you sleeped there in the midst of cold air, and you saw without seeing and that is still a good memory isn't it? Shall I damn you for it is a good memory.
-Such circle is closed.-I can only answer-But it was different yes indeed.
-Well then perhaps there is someone in hell waiting you there.
-No man will go other than myself.
-Quite correct.
And so here in hell it turns out is the corrupted part of me.
I am no longer alive yet i am not dead
This spirit says
For here I found a place to work
Out of the sight of my lord
Out of respect for the world
I do exist and you cannot neglect that, you're doing this journey to collect me
For within me there is the solution to your trouble
And my purpose is your very own.
Still you fear me and killed me
For you desired so hard to have your complex
Where has this complexe lead you?
But into the arms of despair.
What oh what great deeds can we do
If working like one piece
You want to defeat your once master and that only demons can make.
You want you know, your actions are not out of good
but out of a spirit of vengeance that I can merge with you again
And the skull on fire shall burn your enemies
The images of the burning corpses comes to me
And I say not to the young man dressed like a priest
For my complexe shall at the end lead me to safety
Or so I must say
-The circle of fallen awaits.-The Raven guide says and inside shadows we both dissapear
The young man corrupted with the face of an angel and thinking himself full of social potential hits his throne hard and the hand dissapears with the hit. Of the rest I can't tell for we leave.
Oh such pain in the circle of fallen ones, for me it is a circle of heroes, but they all suffer, at the end they all failed, they remind me of me like no other vision and no other being, the circle of fallen is the ninth one of another hell, but this is my version, it exist as a decaying parking lot, and among men there are ideas, for ideas represent just the same.
A smile between shadows and the tunnel is at the other side.
Endless stairs going down. The red of the evening becomes a red of a fire not so pure and not so harmless. And so the tunnels keep going among not darkness but some light worse than...
Finally the train already on fire with the red of burning corpses and a unique smell that even can take comes by. A great silluette comes in one of the sides, nothing more than the shadow of a raven terrifying and powerful. This shadow stops just with the train. And the long wings take their form of cloak, yet too different from the one I left in the world...
The grey skin and the enormous eyes appear and they see motionless hardly breathing, expressing nothing.
-Are you goinf to walk in our living hell? As if your world wasn't hell enough?
-I am hiding trying to think a strategy.-I answer shy over such a impossing figure.
-A most inadequate place you choose mortal.
-If the daughter of a demon says so.-And then I take the train. A corpse with a ring is there
-This path goes to all the people you do admire.
-I do know
Then silence
The tunnel becomes something different soon after the train starts moving.
Great bodies of water all around, and human figures crawling around the trails...only to be splattered all around.
Lights within the water and rain all around an underground rain that seems unhealthy for all of them rooting in the marshes.
The burned corpses in a corner began to move a brief but fierce terror comes to me, but my guide looks all around a little bored.
Only one such a “corpse“ moves, normal all in all except for the head, a red blur is seeing around an eye and I think I can see trough it.
That girl shall have my age, the only eye stares at me.
-She wants to tell you something-The titanic figure says.
I walk slowly...Yes I do know who she is although I do not recognize her.
-Anatolio never ever believed us about your demise
-Who's him?
-A classmate just like me.
-I do not know any of you.
-Then what do you want to tell me?
-Why are you not afraid of me?-A question after a question makes little sense if at all
-I know how it ended.
-No you don't, you do not know why and you do not know how...exactly.
-Hence are you nothing but my image of you?
-Do you needed someone to be in this hell? Someone you ever talked to? Someone who killed herself? Am I that? For no one of your family will wait you here. In the land of deads and traitors am I the only one up to the task?
I smile I know I shouldn't
-Then i have no words for you, for I am here either for your mind to understand or not. But I am not the only one, this path leads to your heroes, and Why oh Why all of your heroes are here?
-They are human...
-They are, a little too much
She crawls the ceiling, goes out in a window and splashes in the marshes.
-She killed herself.-I mention to my guide.
-Oh really?-She says in such a ironic tone.
-Won't you tell me about this place?
-I am no poet.-A bubble gum explodes all around her mouth and a black tongue comes to put all of it in place.
Hell is made of water.
Hell is made of a planet way to big that seems to small when the train stops and I go to the mountains I can see the gray sky, and the thunders are louder, the heat is almost untakeable. some slaves down there do their chores, efficiently, are they any less human than the Harkonnen leading them? Am I any less human?
The rain keep hitting the planet hitting it hard.
Mistakes of the past will eat alive one of such slaves, and the other is such of a mistery...
Slavory with other name, and the planet gives black diamonds...
Hell is made of water and I keep going
Just a river away of the mountains and the mines the echoes of a madman's voice haunts the whole place, inviting, and truthsounded, one can take the effort to see the man but looking to the eyes of my guide I know the truth, those are all lies to the easygoings and one pays dearly to go with that voice.
Once you walk away the voice starts sounding plain and bluffing, uneducated, unfair...and then comes the dictator
Of no Harkonnen house the man dresses in purple and a smile hooked on his face, another one talks but he controls the sounds, in his hands; giant machines hit with nothing but sound.
-They look familiar.-Says my guide all inmerse in her own shadows.
Around the madman there is a dancer man entertaining him and a banished prince in that place for being weak enough to let his sister to beat him ultimately, The princess of Troy moves them all three somehow. All around a multitude seems to do something that at the same time looks like nothing or like a rococo version of something far more useful without the details.
And so we keep going trough the dark forest.
-Here you lost your war-The Raven says,-Here is hell then, and there is water in heaven and hell all the same.-To the west and south there is no hell for you sleeped there in the midst of cold air, and you saw without seeing and that is still a good memory isn't it? Shall I damn you for it is a good memory.
-Such circle is closed.-I can only answer-But it was different yes indeed.
-Well then perhaps there is someone in hell waiting you there.
-No man will go other than myself.
-Quite correct.
And so here in hell it turns out is the corrupted part of me.
I am no longer alive yet i am not dead
This spirit says
For here I found a place to work
Out of the sight of my lord
Out of respect for the world
I do exist and you cannot neglect that, you're doing this journey to collect me
For within me there is the solution to your trouble
And my purpose is your very own.
Still you fear me and killed me
For you desired so hard to have your complex
Where has this complexe lead you?
But into the arms of despair.
What oh what great deeds can we do
If working like one piece
You want to defeat your once master and that only demons can make.
You want you know, your actions are not out of good
but out of a spirit of vengeance that I can merge with you again
And the skull on fire shall burn your enemies
The images of the burning corpses comes to me
And I say not to the young man dressed like a priest
For my complexe shall at the end lead me to safety
Or so I must say
-The circle of fallen awaits.-The Raven guide says and inside shadows we both dissapear
The young man corrupted with the face of an angel and thinking himself full of social potential hits his throne hard and the hand dissapears with the hit. Of the rest I can't tell for we leave.
Oh such pain in the circle of fallen ones, for me it is a circle of heroes, but they all suffer, at the end they all failed, they remind me of me like no other vision and no other being, the circle of fallen is the ninth one of another hell, but this is my version, it exist as a decaying parking lot, and among men there are ideas, for ideas represent just the same.
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