poem

Strangers in the city

As strangers in the city
Their eyes meet briefly in a terrible gaze
In the depths they see the emptiness

A hungerless abyss – terror inexpressible
As the pieces move on the chessboard
History, its strategy unknown and obscure
Layers of reality unfold
As strangers that we always are
Appendixes to a greater immeasurable reality
Suspended in our lonely ignorance

Sharing fleeting glances in our anonymity

POEM ii

POEM  ii

Why do I feel I must carry
in distress and despair
the weight of the universe
                       heavily laid on my back
 
How can I ignore the monumental,
the towers of suffering all life
must sooner or later endure
                       and perpetually misunderstand
 
How can silence substitute
the boundless pain in every
instant of transience,
                          every day and night
 
Inexpressible this senseless world!
But a spark of total nirvana
when submerged in this chaos
                         I let everything go…

POEM i

POEM  i

In every metamorphosis there is
a symbol of the eternal resurrection,
the thousand faces of a timeless world
                                   born forever anew
 
As we drift aimlessly within
the corridors of a flickering instant,
in the huge vaults of time immemorial
                                 Man asleep, awakens!
 
But the amnesia of the cosmos
eagerly consumes our monuments,
of a civilization new and wild
                               imprisoned on earth
 
If we escape from the shackles
of our legendary blindness,
above these clouds of galaxies,
                             darkness becomes light.

untitled poem

From where spawns the orgiastic revelry of words
The intimacy with language in its full ambiguity
The orgasmic explosion of poetry, rising from the
Deep unknown

The grand sea of letters that flourish in a titanic wave
Drowning the world with an army of symbols
And behold! They seize us like the fury of Jupiter
In the tempest of survival we hang to them
Our miseries have a name, they now bear a
Morbid face

Languidly reposing in the weaving of literature
The towers of pages whistling in the air
The voices, the cries and joys of forgotten lives
Many existences in a single sentence but a life
Never enough to peruse the endless deluge of
Human experiences

The lives of words carry the melancholy song
Of Death and Loss, perpetual fate of every born
Yet in lighter melodies thoughts inked in the past
Evoke the wonder of breathing, powerfully they are
Reminding us -the living- to seize the moment,
Always the moment.