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…
I am off the grid as always
taking time, wandering,
exploring and simply breathing
sometimes crumbling..
under volcanoes and baking chicken,
cold summer kitchen nights,
shoes beer park lights, cement like we’re young,
free world and alone souls in the Santiago dark,
rain lightly falling over the city, foglights green through mist
and we are leaking boats, holding each other
to stay afloat.
i will keep you warm when cold waters flood the present with the past
I won’t let you freeze from the glaciers of pain I used to cause
but you’ll have to feel for me with all the empathy you can find
abandoned homes under the sea where tsunamis used to strike
don’t let your heart remember, you’re above water now
I didn’t know you, I didn’t mean to sink your trust again
I didn’t know myself, I didn’t mean to sink so low
there’s no oasis in the middle of the sea
no way to make it up to you but spend every day
steering us to shore.
I waited at the water’s edge, dried by the sun
seeing your shape on the horizon I began to focus
my vision and now my eyes only swim with memories
of the future.
Today I wish to be silent,
and hear only wind rustle over my ears.
My blood cannot handle voices
or it will boil through my skin
which trembles from the vastness
of the Void
which my dreams have become,
stained by reality’s harsh sunlight,
nothing like soft summer,
only jaded delights
and comfortable sadness.
I repose in this silent day,
bathe in the distance and melancholy
I’ve created.
Mountain breeze and car alarms
replace my hometown melodies,
my childhood dream security
becomes anxious tranquility.
I wish to exist outside of my heart,
which owns the broken nostalgia
of my soul
like waterfalls of sun
pouring through windowpanes
that I can never move beyond
or my spirit will burn to ash.
Say you understand me,
and lock me in your arms,
don’t let me go so easily
or I’ll believe you’ve barely wanted me.
I step on white hot pavement,
the road to Central Station,
paths in all directions,
I want to float into the sky.
you don’t know how to handle me,
or how to contain love,
the shortage deep inside of you
disintegrates my empathy.
I sense you walking far from me,
the Void between us widening,
tracing back our steps in time,
back to the lonely beginning.
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…
Today we went to la feria, rows of corncobs, fresh pescado (fish off the coast of Chile, todo fresco), peaches, tomatoes 200 pesos/kilo, crates of soily potatoes and peapods, even yellow-red mangos, shampoo, cheetah-print underwear, the crisp Andes in our hair, the clear air swirling around I feel so far south, I mean I can sense the equator above my head when I lay, toes pointed towards the icy sur…
North could be East; South–West.
every atom under the sun, its own nucleus.
We fried three fish in oil, eaten on some abandoned beach whose shore had been pushed between two cliffs to create a sandy half-moon, a perfect tongue of blue lolling ever farther once the sun hit noon. beer and salted, lemoned salad, todo rico.
I rest silent, earth under my palms. oh, and how I love. how deep it runs.
a radiant sapphire sky emphasizes los diamantes that hang stagnant but buzzing,
suspended over our heads like streetlamps in the pinched fingers of God.
in this land time drips away.
the most amount of stars–alas, the ocean and I are drunk on them.
standing here staggering, kicking up cool sand, the moon shaking to reach my feet.
I remember when we measured in hours of the day, chocolate cake on porcelain and swirled coffee, sun dusting windowpanes, shower steam, all the sweet patterns that held me together.
But Chile, in her longitude and vastness, her weeping beauty and Santiago barrios, where mountains are hands, cupping and releasing our unquiet minds onto stretches of sand and houses, onto open roads through a city that fiercely loves, we drive all the way Up South, and up, and up.
poetry is all;
all my soul and melancholy
seduced by sweet nostalgia and lullaby memory of fuzzy golden home like dream with soft blinking stars like miniature suns filling my summer skin with night warmth, oh
all I desire
is to write.
walk, and inhale, hope for lust and angels, seek countless words,
find myself back in the same corners of world,
always dusty with recollection the way antique wood penetrates senses like past life or milonga,
the deep rust of remembrance eternally kindling my soul’s song,
no–I have no other plan
but to write.
-will never change-
is all I know of existence;
the words which procede witness
and emerge in the depths of our ribs.
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…
Vivo como una sombra.
no verás mis ojos
no me sentirás
soy liquido como un color
sin palabras como la respiración
sólo ves una silueta
bajo luz como si fuéramos
ángeles lejanos
lejos de nuestras viejas ciudades,
usadas para absorber
nuestras lagrimas
que no encuentran donde caer
que desean el caos
de la cambia constante
que es la vida de una fantasma.
Me verás como silueta lamentable:
callada como la briza
que te toca como terciopelo azul
pero nunca te dice
una palabra que entiendes.
Esperarás que comparta contigo
un pedazo de mi alma
una sola palabra
del centro de mi ser
pero lamento que no puedo.
Mi piel es de piedra.
bajo el superficie de risa elegante
voz baja y manos inmóviles,
mi alma ardiente te desea
y cree que me dejarás
al final,
porque yo te quiero
demasiado.
I am a queen of nostalgia, dark like cold nights, awake and asleep, all at the same time, like memories you can taste again and again, life begins to live, moments begin to happen, my eyes open like wind on adobe building desert midnight, stay with me, in my blood, protecting by the membrane of my veins and my esperanza, holding you forever and ever, on our new soft terrain, I was accustomed to a usual dissatisfaction so it’s difficult to know how to handle you, your teeth glistening like snow under streetlamp night, New York but latin, cobblestone dust washed into relentless tango rain, streaming at the curbs like garbage rivers racing to escape but drying before reaching the city’s edge, whirlwind life, remembered in fragments of his coffee eyes, dorado ears, corner of devilish smile, arch of stretched back, existence now tasted in snapshots of flavor like memory dejavu reenacted in my present bones,
love, love, pushing me over the city’s shore like toes on balcony tile cold as cement at daybreak heartless as selfish desire and foolish impulsion my soul eternally filled to the brim with carelessness because nothing matters to me but love, and sadness has filled most of my days like darkness fills shadows, which wait to be painted black, as that is their purpose,
I was created melancholy and wistful like willow tree, solitary and yearning
but roots are city glass and stone mud streets and cumbia windows, plátano crates, long strides into freezing bridge night;
don’t let me go, gray sweater and flourescent bus dream, love known in flashes like polaroid unregrettable futureless time–
Through the Rye 