to focus
on the waves,
crashing in hard stone;
on the wind,
rushing through the tall grass;
on the silence,
cursing these euphoric nights.
Ver
writings at "Diary"
~
i feel you beside me
a vision through the mirror
reflecting of past and
made up futures.
i refuse to gasp
but your lips still touched my neck
and your beard still tickled
my sensitive skin
rough to your sensitive skin.
and in the universe of what never happened
i see a dead world before us
and a dying you to the coming years
fiction, when we’d be far from arms
still reciting your every scar
and kissing our charming scent.
The world is so big and I am so small;
Nature is so complex, yet I, so simple;
Time is so slow, but I will die in a minute.
And, so many times, throughout the years I spend years wondering what it’ll be like in five. What have I done? What have I said? What have I seen?
And, always, who will be in my bed? Always the expecting not to be alone, throughout the years spending years not ever being by myself, at least in my mind.
And always doing some things while doing nothing,
Always saying some words while not talking,
Always seeing the world while not looking.
All to, then, realize: ”Five years ago wasn’t true,
Just as minute as me and as drifty as the Blue.
I was stuck but I was moving, I was shut but I was shouting.
I am where I was, but I am who I wasn’t.”
And, like that, I grow. Tall. Fat. Bald.
Until one day, when five years is just as minute as me.
Ver
stranger who i haven’t met,
dearest who i haven’t felt,
shadow of the twilight
and mist of the dawn
who i haven’t kissed,
my lips seem to be growing affection
to the incredibly poisonous wine
of wandering through you with no direction
and in the eternity of your eyes die
you’re a knife that stabs my heart
if ever i wake up alone
you’re a fire that burns my heart
if ever my sleep is gone
stranger who i haven’t met,
dearest who i haven’t felt,
river of the valley
and trees of the forest
who i haven’t lived,
die in me the ashes of the time
through the years we’ve been burning
until our branches intertwine
and days will pass very slowly
we’re the dust that blinds the vision
of those who only dance alone
and this is a mere story of fiction
for those whose lives are gone
Ver
Dear stranger,
Of all that future holds,
Of all the tear shed rivers flowing,
Of all the tree branches to the wind dancing,
Of all the harmony of birds singing,
Of all the sky-scraping buildings far above,
Of all the heads locked in the flying white dove,
Of all the trains I’ll be coming out of,
Of all the heart-stabbing horrifying crime,
Of all the skies where stars don’t align
And the never ending bottles pouring wine,
What I see and what I hear,
What I desire and what I fear
Is mostly you, stranger dear.
Ver
Been having trouble sleeping without your breath
Warm, down my neck.
Without your slower heartbeat
When, finally, I could let you rest.
I go completely insane
Have you kiss my skin
Oh, to simply have you touch my skin
And tear sweat like pouring rain.
But, my silk haired dear darling
I miss raving to your raving
When you lost yourself inside of me
Unveiled so many hypotheses
To what the world could be.
Then, I was Rodrigo and I was Ver.
“hmmmmmmmmm…
The sun… the light…”
he thought as I dropped
parts of mine through sweat
and heavy bones dragging
through the like desert streets
but, always that
“hmmmmmmmmmm…
the summer… the pleasure…
the restful nothing all day long”
and always me feeling down
and useless.
summer things grow too quickly
and die too soon
summer things live so freely
and erase meaning from the blue
yet again that
“hmmmmmmmmmm…
the summer.”
as I try to enjoy everything off it
that doesn’t go its lazy ways.
Ver
I have always loved the big things. I have always admired the strong spirits.
I cannot remember a day before being amazed, as I looked up to the infinite skies. I cannot recall one conversation before promising that one day I would travel everywhere there is to visit.
I have always loved the incredible mathematical stand-up comedy. I have always admired the complexity of my own hand and how it meant nothing, compared to my father’s (and how his meant nothing, compared to the glittering stars in the sparkling night — I have always dreamed only of glittery horizons and infinite roads).
Oh, I have always gotten hurtful cramps from laughing at the cold ocean bathing me, under the hellish sun. I could only rest under the cozy blankets and warm socks of the frozen Christmas white lights — which have been the same every year.
But, oh, always the years. Always the years.
Always the same joy and the same wonder.
Always wondering if there will ever be other reality to wonder about.
Always wondering if there will ever be other roads to wander through.
Oh, always the years, undressing myself in front of a mirror and never looking different, yet never being the same. Always, wanting more to wonder more.
— Virgin eyes! — I shouted. “Virgin eyes!” I shout.
Only closing my eyes
And seeing every detail
Of a world under disguise.
Only losing myself in the rain
And hearing the white noise
Of every sky crossing plane.
Nothing but to lose myself
In the touch of skin built upon
Ages of lived through star stuff.
Never thinking too much
About what it all means,
Every time I look far above.
Ver
If things ever don’t go as planned;
If stars ever don’t align;
If roads ever drift away;
If horizons ever fade off the line,
Know that you’re not perfect
And, so, your life cannot be perfect either.
And if ever you must lose;
If ever you must fall;
If ever tears are shed;
If only pain is left,
Understand that being alive is a feeling
And, so, these feelings mean you’re living.
(Get up. Your life is a poetry book
And today is only one verse.
Write your next verse…
What will your verse be?)
Ver
Smoothly stroking rough paper,
Running in a thick line across
The eternally wide canvas.
Oh, crying hand, crying man!
Oh, of all the things you
And nobody can understand;
Of all the fields of truth
And oceans of tearful lies;
Of all the memories of sorrow
And the paid losing dice —
May your pain be the gone dust,
The glittery stars above us chanting
Songs to follow your singing brush,
Presenting you as your painting.
Almost slipped, the pavement was so wet.
My shoes don’t have the kind of rubber
Necessary to stick to the ground, my feet
Can barely set foot still on the land,
When they fall from high… Kind of like
When I have a little too much to drink:
I can’t walk these broken streets straight.
And not always even - the ground is scarred
From all the shakes of the earth below
The slippery rock. And these holes don’t help
Forget the battles lost before, they ironically
Fill up with the tears shed from above…
Overflow their sadness into my shoe
(The only dark spot in the glittery floor).
Ver
In this moment I only look forward to hold you
In my arms resting through the restful night.
Could give up much of what I thought
I needed to get to then, but you took that away.
It isn’t a bad thing, It isn’t a damn
It is rather the flame
That drives
Honey, the very core of my whole being
Today.
All that time
I swear
I really tried
To give you all of myself
So you would see
The world through my eyes
So you would understand
The world with my logic
I tried truly
To heal your wounds
But your wounds didn’t seem
To ever stop bleeding
Still I tried
I did. I do.
Because I love you
And because we both
Know the same crisis
I am stubborn
And I would never accept the fate we know
But you
You accepted your defeat.
Why do you accept defeat?
I need you to win
I need you to glorify
My dedication to you
Selfishly, because I am stubborn
And I would never accept
The fate we’re doomed to.
How are you?
We were so young
And although we still are
Our souls have touched ground
Many more times
And our souls have touched skies
Few times more together.
We crossed wide rivers
We sailed through seas
And rode on huge waves.
That summer, you burned a field
And I burned the very root of love.
Those times you cried
I screamed for you,
And all the times that you died
I silently buried you
And even though I never believed in God
I prayed for your essence to never leave mine.
We were so young.
We met only reciting childish
Cheap improvised verses
To each other. And we fell
We fell in love that exact day.
And the deep well became
Our pot. We rose
Towards the sun.
We are still so young
And we are better than anyone.
We are better than every one couple,
Because our lips are closed eyes,
Our love is a poem
And our broken hearts are lost minds,
Forever roaming through the ocean.
Don’t feel sad,
We’re both mad
Just the same way.
We are dreamers of worlds
Which don’t exist,
And we cry the war
For a land in the mythical mist.
We will survive because
The world is rightfully ours.
Besides,
Of all my friends, you have
The best taste in music.
And I love you like crazy,
Because you’re the only one
Who can appreciate how
Completely insane I am.
Life is sweet like pancakes, yes:
It is the orgasm in your mouth
Through every bite, a bursting
Pleasure that sometimes gives you
Aching cavities (which you don’t
Regret at all), only for the sake
Of savoring such magnificent dirt.
(Dance, dance, dance!
Let’s dance together.
We’re idiotic fools and
That couldn’t get any better.)
You’re fun!
I hope we see each other again,
Rodrigo.
