Height

Height is the distance between the bottom 

And top, between greatness and madness. 

Height is a jump, is a step, 

And is also a fall.

Few find it intimidating, being at the top, 

Or even at the bottom of any height.

This fear rises from the sensation 

Of an unexpected result.

It is not knowing whether pain

Will be greater at the high of heights,

Or the lowest of height. 

Height can be a challenge, a dream,

Or a person. 

And to me, height is you.

I have always aimed for gentle, loving,

Matured, focused, spiritual,

And darling, you 

Are all of the above. 

You have lay down 

A fine thread for me to cross,

I have you so close, 

Almost a hand away from falling,

And that is where my fear begins. 

I fear you,

I fear having you 

one step closer,

I crash to your being 

In my thoughts.

In every chance I get,

I feed myself a little of

The great man that you are,

And slowly,

All my wounds cease to ache. 

There is fire in the waters below,

I see it from this height but,

I focus on your light,

Trying to make sense of my feelings,

And at the same time 

Channeling some sense into my blood. 

It all makes sense, 

It is clear you will let me slip,

So I let the fool in me take over,

And enjoy the light.

Feed myself a little more, 

Gaze at your eyes long enough,

So that I have something to reminisce 

During my free fall.  

Ultimately that is all I will have,

the memory of a gaze, 

A thought of what never was.

An unreachable height. 

And I will drown once again 

In the waters of fire, 

After a long fall in the madness.

Until the next poem rises from my insides 

Claiming a story that never existed.  

I fear you height.

Vidas Extraviadas

Tu que sonríes en cada fotografía con ella,
Tu que en tus pensamientos te lastimas a latigazos por aquel abandono,
Tu que de momentos me amas, pero que en otros momentos me odias,
Tu que sonríes en cada fotografía con ella.

Te preguntas si talvez el destino nos pondrá de frente una vez mas,
y porque te mientes? si sabes bien que el encontrarnos no fue solo un hechizo, o un capricho del destino, mas bien un desnudo completo a nuestras almas vulnerables. Un espejo donde solo se reflejaban figuras de apariencia peculiar pero muy similar desde los mas simple detalles, hasta los mas oscuro secretos.


Porque te mientes? de verdad piensas que otro encuentro no causaría el mismo efecto o uno peor? Esto es como iniciar un volcán si esperar erupción.

Tu que de dia vives feliz, pero al atardecer te inundes en los mas temibles abismos, en mis mas terribles pesadillas. En mi mar de poemas, en las sinfonías que le cantas a través de tus pensamientos, a aquel pequeño musculo que marcaste tuyo hace años. Deja de esconderte que dos almas tan semejantes, en diferentes extremos no son peligrosas solo amigosas. 

Talvez te espante con mis preguntas, con mis dudas, con mis cicatrices profundas pero no lo olvides, solo hay un Rey en este pedazo de musculo que cargo en el pecho.

Y aun no se si sera este tu deseable trofeo, tu peor pesadilla o tu mayor triunfo, pero....

El volcán, en nuestra próxima vía lo determinaran.

Silence

Silence, 

an arm so powerful and quite disturbing at last,

which thinks of lull times yet to come and elaborates images of what is no there. The difference lays in the past and the present, "the black and white" as I call it. 

For there has always been a past in which silence has opened the door to lustful lips and passionate touches or dropped tears that recall lost souls, 

painful goodbyes or vanished material love.

Silence,

don't we fear thee, whether it brings good or bad news, whether you perdure in the present or rejoice in the past. The truth and lies you hide and put to light, always change or reaffirm a suffering or a greatness damned to whom aught to listen, see or feel.

Silence,

in the need to find the unknown you awake the excitement of a life but not dare to lie because the present will always uncover your past, without shame. Notwithstanding knowing this truth will drag thou destiny to hell, your destiny to an end because your beginnings are powerful but not limitless.

Neither nine years nor 11 years will be enough to forget about Nine-Eleven

Nine years ago an exigency occurred.

Thousands of lives were lost in a tragedy of
great aspersion. Maybe it was our default,
since Protection is what we are known for,
but all this rebuke caused has left us with
stymied memories.

Is so hard to believe the brevity
in which World Trace Center was
destroyed: 15 seconds as I remembered
and 2,752 lost souls, that's including those
who died after words due to the
exposure of excesive dust but excluding
those 183 who died in The Pentagon &
44 who died in Flight 93.

Nine eleven since then, has turned
into an onerous moment of which
for some of us; It's a moment that
constantly rewinds in our memories.
Lost families, friends, people that
we will never get to meet and those
three question that will forever stay
still.

Why kill?
Who could?
How is it possible?

In these questions we expect
to find peace for our loss,
but would this really bring us back
our loved ones?
The tenet of Love is to honor those
who have died unfairly. So let us proudly
keep their memories extant. Stand up for
Love. Shout from here to the sky that they
shall now rest in peace knowing that they will
For Ever Be Alive.