mystic flowers

Mystic flower poetry

I let go of the beard
and eyelids of God.
It will rain, the eyes of the earth
will go blind, white breathless turmoil.
A boy with books and grand prophesies,
composing the sadness of the final silence.
An epoch to remember what I wanted.
The river of visions carries skin and mirror,
a noise of nowhere and nobody’s scent.
What beastly ache to be a fleeting universe
with no country except the island of thought.
I have no beard and the nausea of mountains;
I have in my mouth the salty meat of the soul.



Nihilistic Poetry Blog

al camino

Camino poetry

That there are tiny creations
origins from stellar elements in the psyche:
reborn in the minute.

That in the pursuit of ancient bones
this foundation of dreams that is my body
will rest in one eternal sleep:
like grass midway.

I have no doubt.
I have been wrong. The road
is the answer, obscure
and incomprehensible.

To the camino.
Pursuing the weight of the earth
… humility.






(See you in three weeks...) 

el piojo

Poeta Dormido

La crin se desprende de la nuca
como una ola de etérea existencia,
siento ahí atrás de mi cabeza
como una melena de color y nube
fluye, entretejida, con la corriente
del universo –
mi tentación es volver a ver atrás
y caer atrapado entre curvas de pelo,
envuelto en esa tela de esencia
que me deja dormir
como un piojo poeta.

Poesía 2011

you as landscape

Intangible tree

You, flesh and bone,
gas and scars
of phenomena.

My hand slides down your ranges
into the pockets of pleasure,
the possibility of birth and gargantuan

The winding road of decisions
and the soporiferous wind blowing
of distant causes.

The trees have danced,
reenacting the groove of colliding
cosmic bulges in the rhythm
of passing gusts.

We do the same?
In silent gaze, creating
the torture of possibility
with endless and mapping thoughts?

You and winged beasts
from dawn. Red and innocent –
open mouth and chants
from the sky… where
we belong as tinges
of intangible.



Nihilistic Poetry Blog