Keep to the road

pepsi cap jingles on linoleum floor as it falls from a glass bottle in the afternoon cyber cafe,

I can feel how wonderous life is

from the rusty glass sunny windows and autumn breeze over the computer screens,

raspberry plastic juice bag and crunchy rice chocolate

to keep my belly full on a morning of wind and reality,

always on the move but I sit still here, embracing how life moves by,

at times it´s too slow

to even feel,

so I hope to keep to the road…

Drifting Thoughts

One slim glass of coca-cola iceless on wood mueble by my pillow where I rest my skin in motionless tranquility so as not to sweat in summer afternoon

adobe tile room,

150 pesos rusty golden coins, a receipt for tomatos, and old Motorola accompany the dewy glass as I sit

and occasionally miss my city as she drifts through my head like breath or waves,

and sometimes her memory even pounds against my bones like veins of blood trembling with heartbeat,

she will always be fuera de la realidad, for her hospitality is rough like pavement and her heart a jungle of chaos;

but her Dream is like roses, an oasis to my soul’s reality.

her promise has fed me, no matter if I fulfill, for the wind has always pushed me where I need to be…

Grown

this poem jumps around a lot and is rather incoherent, I realized. but that in itself reflects my current state of mind

we played football in muddy fields at dusk

like kings of Suburban wilderness

and dinner plates.

under cement tunnels through urban rivers,

we ran in moonlight

and drank cartons of milk

on warm neighborhood nights,

living immortally.

now we pretend to still be that age,

talking trash in diners, staying up late

all night they still play video games,

walking to the movies at 1 a.m.

and finding plastic roses in the street.

We stood outside of his parents’ house

all our hearts grew a bit older

when he told us he’ll be married

and a father by June;

we won’t be running around

on open fields anymore.

and all my other friends have gone,

no more Denny’s 2 a.m.

or living with our mothers,

we now shed the light of dawn

and live in bright high noon,

fate’s rays beating down on our skin.

The people of our pasts

and the music never lasts,

we float in and out of reality.

some paths change in an instant,

some girls change you for forever,

some people end up in your arms

and some move on like distant stars…

Alone with the Town

my last friend left to Reno

drove through wildfires with his girl

and I’m alone in town

once I told him to get out

now I’m the only one who still comes round.

nowhere to cruise

in this country night of blue

Wal-mart and traffic lights glow

warm bodies stay inside

and watch the television glow

eating jello

heating water for tea in their midnight micro-

waves, oh

hell, I’m alone

again

on tile cold.

maybe I’ll shoot the bull

with the absent-minded, directionless voices in my head,

or blow my nose,

get the smoke out of my soul.

or play reggae guitar to the light of the moon

on my bed for two

missing you…

Yearning for Big Sur and salt and even Venice Beach,

when I’m really nostalgic,

tacos and lime

even Hawaii

your tongue and lips and throat

pronouncing my name

kissing my breath

on city wind night morning light sky roof

desolation,

that we were,

shouts and ATMs and sleepless Christmas

you were drunk and passionate

I was jaded-

I remember too often,

since life is small here–

but grand and golden in my heart:

its warm nights and my father’s eyes and mother’s arms

hometown heart beating the drum of my soul tune

and I want to cut through every town

and walk on dirty cement

trip on cobblestone

sit on crumbling curb

I love to dig the city, her footprints

her red, yellow, green stars

gas station moons

and diner suns

empty cinemas 1 a.m. drinking coca cola icees

by the light of the marquee

and her violet hair

my velvet and moonshine friends,

all silent now,

in far-off places

leaving me, for a short time,

alone in Desert town,

washed-up

past high school days

lingering

in longing…

Sol del Barrio / Barrio Sun

I did this assignment before but now I feel like delving deeper…

Toes over cobblestone,

tumbleweed, cracks in pavement

train station

blues.

echoes of a suitcase

rolling down a quiet road

one girl

miles away from home.

restless wind

stirs in the corners

of the barrio

as faces watch

from porches of cumbia

and sweat.

soccer and dust

creaking railway

dusk and waiting

for a bus full of silent lips.

fear sits like food

in every stomach

filling us up to the brim

with love for the seconds

we spend breathing quietly

in summer tranquility

near and far from where we’ve come,

chokingly saying nothing

and softly knowing everything

under Buenos Aires sun…

Deeper into the night

Home—an oasis

Unsure whether it’s where I started

or where I’m meant to end up;

if it’s warm during the winter,

or if it’s in my mother’s arms.

I am in the middle–

of the start and end,

my dreams and past,

his promises and her tears,

my two homes,

my doubts of each.

Soon I will be heading out,

for now I stay around this town

and hope and save and cry,

around the corner, the ride of my life.

as night grows deeper 

I begin to cry,

the sky darkens and I am more alone,

with the hum of the refridgerator

and nothing more.

Expectations

I live for the moments i can say ‘this didn’t turn out like i thought’ because that is the essence, tragedy, thrill, and beauty of life…

Even midst tears like mountains of melting snow like my heart dissolving into nothingness soon becoming my reflection in a clear pool of emptiness evaporating into dust like God’s secret in the sky, penetrating my skin, saying he loves me, never expected to meet him, not here, not on my first night in a crazy town that is and was and will be home, and also will always be dark and unknown like magic at night, I didn’t think I would love him, I thought I would forget him after we sweat and yelled from the top of Buenos Aires on the angriest Christmas I’ve spent, sleepless and drunk on lostness and dirty like all my nights there, I never thought I’d be flying back for good, to get myself stuck in wild locura whirlwind life on foreign roads, 

and I hope a few moments come, which I didn’t expect, which turn out more beautiful and dulce than I imagined…

 

Hollywood

we spin through the nights and streets

after hours Venice Beach. 

sabe que no podemos seguir asi,

fuera de control.

he has strong arms 

like my father, 

so I hold him close and ask him

to walk with me through the rogue 

beach night, 

drive me home beyond the

summer bar fights.

we live in a jungle

of dim red lights and

whisky on the job.

we sell our smiles to get tips,

a Hollywood family;

shining with gold and tears.

he’s handing me a stack of bills

because he can, he calls himself

God and El Rey of Venice Beach.

he’s fire now;

one day he’ll be ashes.

their eyes are red but 

I’m the one crying

and I know I am far away from home

as wordless tangos deafen

my doubts and the screams of my soul.

Los Angeles cries and her eyes shine

like skyscrapers and starlit dreams.

snow from far away falls upon her empty Hills, 

but we stay warm and dry, and

at daybreak we’re left with dust

and masks to wear til sunset.

Soy la princesa, 

alone in the bar,  

maybe I’m rich now because I live off nothing–

and kisses and loopholes and vino rojo,

but I’ll be leaving soon.

maybe I’m drunk because I have nothing,

and now I’m full of everything.