It might be

They whisper in the dark
as if the shadows they came from
had never been there.
As if the light their eyes are throwing to me
was the pure light of the unconditional love of God,
or the world, or whatever you believe in,
I sincerely think we all should believe in the reality of the doubt,
first of all.
Then you can go and pray to a man in the clouds
or a priest in the crowd,
Can't you hear the voices of the brainless?
They scream with their mouth shut,
they eat with no teeth,
they make love without legs, without air, without heart.
They walk around like the remaining of an ancient art:
the ignorance itself expressed right through the humdrum thoughts
and the light machines sending detrimental waves to the souls of the people
who hasn't been tainted yet.
We feel the wind taking away
what might save us in the near future
and still we think everything will be fixed by itself.
 It might be.

Aparte de todo

Puede que te eche de menos
Aparte de los gemidos
de otros
Aparte de las llamadas
a la una de la mañana
Aparte de los días que me da todo rabia
y la cambio por indiferencia
Aparte de los recuerdos de canciones de olores
de momentos espectacularmente normales
Aparte de la rutina que odiaba mientras
soñaba en echarte de menos sin querer
Aparte de la juventud que me da la libertad
y la libertad que me da mi juventud, sin ti
Aparte de las veces que revisé todos los pasos, y miré atrás
Aparte del humo deshecho en que nos íbamos
cuando todo iba mal
Aparte de echarte de menos,
puede que todavía te quiera de más.

Literalmente

Dice Bukowski que nunca escribas si nunca te queman las palabras por dentro. A mi modo yo lo llamo vomitar tus letras. Hay aquellos que pretenden haber comido ya pero en realidad tienen el estómago vacío. Hay quienes sólo vomitan después de dos tragos largos de whisky. Hay quienes sólo articulan sus ideas en el papel después de una experiencia parecida a subirse a una montaña rusa. Yo no tengo mi momento,

En realidad, como todos,

Vomito cuando me sale,

Literalmente.

SEVEN

Seven lives saved by a cat,

Seven oceans to get through

Seven days to taste again the lips of the free people

The people who burn between the icebergs that killed titanic

The people who are mad, mad like the whole world but not in the same direction

Their madness goes up and flows down like a couple of lovers making that thing lovers make, and sweating, and shouting the truth of the ones who are mute and unloved

Seven fingers that walk up and down my chest and my back and make me feel the universe in my skin, an explosion of pleasures

Seven years to learn about loving and being loved, forgiving and understanding

And yet we are here, wondering the same with no fucking idea of what to do next.