Fragments of me
they scatter on the way
leaves let go
from their stem
imbued with joy and pain
full of thoughts
short paragraphs
of a long history
called life.
Like quick flashbacks
fragments of the desired existence,
flashes of the soul
tear the gray veil
of our daily life,
to paint a dream
that shines wonderful
and still unites us.
They exude hope
the walls of this room,
white shines
to make the heart
less grim,
candida shines
like the soul that does not lie,
it feels like heaven
but it is only a reflection
of your smile.
Deep down I look at you
and so I find you again,
sweet as ever
with the beating heart
exploding with passion
to overcome the dark
and every obstacle
that stands in the way
to our love.
Infinite spaces await us
to free our imagination
and fly again
beyond all limits
to try again
the thrill of living
in the rumble of the heart.
Silence like music
fills the atmosphere,
in gazing
a rising sun
in the breath of nature,
sweet melody
made of thoughts
that like sweet notes
caress hearts.
I've been through storms
that shook the soul,
I have endured the pain of my demons
uncomfortable traveling companions,
overcoming all fear
to find myself again
and understand the value
of my life.
Last remnants of summer
the sea seems to calm down
the air freshen up,
almost an unexpected stasis
moments of tranquility
thoughts go up
on the mountain of duty
the heart remains in the arms
of pleasure.
And then for some reason
you find yourself once again embraced
realizing that you wanted just that
feel her skin on yours
get intoxicated by its perfume
as you open your eyes
to start a new adventure.
In the shadow of the clouds
of distant memories
new ones are born
sprouts of emotion
that someone calls
love flowers
in their perfume
life still blossoms.
Nothing can make me forget
I will carry every moment with me
I will live the time
as if there was no tomorrow
to stop him in that fatal moment
of the melody of your heartbeat.
Purity of sound. Liquid consciousness. Keep yourself on the edge of heaven. A dragonfly opened the door, he let the remaining dead out on the stomach. Create indigestible memories like spaghetti and whiskey. Certain moments to forget like dinners without a television. Everything that is silver is gray. But gold is very black. Each word was one thing. All things escape. In an instant, all meanings lose their meaning. A lantern that pulls midges. A poet who attracts readers. But the butterfly burns and dies. The light brought love. But the butterfly is dead. In a different space, the butterfly stretches its wings and becomes a dragonfly. A space where the ant becomes Leo. Here we go. Let’s go. The chrysalis is ready and we are in the cocoon. We become lantern flames. We become Becoming.
If what you call a spiritual path becomes just the umpteenth race (with yourself or with others) to try to be the best, the most evolved, the most perceptive, the most sensitive. charitable and moral then you are just replicating the dynamics of your ego-personality world that you have to strive for to be available for and loved oneself (by yourself or loved by others).
If what you call the spiritual path is for you just the attempt to contact your true Self and your true Essence beyond the wounds, the imposed patterns and prejudices and the false boundaries that you have, then this is just a psychological investigation of your life and yours. reactions to it in this and other existences.
I chased my shadow down along the illuminated avenues among faceless men and trees now condemned. I ran after her out of breath with only the sound of my footsteps to guide me on this degenerate journey towards the unexplored abyss In the middle of the day on the broken stage of an old theater turned to the abandoned audience she waited for me wearing a golden mask I gave my shadow a face She didn’t forgive meIn gold I dipped your hair and your dreams. I was good at making you forget the sun. Dawn was ahead of us and you stared at me like the only bright star. You will have kisses and sweets from the blue horizon. Kisses and sweets from my blue lips. We are drunk with eyes and with those who look at us. But we will go elsewhere while the world awaits the golden end.You dripped your sadness into my golden lake but you didn’t make me sad. I listened to your favorite cruelties but I didn’t get involved in them. You have played with all the dice and numbers to be able to calculate our future but I am a more infinite puzzle than an equation. The last blue night rises and stays inside green bottles. Sleep arises and you sleep while I look at your dreams and make them come true. I’m your lucky charm.
THE PRODIGY OF IDEAS 