The sincerity of a dream

I stand in air, looking back to what seems like yesterday
Locked inside the gates of my blind visions, lost memories.

Taken from the pieces on the ground, that lay sparse around.
Making you stand, be born, be the basic element of life

And then I sense the raw thoughts of your mind, flirting around
Making me desire more, like the thirst of lust or lack of faith

I see myself beneath, basic, terrene, just a piece among the chaos
Bringing my heart forward, and covering it in ice, inert.

And why you ask? Because of justice, because it was simply right
And like that, I handed myself in, for the inner, complex side.

I stand on earth, looking down to what seems like today
Locked inside the deal from life, the one that is fair

Taken from the walls around my soul that stand strong.
Making you kneel, exist, and be the basic form or life

And then I sense the urgent thoughts of your mind, holding me
Making me desire, like the thirst of inspiration and lack of luck

I see myself inside, locked, immobile, just a standing piece
Bringing my present self forward, and giving it another chance.

And why you ask? Because of hope, because it is simply necessary
And like that, I will hand in myself, the dreaming scarce side.

I stand on hope, looking up to what seems like tomorrow
Locked inside the fantasies, those that don’t exist.

And then I sense the beating heart of inspiration, calling me
Making me dream, like the thirst for freedom, for myself.

I see myself above, complete, real, just like I need to be
Bringing my spirit forward, and finally letting go.

And why you ask? Because I have to, because of who I am
And like that, I take the hand of time, and the dream slowly fades.

Cuando cala el alma

El sonido que se lleva la imagen en el viento
Que regresa milagrosamente el tiempo
Ese que hace que sin querer recordemos
Y sin poderlo detener, nos cala el alma

Nos detiene un poco, nos mata un poco
Nos da la vida y nos la quita
Por que solo son recuerdos, un espejo
Que reflejan la nostalgia de los sueños

Cuando sin querer pensamos en el tiempo
Y recordamos sentimientos, fijos y serenos
Empezamos a entender, al quien vive del recuerdo
La triste nostalgia vieja, de quien se perdió en el viento

Hoy recuerdo lo que fui, y en ti lo que seré
Pero mi alma se cala, con tristeza adelantada
Por que lo que fue, ya fue; y lo que será, no sé.
Y yo aquí sigo viviendo, perpetuado en el ayer.

Y en el nuevo amanecer recuerdo
que yo sigo entre los vivos, tejiendo momentos
y los qe vendrán entenderán al tiempo
con su alma calada, y una lagrima en el viento.

The moment life began

Secretly we sometimes dream, in the deepest sense of our intimacy
We forget the moments, we create the stories, and we write the script.

Silently we sometimes fly, into the nets of time, everlasting and sharp
We let our moments vanish, getting consumed and slowly vaporized.

Patiently we sometimes hope for the instants in which you can shape a vision;
From where pleasure is born, in which we reach a milestone, a goal.

And just life that, life happens and rolls, letting time set a footprint in the soul;
Taking away the secrets, the silence and the hope, we grow old.

But what I was, I am not, what I dream I don’t now, Where I flied I won’t any more,
And even then… the moments, the pleasure, and the secrets made me proud.

And as a new cycle rolls, I dare to see a new color, to understand a new word, to believe a new creed, to simply let time turn.

And just like that, the moment life began… will never stop.

Frozen

In the middle of the night I see you; clearly marking the path to the road of uncertainty. Dangerously, I flirt with the romanticism of the memories, and I wonder if you still do too.

The room is dark; almost the same color of our memories, the ones we managed to create in the middle of our fears; Afraid of loving, of living, of loosing; sharing that last moment, living for the last moment.

Frozen in the center of my mind are the feelings, locked and trapped in the cold, hard sense of regret and guilty pleasures. The ideas that once were, are nothing more than mere ghosts of lost hope.

And this is how we choose to go; disappear inside our memories, in desperate pledge for forgiveness and peace. I chose your lines for my play, as I am sure, you have chosen mine.

I say farewell as I have done so many times, with one hand in my heart, a new casualty for my hopes, and the fear of your sudden comeback, in the shape of a song, a smell, or a word.

How can you be somewhere else, when you never left?

Leaving my borrowed life behind

It’s time to move on, I thought. My mind giving me cross references that made my heart ache with mixed sensations. I had left that morning to a new life, excited, scared and obligated by the circumstances. I was a half immigrant, with one foot in, but still chained by the incredible toughness of a system.

Nostalgia and fear, they all were there and sat next to my mind as co-pilots on the ride to a new life, one that was given as a pity loan, in which I was the object of a deal that I had very little to say for.

I didn’t have time to apply a judging thought to the series of events; I was merely existing, in silence, with very little hope.

I borrowed a wore-out smile, a tiny sample of dignity, and carried with me a bag full of old and tight clothes, filling the space with the unavoidable sense of fear; fear of the unknown and the uncertain.

My new life was set up in the shape of a fruit basket, lying in the breakfast bar of an empty kitchen, and that meant the world to me. It was a clear sign of hope, as I have taken to give fruit baskets to people in some sort of disgrace.

My steps were cautious; I had learned too well to never give a step without proper inspection. Just like a street cat in a new home, skepticism was my biggest shield, I wanted it to be truth, I wanted it to be right.

And the new life began, split like the heart of a war criminal, I had a life left behind far away, and a new reality, consistent of an environment that I couldn’t grasp, an office filled with strangers that passed by a back door at a rapid rate, slamming the big, noisy metal doors as they went through and the feeling of being the only dark grain in a full bag of white rice.

Step by step, what should have been a process of adaptation became a new way of survival, a new set of rules, in which I had to respond to a series of expectations that were part of that broken deal; filled with secrets in which I had very little input. I realized that my life was still wrecked in two parts and there was an obvious winner.

Then freedom came, in the shape of an e-mail, then a passport, after that a piece of paper that three weeks later would translate in a small two by three-point-five inches card, step by step, like a survivor in a disaster area making his way through the rubble. I could barely content myself, just to realize that I still had the moral commitment to my “redeemers”, or so I thought.

The light was shinning right into my eyes and after such a long time of darkness, I was blinded for a while; feeling lost, without direction, the warm stream of emotions raced throughout my system, giving me back the freedom which I still evaded feeling for the fear that it was a dream, a fantasy. I was ready to fly, to explore, but then fear came, cornered and trapped me.

I was the one to blame I thought; the guilt translated in insecurities, which echoed in my non-fructuous efforts to escape the state of mind, the overwhelming thought of coming back to earth as a full person, as a rightful human being.

And life happened… I was forced to take back the curse of life, the one I had been assigned as what I wanted to think was my destiny. With so little hope, so few expectations; but hungry of living, of seeing, of harvesting all the promises left by the sacrifices.

Half broken is how I felt. The memories of my life were misting with the bitter pictures of those who held me back; the ones that once made promises and held me captive of their selfish existence. Unable to scream, to run, I was a slave of the circumstances.

A mental picture of the loss of dignity; Printed in the back of my head, while I saw too many planes flight away with my own dreams on board, and half my heart left to be stepped down by that new acquired sense of quilt. I chose to suffer, because I was still blinded by the stream of light, the price of freedom, the recuperation of myself.

What is fair? I thought bitterly, why am I still here? I told to myself in a desperate plea for redemption. Then I saw it, clearly and shiny, life is not fair; I had to gain it back, and return this borrowed one to the circumstances.

The choice then was mine, for the longest time I felt able to show some of my feelings. I slapped in the face those who for so long showed me coward sympathy, I terminated the unfair contract that was signed with two hands tied up in a string of emotional distress, and decided to fear the unknown, the uncertain landscape of possibilities, still half-broken, still afraid.

And this is how I leave my borrowed life. I take with me my old tight clothes, but I leave behind the fear of a half immigrant, the lack of dignity; I take with me the uncertainty of the future, but I leave behind the slavering strings of circumstances; I move on, leaving my borrowed life behind, to look back at a dream, that was a nightmare, to learn more lessons.

Old grown-up enemy

You are back, inside and settled. And just like in the last time, I sense your unequivocal presence, making home in the core of my guts, misting my ideas with your usual salutations.

Uninvited just like always, you take command, and choose to make the important decisions of the unexpected moments. I have no choice but to fear you, and to have a chat of pledge with my visions.

You have found the keys again, and settled; I tried to hide, to forget, to ignore, but I am human too, and I am vulnerable to you, just like anybody else who has tasted life and seen it all. I have learned to nourish you right inside my soul.

In a sharp feeling sense, you kick in, I feel sick, dizzy and temperamental. I have no patience not even for my casual thoughts, those that I get to use once in a while to feel special, and here you are.

Time rolls back, as I know a new change is in order, and you wait here, patiently, ready to charge, just like before.

You are “Anxiety” and I detest you.

Because I had to

You walked on, far and away, reached the limits of time inside my head
In an instant you are back, breaking the fragile shield

You chose to leave, ripped my soul apart, and here you still live
Hidden in the corners of my mind.

I saw your eyes, and unleashed the force, my dearest failure
With your uncovered truth, I see my loss

The distance is strong, and admirably unbeatable
I apologize to my broken memories, my wounded heart and my silenced words

But inside myself you live! Like a convict hiding from Justice
I let you in, with the condition that you would never be alive again

But I can see the pain, reflected in the purest form of fear
That one that you don’t believe it could exist

Until you feel it.

You walked on and far away. And in the path you left, are found
The ashes of that life... that time took charge to blow away.