THE LYRICKER ( or... words and wonder)

It's only just a kind of broken illusion...
Read and memorise everything one at a time all off by heart transferring information from eyes to brain from brain to soul from soul to integrity. 
Through music find a pattern, o model, an explanation of  the path that leads my thoughts to clear reality and when daylight touches the night with the gentle shining of the first ray, words start spillig themselves away from the chest of secrets and change themselves into misterious engravings. As ink is walking allover another universe, small literal structures bring themselves to life giving meaning to the coldest fears of a decriptable personality. 
My little shire all closed and locked up inside, serenity and blue blood dropping out bit by bit without a struggle, releasing the magic of a written song, forsight's destiny (maybe) and flying high above Paradise, the Ibis bird brings a message to me, so I can feel for my inner clock is getting warm again and inspiration comes at hand when least expected. The glass that will always show me my time on Earth stares into the deep while over and over words run in and out of pages , forever thoughts and everyday's memories all in movable fragments of a touchable understanding as the nominal string of human perception slowly drifting away into confusion and hopefully chromatic questions or perhaps diametral requests and crucial wishes of reaching the 'other side' of the matter. 
Sentences and paragraphs rhymes in order and a kind of something else all mixed together in the perfect receipe of the temporarily unknown however turnable into a spontaneous revelation incorporated within and again the notion of 'inner' unharmed by any mean, rising from some dusty sleep between nightmare and redemption, power of a strong sedative thankfully taken by mistake in a slightly lesser quantity all in order to contradict the ferocious threat of an infinite deadline unrespectable by any way not even showing sympathy to time that had been given (useful for waiting) proceeding into the grandeousness of will reinventing a mindly axe a new circle and some diving classes which finally prove themselves brilliant, a startling imaginary trailer unlocking the iron door of stranger ground , the block of flats that had been built before falling away into nonsense and a melancholic smell of that past light unfolds away the origami paper and brings it all back to stillness.
Covered again in a sleepy unawareness I stroll between this side and the other one marking tracks and deleting systematic errors from wherever they might be and words and words and words once and another time once upon an endless book making and remaking and remarking and reinventing and redefining themselves and us all in a severe arrangement while we cling to life as if it were a small sample of that excelent 'everything' or even more than an earthly word losing even myself losing the grasp for yet another moment of still thoughtlessness marvelously wrapped up in a beautiful pack and said to be given as a gift to whomever would like to receive it....

Hielo

Que me alejara.... El recuerdo de aquella noche... La paz de las paredes, escaleras solitarias llevando al otro mundo a los que estában subiendo... Una calle sin fronteras, un tráfico sin reglas ... y sangre en todo lugar, convenciendome de que nada de lo visto pudiera haver sido real.
Tomé por la mano al culpable de la escena y empiezé a correr en tres puntos diferentes del mundo hasta que llegué al fin de la razón, sin pensamiento alguno destacando entre mi própio temor y el frio de afuera.... Y tú que me dijiste que te gustába jugar con la nieve en tu juventúd, entregandome la más fria vista con ojos abiertos, cristales, un mar y el mundo enterro tratando de no recaer en lo que fué pasando por otra cosa, algo más fictivo... Y mezclandose frente a mi en una ensalada de colores que yo solamente sabía leer con mi microscopio, allí habían caras oscuras de unos antíguos recuerdos guardados en la cajita roja, en la casa de las viejas donde nadie entrába sin sentir el miedo y las miradas puestas en cima del alma.
Asi pasa con la mente que gira y gira y no vuelve a nada de lo iniciál, asi pasó cuando lágrimas, en su punto finál de caer para seguir la transffiguración naturál, volvían y no dejaban de pasar más allá de las mejillas rojas corriendo por tóda la pintura de dos fragmentos, terminología del sufrimiento heredado e imaginación reflexiva trás de una definición sóbria e integra perfectamente escrita en un negro pasivo sobre papeles amarillas  insensibles, compartiendo la cosa más concréta que cada quien adivina pero sentidos y dolores escondidas no dejann que salgan palabras para anunciar que nada será lo mismo después de aquel tiempo frio de niieve y hielo.
Luego vendrá la luz del día, frio como el invierno y escaleras torpes ellas mismas , dejando a la gente que caiga en el abismo lejano y haciendose parte integra de la crimen por la superioridád del mal o tal vez del indefinido trás la muerte de los sin defensa..
¿que me aleje? ... ya lo hice... amargo sea el savor pero glorioso el hielo que hoy soy yo...

The escape

When ice starts melting upon solid ground as if reality would have brought down some spcter of its existence within the wrath of tomorrow, all a misty memory with the a milky flavour consisting of an unreal spiral dream in the DNAlike shape of difference. 
The scientific glow of wonder as no mear mortal being can reach out a hand and touch this shining molecule not even with a fingernail, the start of a new end, revolutionary meanings created by truth and trust from ancient times until the end of Humanity. 
Thus, while eyes open wide looking for the locked gates of forbidness, destroy the silver chains extended in a snakelike embrase towards a sadistic body spreading a river of red sorrow all around misunderstanding and heavy gray thoughts. 
This whole range of mindly struggle and metaphore might one day bring the escape ... Where to? None knows... 

TO m: LETTER 1

Dear M:
I write to you now as I would have known you since the birth of eternity... As you are an unreal and kind of an irrelevant universal construction I think I could touch some particles with my field of energy and this is the reason why I am now standing here in a material corner trying to break through the deepest notions  and get to you in an abstract window of silvery thoughts.
Yesterday I have been out in search of an answer and as the street was propelling me in a windy direction towards the dark horisons, my mind drifted away to the green and rainy places where you could be found . With my heart on the table, betting my own life on the touch of a key I'm building up fences of this new world of reason , might and maybe expectation, not throwing everything away but gathering it all in a bag of inner balance that has been stabilising me for the past time... I have been shattering your world from outside your life and as far as I can now see it might not have been enough since I am now touching black matter in search for some magnetic impossible link... As bolts of light reveal my once passive attitude towards awareness my head rises in search for the cutting spark of movement leaving me broken in a flash where the ground of the unknown is shaking bellow my orientatively straight position ending a concept that once was mine, thus taking me to your different world experience and your distinct structure of uncertainty because you do not exist as a being but you are in theory the relative notion of confort. If you open yourself to me I will free your existence and transfer you to a land of translucid forgetfullness while a memory of you will be lost behind on Earth. If this is not your wish then so be it you will always face your unconceous guilt upon living in a written letter forever.
Watch me burn and I will watch you sink into the revelator reverie on the  edge of endless teardrops of sincerity ...

Regards...

SUFLET FERECAT

Eram farama de luna si atingeam cu poezie somnolenta apusun in care cautam scapare. Crezul celor patru zari in care se scufunda fiecare gand ce pleaca de la om catre nesfarsitele intrebari si se intoarce ricosand din departare ca pana de corb  neagra si precisa , atingere delicata pe pleoapa inocentei , intredeschisa gata de atac asemenea unei tigroaice. Castelul de nisip unde mi te-au incuiat, fortareata titanica de rautate si doar un gand luminos ce patrunde la tine prin umbrele noptii dezgheata sangele si redeschide siragul de lacrimi... Imi faci un colier din ele?
Apoi se-nchide cutiuta muzicala si nu se mai invartesc eroii din poveste iar stelele cad tare tare cu zgomot asurzitor intr-o stare lichida de gheata cu aroma dulce ca a zaharului pur cules din racoarea unui sarut la orele cele mai dureroase.
Corabiile mergand spre starea lor de plutire lasa in urma un jet de fantezii iar tu inchis acolo, suflet drag, castelul de nisip nu se farama la atingerea apei nemiloase care este cu el blanda, mama iubitoare, creatorul de dezastre.
Cu cartea sa sta cel ce scrie nemiscat si impenetrabil, penita intepenita intr-o mana de plumb si susur de inspiratie cufunda umbrosul decor, lumina se frange in trupul meu spinos iar sangele colorat cald ca umanitatea ploua peste muntii de flacari jucause si cheama suflete stranse la jale cantand toti in cor un cantec uitat . Iar tu suflet drag , ramai ferecat.......

DESPRE CIVILIZATII

Se intalneste privirea cu o viata anterioara...Te vad ma vezi si lumea parca se clatina in jurul meu.
Imi amintesc brusc de o copilarie indiana, cu cantece si poezii, povestile batranilor intelepti in jurul focului, baile in Gange si florile aromate ce-mi serveau drept pat de alinare. Vad marile civilizatii in jurul meu plutind in timp ce eu atarn in nemiscare intre lumi si secole pe aripile unei calatorii stelare.
Emirii se pleaca si ei la rugaciune iar bijuteriile femeilor pot cumpara o lume...
In China zidul cel mare sta de straja ca omul rau sa nu poata patrunde si sa vaza
In tarile-africane se canta, se danseaza iar focul ritualic e a sfatului masa
Romanii cei puternici cu oaste au pornit... Pamantul cat de mare pe tot l-au cucerit
Apoi civilizatii incep sa se rasfire se inventeaza oameni alt fel de minti si zile
Romanii cei de astazi fasciile re-nvie. Din arta fac razboaie ce-i duc intru pieire
Imperii ridicate pe baza de trecut. Nimeni sa nu se-abata de la necunoscut
Apoi pe vremi de pace, razboiul e tot rece.. Iar omul nu mai stie daca-ntr-o zi va trece
Pe unde de stiinta sta scris al tau destin. Iar tu de esti fiinta te-ai ales cu putin
Gandire si idee iluzii si necaz. Acesta este insa al lumii mare haz.
In versuri scriu povestea ce-arata numai timpul. Iar tu traind chiar astazi poti sa tii oare ritmul?
De armele-ti sunt drepte pornesti la drum cu noi... dar lupta penru pace nu pentru alt razboi...

CLADIREA VIE

In apa am scapat un gand si undele de viata melancolice ca un cantec se misca la infinit, ata din ghemul moirelor cu hartie pictata in acuarela de o culoare indefinita dar superba in ciudatenia ei raspandesc in jur un murmur infiorator de neclintire.
Eu, cladire din piatra cu trairi gratioase sculptate in marmura, pe caramida , broderie migaloasa dintr-un mozaic de suflet transparent colorat cu sange sters de vreme , coperta prafuita si pagini cu miros de vanilie , o familie pierduta zace acum in biblioteca mea si sterge visele de praf cu o carpa din foita aurita. 
Acolo unde patronul trezoreriei i-a dat filosofului sarman o moneda s-a format o noua idee, iar lumea si-a schimbat total cursul invartindu-se in jurul monedei pe care sarmanul indragostit de intelepciune o arunca in sus, iar ea cadea aprobandu-l pe Newton si ingreunand cu fiecare secunda sarcina bietului Atlas ce zbiera un poem de indurare.
Si trec si anii impovarati de fericire si tristete, sacose pline inghesuite undeva iar fericirea universala, impletindu-se intre boabe de susan cu o aroma catifelata dau gust painii realitatii din care zilnic musc, cladire fiind in mine inghit si oameni cu lucrurile lor, mananc la fel ca ei, ii simt pe ei, traiesc prin ei... Sunt piatra vie... sunt trecut sunt o poveste sunt si prezent si viitor dar nu sunt doar o amintire...