Wednesday, 27 May 2009

Looking into the fluid mirrors of time and space


Your ears are just blocked between the fluid's hands. The element prevails in its softness, welcoming into its womb your thoughts, cradling them for an instant. So fragile that your head emerges to leave the embrace of a sudden death.

The air welcomes you with the sound of the navigating birds into the breeze.

Summer morning, your body is still numb. You hardly remember yesterday and you surely cannot bear in mind your ideas for the new day to come.

Your skin is soft and swollen by the intense kiss of sleep, the dreams that were cradled into that head have just been erased by the maternal hug of the sea.

The fire in the light god of the sky is falling over you, envelopping your innocent skin, protecting you from the darkness in your previous thoughts.

You look into your mother's eyes, deep beyond your own vision of yourself on her surface. You can see that you move onto her, she modulates you and creates whatever forms you can portray about yourself. Stay longer into that image and you will be able to see her there sustaining the whole substance of your life.

You get closer to yourself, hands almost reaching the ones on the water, lips closer to your own mirror, your heart touching gently the heart of the perennial reservoir of love.

The moment you kiss the image reflected on the wavy element, you get into a different realm of thought. The truth is that you no longer see yourself in there, but somehow it doesn't really matter to you. It is so comfortable in here. You let yourself free into this womb, protected by the liquid of love.

You fall progressively into the tide's dance, and the rhythm of internal music leads you to the bottom. The sand is your back now, and you can look at the other end of your image, there where you thought you were. Your mouth is open now and new ideas flow inside you. The notions of time and space are now yours, but there is without any sense to try and use them for anything in particular. You just want to feel them forever inside your throat. You are being filled with all that gives any sense to your life.

Those watching from the blue roof are dry of any divine life. Just as you were, they poured their hollowness onto the surface of the sea in desperate call for nurturing.

You watch them ask for help, as you always did before this july morning.

They think they know what, they are drown to ignorance and decay. Their teeth are polished by the stream of the desert, the sand performing a ritual of tribal trepanation inside their minds. Desperation is a needle, and no blood can quench its thirst for erasing the sole foundation of our minds.

The sea is your bed, the water your mattress, your solace in times of death.
Satiated, inflated, swollen by the ecstasy of life you will slowly flow back to surface again. One day, one life, one night the moon will be your only mirror, the water will drop out from you and the night will welcome you into her own womb.

And there, free from everything you ever were, you will tell me all the secrets of our existence. Calm, full, and inspired by your rebirth.

from the touch of water below
and the kiss of the dreamy moon above

Friday, 22 May 2009

The dusk lullaby of the Devil's dreamed shadow

Approaching the walls of oblivion,

chastity torn in rags,

sanity flowing through,

pain escaping through the cracks

Arriving to you for the seventh night,

morbid passions, bloody stanzas sang,

pleasure sculpted on your naked breasts,

feeding the rage of my delectable murder

adding colour to the ruin of your canvas

Hands tied tightly to roof chains

skin pierced by fate,

legs stretched, feet lost

whiteness stained with lust

dust and crime new extremes

Hiding strongly in my cobweb,

sheltering hideousness in the dark

building my lust in my pervert heart

drinking from the fruit of fatal decay

becoming one with your defeated flesh,

sleeping away from your the weight of your bones

Your secret stays with me,

abominated lust, famine forbid

i am the thief of your bloodiest dreams

the silent horse of a screaming death

See me there while you die

watch me crawling over your shadow

matching its motion

knitting its ends to my fate

folding your funeral shroud with your tears

Saying farewell to your innocence

locking yourself up

to the tastes of Hell

a profuse wound drenched with the holy grail

of your neverending blood quell

bathing my black hollow soul

with the sour burning scent

of your melting love in my veins

Friday, 15 May 2009

Breve diálogo con una sombra nocturna

Toma todo lo que quede dentro

sintiéndo alivio con cada parte

desprovista de su raíz

desprendiéndose lentamente

acariciando dulcemente mientras me abandona

Arráncame algunas flores más

no dejes nada para el final

tienes tres días para irte

y dos pasaron ya

Besa un poco más

ama, abraza, llora sobre mí

la tierna melancolía te embarga

déjala tomarte una última vez

No me vistas,

no me digas adiós,

no vengas otra vez y te acerques a mi lado

ya no podrás

Ahora toma todo lo que puedas

llévate todo lo que echarás de menos

y deja atrás lo que pensabas cargar

lo nuestro, lo suyo y los demás

Mira esta cruz

acaricia sus huecos entre mis dedos

atrapa los silencios entre mis labios

respira el vacío de la inercia en mis brazos

Atrapa mis piernas entre las tuyas

lame el flujo entre mis heridas

abre mis cicatrices una última vez

y luego no mires atrás

No llores, no sueñes, no apliques telajes

a espacios más amplios

ríos más caudalosos

mares incontenibles en tu distancia

Deja que me consuma solo

cierra las puertas con llave

entierrame entero en el cieno

límpiate de mí

Yo me alejo, me río tras el fuego

me cobijo en el pasado

anclado en la raíz del miedo

en la oscuridad vencida del olvido

Wednesday, 6 May 2009

Umbra genesis

I think I promised not to dance with death again. Last time I checked things were not so different than now, so this conversation should have never taken place.

My lips left the numb mouth of life long time ago and I still keep the last seconds of your breathing loss in my mind.

The last note was very clear on one aspect: we would never meet again. At least it shouldn't be in these circumstances. We were to be surrounded by other walls, furnished by experiences of an inverted dimension of values.

Don't blame this on me now, I had no choice but to open my eyes in the same room we said goodbye and if all of this seems redundant to you, I kindly request you to stop reading at this moment.

For this what I am about to tell you is nothing that you and I don't know already. We were part of this insanity together, and then we abandoned each other to all kind of perversions in order to avoid the void in it all. The blackness of our hopes had penetrated places where the mind escapes its voluntary prison and becomes a fragile toy in hands of no one sensitive enough to be called human.

But that, I insist, you are aware of it by now. Or you would better be...

I was closing the door, leaving us alone in the air of a sure death. Not sudden, not unexpectedly I looked at the corridor before me and I could feel relief and delectability for hope for the first time in years.

There you were again, or should I say me? Who could know what kind of phenomenon could this be about, only deciphered by the strange and twisted pages of insanity?

The same face, the very similar copy of my own features sent back to me in singular grim: the eyes shining, the mouth open in a cruel way, the predator looking at the master knowing that no more wait can be taken inside the cage of time.

I could not avoid staring at that image on the other side of the particular hollow mirror, my fingertips glued to the metallic door handle, my feet sealed on the wooden doorway. The horrible vision was slowly breathing from the very source of my air, squeezing my lungs and piercing my throat swiftly, nothing could seem to stop it. It was all clouded, the roof started to move and shriek, the window panes waved to the symphony of the rain clapping on my ears. I thought I was swallowed by the cold waters of a distant black sea, merciless and ruthless under the monotony of a severe storm night. The coldness was stronger, grabbing my back, shaking my ribs, pushing the liquids inside my caves. Pain was long ago gone, replaced by the comfort of a death you know that it would arrive one day. And finally, the void...


Some time later, the blood in my eyelids drums against my eyes, provoking a sudden awakenening to a different reality. You know what I am talking about, since I have longer referred to this in our talks. There i was, out on the street again, clad in a black...perfuming my suits with the scent of murder. My body was filled with a different cover, somehow penetrating smoothly through the pores of my skin, pouring all sorts of evil into my insides. My soul was been bathed in the new moon's decay, kissed by all the horrors always imagined. My heart was drawn in all this blackness and could not hold the bolts of sanity for much longer. Sanity was a toy in the hands of an old wise man, a minimalist searching for the deconstruction of human truths. Love was under the scalpel of a divine death, throned and sheltered by the collective horrors of the human fragility.

My old self was still there, clipped to the shades on its home, nailed to the memories of the past. So was its purity and values. His body was pure decoration, devoided of all colour...the flesh hardened and plastered onto the building, like any other gargoyle scaring the birds of peace away.
He was no longer man, I was again the monster I always feared to be.

I looked once more into the scene of death, with no signs of pity or remorse. I knew that this time there was no turning back, the paths of life had all directed into this one and the future laid clearly before me. I was born to haunt, to feed on shadows and live into the blackest realms of life. Searching for the roots of the human kind, studying the meanings of every move of each cell in my fellow beings. Breaking into their minds, sucking into their existential wounds to open other scars in me. A life dressed to portray all the poison of society into the air, its frames the own city streets, and the witness the crows and stones that will quietly stand by me.

You and I know what will be next, you can imagine that you can now leave me and try to escape to what it will surely happen. I doubt you can go very far, my voice is too tempting and so is my story. I am sure you want to forget about me, folding your blanket on your eyes and hoping for a different vision on the next day. I invite you to do it if you can... but i wonder if you really desire to do so. After all, you are as guilty as me. You could have tried to prevent this from happening but you finally did nothing. I think that deep inside you there is a thirst of knowledge, no matter how evil or dark this may turn to be. Maybe there is no option for you either, no way back to innocence. Perhaps...we are not so different after all.

Follow me and we will discover it

Monday, 4 May 2009

Oscuridad Vertical

Ascendiendo cada vez más,
abandonando todo en la ciénaga del vacío
volamos, dejando en el viento aquello que nos perteneció

Formas, vicios, llantos
dejan paso a la inmoralidad del destino menos sabio
más corroído que la máquina de nuestro tiempo
lamido por el hálito de las vísceras sociópatas

Vuela, olvida, intenta
que todo lo que te atenazaba,
la vida que tu guardabas en tu memoria
murmura en el viento de tu olvido
señales de los que otros recordarán
estudiando en enferma melancolía

Alma en pena,
vértigo que vierte barro
sucia realidad deja paso a la verdad
máscaras enganchadas al alambre agudo de tu miedo

Y nos liberamos de la vida
untándonos con la angustia de la irrealidad
los sueños son un bálsamo escaso
cuando tu cuerpo tiene demasiada piel
y tu alma ya no tiene sentido

Suspendidos en el espacio
mordidos y lamidos por la bestia de la inmortal fealdad
la presión de la muerte no tolera igual

Es aquí donde me quedaré
bailando entre las demás luces del invierno,
robando horas a tu intenso sueño
celebrando la muerte de la vanidad

Inmerso en la placenta etérea de la muerte
agarrado a la memoria del futuro incierto
batiéndo mis alas contra las fuerzas del destino
comiendo los restos de tu gloria

No sé por qué pero no sé quién es
tiritando en el jardín del ensueño
la locura habita en su encierro
llora, ríe, gime y muere

Aquí en la negra e inerte soledad
de la oscuridad vertical