tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-62885186234560955752024-03-05T16:37:13.254-08:00NáuseAJuanfhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/08494146007849330742noreply@blogger.comBlogger132125tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-6288518623456095575.post-83960377382309141952022-10-13T10:16:00.001-07:002022-10-13T10:16:30.700-07:00you are taking my lungsEvery time I sleep,<div>On the day, I inhale</div><div>Smokescreen to darken</div><div>The images I see</div><div>Reflections on my </div><div>Rem sleep.</div><div><br></div><div>Would you leave me alone?</div><div>You, false images</div><div>Of what I think I need</div><div>Of what I miss.</div><div><br></div><div>Again, I went to sleep</div><div>And you were there.</div><div><br></div><div>"leave please!"</div><div><br></div><div>On every breath I take</div><div>My dark lungs scream,</div><div>And darken again.</div><div><br></div><div>I don't want to sleep, no...</div><div>And I need to take a break.</div><div><br></div>Juanfhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/08494146007849330742noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-6288518623456095575.post-53265731287251579252022-10-13T10:12:00.001-07:002022-10-13T10:12:17.859-07:00Lo creo.<div>No concibo matorrales,</div><div>No arbustos, no flores.</div><div><br></div><div>Tallos, y hojas,</div><div>Simples, funcionales, toscos.</div><div><br></div><div>Sobreviven, intestinales.</div><div><br></div><div>Gulturales, se arrojan.</div><div><br></div><div>Sin licencia</div><div>Cual planta entre baldosas,</div><div>Imprevisible, </div><div>Pero natural,</div><div>Sobreviviente.</div><div><br></div><div>Irrefrenable, </div><div>Irreverente.</div><div><br></div><div>No son árboles, no crecen altos,</div><div>No son bellos cual flores,</div><div>Son algo natural,</div><div>Son mi torpe expresar.</div>Juanfhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/08494146007849330742noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-6288518623456095575.post-68143457189483791652022-09-20T20:41:00.003-07:002022-09-20T20:41:42.277-07:00Mirror<p> I saw a man</p><p>He was dying</p><p>Dying to live</p><p>Constantly</p><p><br /></p><p>I hope I never been around</p><p>But he was living so high</p><p>Since there was no one around</p><p>And he was avoiding everyone</p><p>In his crawling death</p><p><br /></p><p><br /></p><p>He just wanted to be heard</p><p>In his last breath</p><p><br /></p><p>He's so dead</p>Juanfhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/08494146007849330742noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-6288518623456095575.post-86141887123943146282022-09-20T20:40:00.003-07:002022-09-20T20:40:32.140-07:00Red royal flush<p> Hey could you give a bit of your time</p><p>My thoughts have been only about you</p><p><br /></p><p>Hey you are such a strong hand</p><p>i haven't Been able to hold on</p><p><br /></p><p>Don't put such a straight face</p><p>I'm no playing poker nor playing you</p><p><br /></p><p>Just give me a bit of time</p><p>With you</p><p><br /></p><p>You know I don't know how to play cards</p><p>Since the beginning i've been quite through</p><p><br /></p><p>Straight hearts letters, no numbers,</p><p>How should I play this game?</p><p><br /></p><p><br /></p><p>You are so silent, could you remind me?</p><p>I'll play better, please explain</p><p><br /></p><p>How I can be straight with you?</p><p>How Could you?</p><p><br /></p><p><br /></p>Juanfhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/08494146007849330742noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-6288518623456095575.post-90346895905761846262022-09-20T20:39:00.003-07:002022-09-20T20:39:48.135-07:00Ruminate<p> Keep grinding my teeth</p><p>As you left me</p><p>Somehow gotta sleep</p><p>Is the sugar I ate?</p><p><br /></p><p>I'm left with this</p><p>I keep biting it,</p><p>But I can't swallow</p><p>I'm still chewing</p><p><br /></p><p>Is a never ending bone</p><p>And even if I'm able to end it</p><p>There is a lot as if I'm eating a human foot.</p><p><br /></p><p>I'm not saying you shouldn't left me alone</p><p>I gotta keep chewing and eating</p><p>I gotta eat</p><p>Myself.</p>Juanfhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/08494146007849330742noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-6288518623456095575.post-48888333632798668232022-09-08T09:21:00.000-07:002022-09-08T09:21:06.091-07:00Realization<p> <span style="font-family: Arial; font-size: 11pt; white-space: pre-wrap;">The date was around 20 of february… maybe a month later… maybe a quarter less than the previous time.</span></p><span id="docs-internal-guid-b3200388-7fff-ffcc-60df-f9541213d00b"><br /><p dir="ltr" style="line-height: 1.38; margin-bottom: 0pt; margin-top: 0pt;"><span style="font-family: Arial; font-size: 11pt; font-variant-east-asian: normal; font-variant-numeric: normal; vertical-align: baseline; white-space: pre-wrap;">I found it, once I arrived, it was calling me, resonating, ideas, thoughts, freedom, ideals, all made one, there have been a few times I’ve felt it.</span></p><br /><p dir="ltr" style="line-height: 1.38; margin-bottom: 0pt; margin-top: 0pt;"><span style="font-family: Arial; font-size: 11pt; font-variant-east-asian: normal; font-variant-numeric: normal; vertical-align: baseline; white-space: pre-wrap;">I felt it when I knew that I had no talent on wind instruments, the same time I knew that football was not cut for me. Or being honest, my legs, no dexterity, my foots and body was not cut for sports.</span></p><br /><p dir="ltr" style="line-height: 1.38; margin-bottom: 0pt; margin-top: 0pt;"><span style="font-family: Arial; font-size: 11pt; font-variant-east-asian: normal; font-variant-numeric: normal; vertical-align: baseline; white-space: pre-wrap;">The same time I noticed I was not able to let something take me somewhere in a different pace than the rhythm I walk when I set foot in a skateboard.</span></p><br /><p dir="ltr" style="line-height: 1.38; margin-bottom: 0pt; margin-top: 0pt;"><span style="font-family: Arial; font-size: 11pt; font-variant-east-asian: normal; font-variant-numeric: normal; vertical-align: baseline; white-space: pre-wrap;">When I got excited with the first book and my hands started to hurt like roots starting to rapidly growth on two different sides of my body with romantic ideals.</span></p><br /><p dir="ltr" style="line-height: 1.38; margin-bottom: 0pt; margin-top: 0pt;"><span style="font-family: Arial; font-size: 11pt; font-variant-east-asian: normal; font-variant-numeric: normal; vertical-align: baseline; white-space: pre-wrap;">That was it.</span></p><br /><p dir="ltr" style="line-height: 1.38; margin-bottom: 0pt; margin-top: 0pt;"><span style="font-family: Arial; font-size: 11pt; font-variant-east-asian: normal; font-variant-numeric: normal; vertical-align: baseline; white-space: pre-wrap;">The things that make you believe that was set to be put on your life.</span></p><br /><p dir="ltr" style="line-height: 1.38; margin-bottom: 0pt; margin-top: 0pt;"><span style="font-family: Arial; font-size: 11pt; font-variant-east-asian: normal; font-variant-numeric: normal; vertical-align: baseline; white-space: pre-wrap;">You came, resonated, and I thought I was able to adhere myself to the idea that you were meant to be part of it.</span></p><br /><p dir="ltr" style="line-height: 1.38; margin-bottom: 0pt; margin-top: 0pt;"><span style="font-family: Arial; font-size: 11pt; font-variant-east-asian: normal; font-variant-numeric: normal; vertical-align: baseline; white-space: pre-wrap;">The same day I saw the rain fall down, downpour, the reverberation from a thunder, everything was good.</span></p><br /><p dir="ltr" style="line-height: 1.38; margin-bottom: 0pt; margin-top: 0pt;"><span style="font-family: Arial; font-size: 11pt; font-variant-east-asian: normal; font-variant-numeric: normal; vertical-align: baseline; white-space: pre-wrap;">If I were a god, I would have said the same, “And it was good”.</span></p><br /><p dir="ltr" style="line-height: 1.38; margin-bottom: 0pt; margin-top: 0pt;"><span style="font-family: Arial; font-size: 11pt; font-variant-east-asian: normal; font-variant-numeric: normal; vertical-align: baseline; white-space: pre-wrap;">Maybe the start, a mistake, was to love it too much. To desire the feeling too much, the idea of having something I felt it was done for me. I had an obsession.</span></p><br /><p dir="ltr" style="line-height: 1.38; margin-bottom: 0pt; margin-top: 0pt;"><span style="font-family: Arial; font-size: 11pt; font-variant-east-asian: normal; font-variant-numeric: normal; vertical-align: baseline; white-space: pre-wrap;">I made the same mistake, putting too much strength to something I wanted to hold and I didn’t need to press on.</span></p><br /><p dir="ltr" style="line-height: 1.38; margin-bottom: 0pt; margin-top: 0pt;"><span style="font-family: Arial; font-size: 11pt; font-variant-east-asian: normal; font-variant-numeric: normal; vertical-align: baseline; white-space: pre-wrap;">Oh, but I would have hold it close many times… even if I had to only embrace it, it felt good, better, tha something I could strive to.</span></p><br /><p dir="ltr" style="line-height: 1.38; margin-bottom: 0pt; margin-top: 0pt;"><span style="font-family: Arial; font-size: 11pt; font-variant-east-asian: normal; font-variant-numeric: normal; vertical-align: baseline; white-space: pre-wrap;">But it ended, got the better of the worst of it, some sides I’ve never met of me.</span></p><br /><p dir="ltr" style="line-height: 1.38; margin-bottom: 0pt; margin-top: 0pt;"><span style="font-family: Arial; font-size: 11pt; font-variant-east-asian: normal; font-variant-numeric: normal; vertical-align: baseline; white-space: pre-wrap;">Still, I appreciate it, it made know me better, or at least aspects I did not know, and, that now I need to fix.</span></p></span>Juanfhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/08494146007849330742noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-6288518623456095575.post-36519461867404155492022-08-31T06:43:00.005-07:002022-09-14T18:42:41.840-07:00Sleepy head/sleep pills<p>She's there, she had the fire.</p><p>But when she's about to sleep</p><p>I'm not sure if she's there,</p><p>she turns so quiet.</p><p><br /></p><p>When you close those eyes,</p><p>I'm there?</p><p><br /></p><p>I'm holding fire, to find me,</p><p>but it melts down, consumed</p><p>take your time</p><p>But I can feel it, going down.</p><p><br /></p><p>If I go to sleep before,</p><p>Would you be scared of the same?</p><p>would you hold the fire too?</p><p><br /></p><p>Still,</p><p>Stay with me.</p><p>I don't want you to leave.</p>Juanfhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/08494146007849330742noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-6288518623456095575.post-54907883934800173352022-08-31T06:39:00.004-07:002022-08-31T06:39:42.550-07:00Away from you, still close.<p>Awaken, like fire,</p><p>Burns,</p><p>Crackles smiles,</p><p>Crackle the woods</p><p>That ates.</p><p><br /></p><p>At the ashes sleeping</p><p>In a slow slumber,</p><p>embers still,</p><p>Gentle heat bearer.</p><p><br /></p><p>In a slow awaken,</p><p>A swamp, slow, steady.</p><p><br /></p><p>Here at all times,</p><p>I wonder how you see me</p><p>I'm a tent, a camp?</p><p>I'm your home, I'm your lamp?</p>Juanfhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/08494146007849330742noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-6288518623456095575.post-80173266250798945532022-04-11T11:40:00.003-07:002022-04-11T11:40:49.105-07:00USK pt 5 Sabor a Cuba<p> Doors.</p><p>Door-like windows,</p><p>Most of them shut, closed,</p><p>Am I approachable, yes, I see them come?</p><p><br /></p><p>I have flowers as hair,</p><p>the grow everywhere,</p><p>They cut them pretty for me,</p><p>they pull them close to me.</p><p><br /></p><p>I' was colorless, then faded,</p><p>I'm blushing now,</p><p>golden shoes, golden crown.</p>Juanfhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/08494146007849330742noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-6288518623456095575.post-83837120173717250242022-04-11T11:37:00.006-07:002022-04-11T11:37:59.503-07:00USK pt 3. Parque del avión<p> I'm (not) a plane,</p><p>I entertain,</p><p>I don't fly,</p><p>children play.</p><p><br /></p><p>I wont go, I won't arrive,</p><p>so here, they find me all the time.</p><p><br /></p><p>I wonder if they imagine me in the sky,</p><p>or if they just play on the slide,</p><p>still, they can ride me any time... should I say fly?</p><p>In the day, at night.</p><p><br /></p><p>I'm a reminiscence of a plane</p><p>That gave this place its name.</p>Juanfhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/08494146007849330742noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-6288518623456095575.post-78539104741998244172022-04-11T11:35:00.004-07:002022-04-11T11:35:26.526-07:00USK PT. 2 Catedral y Estatua.<p> Me erigieron aquí, allá,</p><p>y veo a muchos, a pocos, y dejo de verlos.</p><p>Los veo con prisa, los veo andar lentos,</p><p>Veo ebrios, veo cuerpos, veo muertos.</p><p><br /></p><p>Veo felices, tristes, desterrados y arrastrados.</p><p><br /></p><p>A mi me ponen cuerdas, pañuelos, palabras,</p><p>escriben sus nombres, los borran.</p><p><br /></p><p>Me limpian, me pulen, me derrocan, me cambian,</p><p>me adoran, me maldicen.</p><p><br /></p><p>Soy imagen, historia, recordada y olvidada.</p><p><br /></p><p>Soy juzgado segun quien gane,</p><p>del lado de la historia.</p><p>Se burlan y se mofan,</p><p>me veneran y me respetan.</p><p><br /></p><p>Pero no soy nada, soy la idea, la imagen,</p><p>del imaginario, de la masa.</p><p><br /></p>Juanfhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/08494146007849330742noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-6288518623456095575.post-63723322289238354312022-02-07T12:37:00.006-08:002022-04-11T11:28:53.352-07:00Back Paper<p> Do we still hate each other after these days?</p><p><br /></p><p>I still wonder if you were high that day. Then I whispered to myself.</p><p><br /></p><p><span> - Why are we doing this?</span><br /></p><p><span><br /></span></p><p>Broken mugs,</p><p>broken glass,</p><p>broke your skin,</p><p>hurt mine.</p><p><br /></p><p>And you kept medicines,</p><p>you never took one,</p><p>I did take some,</p><p>you never noticed it.</p><p><br /></p><p>Some real scars,</p><p>that we left on us.</p><p><br /></p><p>Broken bottle,</p><p>rotten food on bags,</p><p>still, I'd taken out,</p><p>all of that.</p><p><br /></p><p>And we are still counting,</p><p>measuring, who was hurt the most?</p><p>just by looking,</p><p>at the other one.</p><p><br /></p>Juanfhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/08494146007849330742noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-6288518623456095575.post-74093758493726752082022-02-07T12:32:00.003-08:002022-04-11T11:29:18.975-07:00Untitled.<p> "Me encanta que haya crecido ese árbol"</p><p><span> - Decía mientras miraba la ausencia de una pared blanca decolorada ahora opacada por el nuevo árbol.</span><br /></p><p>En mi patio hay 5 gigantes, verdes de diferentes color. Deseados, amados, indeseados, heredados y tercos.</p><p>Parecen de diferente rara procedencia y ajenos de donde crecen. Parecía ahora reconocer estos gigantes como la naturaleza de mi estremidades.</p><p>No había caído en cuenta antes de ellos hasta que mencionaron uno.</p><p>Sí, tal como esa mañana de resaca donde noté mis extrimadades extrañamente grandes. Explore mi rostro ahora con hilos de cabellos, la piel, mi ecuerpo y el hieco de mi cabeza en la almohada.</p><p>Había madurado, era un adulto, pero no habia reparado mi cuerpo.</p><p>En ese instante me sentí un desconocido en mi cuerpo.</p>Juanfhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/08494146007849330742noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-6288518623456095575.post-16836341318472568892022-02-06T13:06:00.004-08:002022-02-06T13:11:35.490-08:00USK Pt.1<p> Me incluí en tí, joven,</p><p>cuando esto estaba poblado de nosotros.</p><p>Tú no eres de aquí, y por tí estoy en tí.</p><p><br /></p><p>Cazadores iban y venían,</p><p>titularon esta tierra con el acto.</p><p>Entonces nos visitaban más.</p><p><br /></p><p>Estamos ahora rodeado de piedras,</p><p>es una falsa sensación de accesibilidad.</p><p>¿Y para quién?</p><p>Nos visita mas el viento que nada.</p><p><br /></p><p>En esta tierra de cazadores nadie caza.</p><p>y yo sigo acá pesándote,</p><p>hasta que nos cambien por otra piedra,</p><p>por otro acceso,</p><p>por una luz,</p><p>por un aviso,</p><p>por estorbar.</p>Juanfhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/08494146007849330742noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-6288518623456095575.post-20930738431766529992021-12-21T20:33:00.004-08:002022-02-07T12:38:53.973-08:00Roaming ember dusk pt1<p> I wish I didn't see your eyebrows arching up that way to the sky that morning.</p><p>Seemed like we wouldn't see us again.</p><p>I hope I didn't do the same.</p><p>I'm hoping you didn't see the same on me;</p><p><br /></p><p>Fear took place.</p><p>Things and time led to the other and it came uninvited.</p><p>It came so fast.</p><p><br /></p><p>I didn't even say good bye.</p><p>Is that what you feared?</p>Juanfhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/08494146007849330742noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-6288518623456095575.post-2464145874183863162021-07-19T22:02:00.002-07:002021-12-21T20:35:20.474-08:00Restless rest.<p> Lately I feel, or full, should I say, </p><p>satiated, </p><p>complete.</p><p><br /></p><p>But I'm not.</p><p><br /></p><p>I wanted peace, but it's, oh, so quiet.</p><p>My heart doesn't move, and keeps a longing.</p><p>But longing... how?</p><p>if there is nothing to hold on to? or to miss.</p><p>My feelings and mind keeps clear,</p><p>I don't feel lonely!</p><p><br /></p><p>But I can't feel which part,</p><p>I'm sure I'm missing a part?</p><p>Should I try to find it?</p><p>Do I know how it looks?</p><p>what is it?</p><p><br /></p><p>I think, I feel, I shouldn't try to pry on it.</p><p>I won't come unscathed from that search.</p>Juanfhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/08494146007849330742noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-6288518623456095575.post-52906462140006621962021-07-11T01:03:00.009-07:002021-07-19T22:05:32.806-07:00Hold me.<p> I'm afraid to say or feel,</p><p>by the short of what I felt.</p><p><br /></p><p>My feelings are drawing borders on a night sky,</p><p>in which I'd like to fall,</p><p>even thought is just a mere sketch of what</p><p>my feeling drew.</p><p><br /></p><p>But still I wouldn't mind</p><p>fall on such endless night.</p><p><br /></p><p>You may be waiting on the dawn,</p><p>of the light that makes you see,</p><p>feel and breathe.</p><p><br /></p><p>I wanted to breathe the air,</p><p>that you didn't want to keep,</p><p>I'd like to breath such air.</p><p>Should we take turns?</p><p>Would you let me try?</p><p><br /></p><p>Water your roots,</p><p>you'll grow.</p><p>I'll water them</p><p>should I take them close?</p>Juanfhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/08494146007849330742noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-6288518623456095575.post-91866736980165129412021-06-07T18:25:00.002-07:002021-06-07T18:25:18.958-07:00Unplaced words.<p> I'd wish I were more proud on how I put words.</p><p><br /></p><p>'cause I wouldn't try to find other words to express myself.</p><p><br /></p><p>But I don't know how to talk, and try to talk.</p><p>And everything ends in words that we couldn't say.</p><p><br /></p><p>Not that we couldn't say in speaking matter,</p><p>nor we wanted to not express,</p><p>we didn't know how to say so the other one could guess us.</p><p><br /></p><p>Cause talking is constant guessing's</p><p>and we were seeing different worlds.</p><p><br /></p><p>So each words would fall in different places,</p><p>and we would arrange different paths that would eventually take us apart.</p><p><br /></p><p>I truly wish there were words that could take us closer.</p><p><br /></p><p>But now you are so far!</p><p><br /></p><p><br /></p><p><br /></p>Juanfhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/08494146007849330742noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-6288518623456095575.post-15151577078209857962021-06-07T17:59:00.003-07:002021-06-07T18:26:33.296-07:00The best<p> She used to be my "She",</p><p><br /></p><p>She didn't belong to me, but it was she, </p><p>for me, if any asked, I'd say:</p><p><br /></p><p>- "It's her"</p><p>My she.</p><p><br /></p><p>But she no longer is.</p><p>And I miss how I used to say.</p><p>My girl, my good girl,</p><p>my lovely girl, my queen,</p><p>my empress, my girl.</p><p><br /></p><p>She never belonged to me,</p><p>but she was with me,</p><p>and I loved her company.</p><p><br /></p><p>I'd lie if I say I don't miss her.</p><p>I do.</p><p><br /></p><p>I wish you the best.</p><p><br /></p><p>I wish I were the best.</p>Juanfhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/08494146007849330742noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-6288518623456095575.post-80366520246904380302021-01-07T18:08:00.004-08:002021-07-19T22:07:14.720-07:00Our blind steps.<p> How slow is taking the time to pass through,</p><p class="MsoNormal"><o:p></o:p></p>
<p class="MsoNormal">To know about the last time I’ll hear you close.<o:p></o:p></p>
<p class="MsoNormal">I’ve constantly thought if I did my best<o:p></o:p></p>
<p class="MsoNormal">And If we’ll be happier from then.<o:p></o:p></p>
<p class="MsoNormal"><o:p> </o:p></p>
<p class="MsoNormal">I’ve been missing you days,<o:p></o:p></p>
<p class="MsoNormal">Each one are falling like old books full of white pages,<o:p></o:p></p>
<p class="MsoNormal">In which we could have filled <o:p></o:p></p>
<p class="MsoNormal">Our best and sweetest words.<o:p></o:p></p>
<p class="MsoNormal"><o:p> </o:p></p>
<p class="MsoNormal">But we carry different weights, and our baggage were falling<o:p></o:p></p>
<p class="MsoNormal">In each others feet, just when we were walking in <o:p></o:p></p>
<p class="MsoNormal">Delicate spaces.<o:p></o:p></p>
<p class="MsoNormal">They fell so heavy to each other.<o:p></o:p></p>
<p class="MsoNormal">And, oh!, we never knew how to pick them properly at the moment
they fell!,<o:p></o:p></p>
<p class="MsoNormal">Without hitting ourselves.<o:p></o:p></p>
<p class="MsoNormal"><o:p> </o:p></p>
<p class="MsoNormal">Oh dear, I loved you, but following you was like holding
wood<o:p></o:p></p>
<p class="MsoNormal">And its chip went easily under my nails.<o:p></o:p></p>
<p class="MsoNormal">And I tried to grip them hard,<o:p></o:p></p>
<p class="MsoNormal">I would hold them for you, I wouldn't mind.<o:p></o:p></p>
<p class="MsoNormal">But you never accepted that they also hurt me.<o:p></o:p></p>Juanfhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/08494146007849330742noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-6288518623456095575.post-47823310425902979212020-05-12T18:35:00.001-07:002020-05-12T18:35:23.314-07:00NoCual tinta en agua,<br />
cae una porción pequeña de este pensamiento,<br />
impregna todo con su recuerdo.<br />
<br />
Al principio, un cuento<br />
todo establecido,<br />
sentamos bases y planes,<br />
en escalones de aire.<br />
<br />
Yo me flote en aquellos,<br />
y ahora he quedado tan alto,<br />
el gris metal de las nubes<br />
golpea mi pecho,<br />
condensa el agua,<br />
me pesa y entorpece.<br />
<br />
Creo ingenuamente,<br />
este debe ser un mejor momento,<br />
debió ser un mejor momento.<br />
<br />
No, habrá otro momento?<br />
<br />
No.Juanfhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/08494146007849330742noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-6288518623456095575.post-51869552318125697932020-05-08T21:06:00.002-07:002020-05-08T21:06:18.055-07:00H.Honey,<br />
<br />
So cruel, so sweet to know again about you... Do you know what it means to know about you again?<br />
<br />
I said I wouldn't do it. And I'm doing it again.<br />
<br />
I miss you and I miss how you would take your replies as harsh as lines to discover who had more insight.<br />
<br />
I'm growing dead<br />
<br />
You are going alive....Juanfhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/08494146007849330742noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-6288518623456095575.post-22667103083432345572020-05-08T21:03:00.002-07:002020-05-08T21:03:50.319-07:00Lo interegional.Encuentro historias entrelazarse de tierras que no he pisado,<br />
que no he visto.<br />
<br />
Acá nadie pertenece pero se pelean con historias, gritan<br />
con voces y timbres, ¿se entienden?<br />
Acá suena mas a quien el ego pertenece<br />
<br />
Entiende!<br />
Entiéndeme!!!<br />
<br />
Mi tierra es gris<br />
La mía es azulísima<br />
La mía es blanca<br />
La mía es amarilla.<br />
<br />
La mía sí es tierra, "y vos no eres planta", no piedra, ni arena.<br />
<br />
Barro.<br />
<br />
¡YO! - continuaban uno a uno-<br />
<br />
- Te muestro mis torpes sentimientos.<br />
- Te muestro mis flores.<br />
- Mis frutos.<br />
- Mis marcas.<br />
<br />
A vos te dejo mis cenizas y mis semillas<br />
A vos te dejo mi historias.<br />
<br />
Igual no las oían.Juanfhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/08494146007849330742noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-6288518623456095575.post-12294085650758331932020-05-08T20:56:00.002-07:002020-05-08T20:56:58.413-07:00Blue morning light.<div>
Somehow my body always forget how to talk in the morning and sounds too rash.</div>
<div>
<br /></div>
<div>
Sin embargo habría la boca con alguna pequeña queja y casi parecería como si pudiera contar esas pequeñas pausas rocosas que hacen parte del quejido y suspiro de la mañana.</div>
<div>
<br /></div>
<div>
Estás de nuevo, en esa posición que para ti no es más que una analogía o una modificación de lo que era tu posición dentro del útero. notas como se infla tu pecho y baja con normalidad, pero dentro pareciese que una pelota perdiera millones de partículas y retornaran a ti, como una manifestación caprichosa y particular de un sentimiento. </div>
<div>
<br /></div>
<div>
El tiempo sigue igual y está sensación es para ti como la erosión que causa un Río una de las orillas del mismo depositando constantemente en el lado opuesto sin sentido. </div>
<div>
<br /></div>
<div>
Caen grandes piezas, invisibles, cual cubos gigantes llenos de nada que de golpean y erosionan también, pero no hacen nada... </div>
<div>
<br /></div>
<div>
Tu cuerpo y mente están intactos. Puedes que salgas y te sorprenda el sol estando fuera y te hará sentir la contradicción del sentir y ver. No podrás jamás desenvolverte ni enrollarte en una escena romanticista, no puedes asociarte a nada. </div>
<div>
<br /></div>
<div>
Dudo entonces que esta y otras sensaciones que se ven enajenadas y alienadas por lo que nos rodea pueden existir con tanta fuerza dentro de nosotros y afectar en ninguna medida nuestro entorno sin alma?</div>
<div>
<br /></div>
<div>
Tendré que verme al espejo, enfrentar mis gestos y la facción que tengo en mi cara... </div>
<div>
<br /></div>
<div>
Sí, allí también se ve... -balbuceé.</div>
Juanfhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/08494146007849330742noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-6288518623456095575.post-74886254846758312572020-05-08T20:52:00.000-07:002020-05-08T20:52:06.813-07:00En tierra ajena.<div>
Estaba jugando a perderme en la calle. Me embriague otra vez:</div>
<div>
<br /></div>
<div>
Ruidos fuertes</div>
<div>
Música</div>
<div>
Folclore</div>
<div>
<br /></div>
<div>
Rezagos</div>
<div>
Ahora residuales</div>
<div>
Ahora</div>
<div>
<br /></div>
<div>
Dónde ir.</div>
Juanfhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/08494146007849330742noreply@blogger.com0