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…

Illusions

dissatisfaction rooted in my gut like rotten tree; though immense love for my new city finally wins, I do not know peace, every bone of destiny restless, again rocking my skin to a sense of invisibility like rootlessness like vagabond listlessness sad swaying in wind whole life unknown always shaped by fate’s new game which warps the heart and poisons lungs with esperanza and in finale, you don’t want to live anywhere, nothing will do, nothing works, the world is too small, too grand, too many voices to catch up to, too many desires to fulfill, dissappointment that comes from natural changing waves that confuse minds only desiring stillness, don’t understand my intense incapability to be still, I live by breathing and not by planning, unintelligent, poorly shaped mind, my body remaining in the end standing like a sun dial in a bath of murderous heat–

sun soul jaded under humid sweltering unforgiving streets stone dry like an absense of hope like windowless survival running from metal fence to oasis tile steel fan noisy cramped dark cave store with toothpaste and shortbread and condoms, on the corner of Misery and Paradise once again in different form, all the way South, always finding me, between bliss and craze, the indecision to be happy or to continue on seeking,

well, Happiness is not a choice–it is an illusion,

mood is elusive,

all there is be breath, consumption, lips moving, souls stirring, vaguely wanting, reaching blindly,

for joy is never pure; fear of its pending loss dissolves its magnetic power, crumbling into safe weariness once again.

organized chaos around our ankles like eternity…

In Times of Cholera (English Version)

Originally written by me in Spanish. Read the Spanish version here.

In times of absence

what does the heart do?

She sleeps,

she lets the eyes divert their course.

She dreams of nostalgic times.

Sentiment is half of love,

conviction is the other.

You have my heart;

make yourself responsible:

He who loves

has the responsibility

to care.

and she who needs

has the responsibility

to wait.

In times of aging,

one must not abandon

conviction.

Love in times of cholera;

through the hours that we forget each other,

between the seconds when you seem absent,

love is the internal promise

to continue on.

Envolverte

you are the sunshadow of my nostalgic past,

the star-ray of my blue night sky present,

the fire glimmer of my endless summer future,

I can’t believe I ever hurt you,

turned you away on Christmas

when even in anger you followed me

and walked across town with me–

I was a different person then.

Buenos Aires saw it all-

and She brings us together again,

in an ocean of fate She is our wave.

Let me envelope you–

never to drown you again

only take you in my arms

in the middle of our city,

though she breathes turmoil

and exhales restless afternoons,

I am calm in your lips,

on our porch with tea and sun.

 

Dejáme envolverte,

no quemarte,

ni secarte,

sino amarte.

Vos sos destino

carne y madera,

juntáte a las muralles conmigo,

vivimos camuflados 

y libres.