a poem

I was the poet of the blind
Pleasure of the unkind
Trashed, as paper white

I was singer of the death
Woman of a kind
I was there
Towards the wild

As the wind blows away
The many things once were, are gone for a little while
I used to swipe the floors, with hours
Live my own time
I couldn’t care
No questions asked
I couldn’t hide those, filthy hours
I was also there,
in every face I masked

But now I am, still I am
The poet of the blind, standing on the sand
Dancing with the dunes
Playing with my moon
Singing echoes to the divine
A poet on the sand. Arising from the wasteland!

And just because,
I have come from the deepest of waters!
My heart is all it matters
At the end of all times
There will be no dust, just wind
A mad devious wind, shimmering till dusk
Everything will be blind!
Do we need one wish?
One dime?
All we need is to trust
The lust is lost at last
come on and find me!

Here I pulse
Here I bleed
I am sweat!
I am tears!
I am laughter!
This is, me
Me, I am
All of me!

<< Me >>

My senses are portal
Unknown to all fears
I can feel the power of my soul, immortal
My soul kissing,
my soul merging these words to the world!
So there and…
Here I also dare!
I still, don’t care!
Here I go!
I go with the beauty!
I go with the beast!
I stand on the sand
I stand on my feet

<< You >>

Look into my eyes,
my black golden eyes,
and gaze this liquid earthy fire, passion, love and combustion
With this cry I’m telling you,
all it takes is to try,
The world is my song
And this soul, mi amor
This soul never dries

And just because…

I have come from the bluest of waters!
With bright notes and glittery!
Sparkling in music, I am floating in the salty clouds
Ears could be deaf
What I had lost in sound
I have found in myself


I hold my breath underneath these waters, caressing my fragility
Then I sink(sick) (feels) my head, into the tranquil oceans
I keep holding my breath to forget my gravity, and don’t
I am holding my breath just because I have it!
I am alive and I am not surrendering!

<< She >>

She is in c o n t r o l
Painting waves,
here she goes
No bridge. No water
The rain? Is laughter
She comes back soaked
in sticky honey
This girl in my skin is smiling-burning like, money

I have come.

– Could this be the truth, the one and only truth chanting behind the universal silence? –

(Nothing) knows

Nothing. Knows

And just because,
let me tell you that,
I have come from the highest of waters
At the end of all times
This girl wont be burning
I shall evaporate
Towards the sun
And, the end?
The end will see this silly smile of mine


I have come

from all of, the waters.

As deep
As high
As blue
As heavy
As fluid
As a woman

Of a kind.