Blog Archives

el primo de rusa

8/28/2011

pequena pero con fuerza
esta importante que pueden olerte
mares ocupadas, muchos sentidos
a veces no puedes oler a ti misma.
pero yo se que tienes una tierra distinta
eres el primo a la rusa
y a veces tomando el pelo
como a disfrazar travieso.

no lo se si puedo confiarte?
imagino si me permito a nadar en tus lagos
chupar tus dulces y dormir de bajo de tus ojos
yo podria vivir con intensidad.
pero tal vez demasiado?

no eres la pais primero en la linea
de los tropes ni los amantes buscando
para adrenalina, en las noches con ojos abiertos
quizas es un razon que tu tierra
parece comoda para mi a dormir. un ilusion
mientras tu duchas a encontrar tu voz
al lado de tu primo enorme
quiero confiarte
que tu pais puede ser diferente
pero mucho mas agradable para mis pies

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Chain

8/28/2011

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it's so good to get
outside
stop wasting away
take a sip of the night
reminder i'm somebody unafraid
although
i look over my shoulder
look over my shoulder
is he coming my way?
life is unpredictable
sometimes it feels like a game.
and i want to be
over my shoulder, over my shoulder
rid of expectations
(like i know what i really want)
i'm quickly getting older
over and over
it goes through my brain
leaning in, i want to
break through these cycles
break through those cycles
like the buck stops here
can i change my life by doing
exactly the same thing
don't want to be part of this chain

familiar is comfort as familiar is dangerous
i know it's not good for me, why should i just repeat
the same thing?
the same rhyme, the same time, the same sing
chords that only go in one direction
scratching heads because you can't tell if they're sad
or happy, complex like a riddle
scratched on a fiddle, a soloist march
familiar tune that sticks around, gets stuck in your head
until you're dead. unless you want to change it up
and do something a little differently

over and over, looking over my shoulder
waiting for the past to come and swallow me up again
my fists are wings
a temporary fix to avoid that song getting stuck in my head
one more time, just for a rhyme
just for the sake of knowing the pattern
that forms the design of my life
thread by thread, day by day
i'm thirsty, sip the night, be unafraid
and keep myself busy
before i make myself dizzy
this is why it's so good to get outside
and if i once again meet the bearer of bad luck
it at least won't feel so foreign, maybe i'll know what to do
and break the familiar chain following me around

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cierzo

8/26/2011

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you'll never know
which way the wind will blow in this city
it strings you like bait, boosts you up and lets you down
until you've got nothing left

on the nights i'm falling down
in the depths of this small town
i cling to the hope that i'll rise
on a path that's small and subtle
yet keeps me out of trouble
not to meet my own demise

steady with caution
i tell my thoughts to go away
reconnect with senses, while the mind puts up its fences
the conflict is mine

i want to disconnect
freely fall but stand erect
with the hopes to find a peaceful side to roam
until, the siamese twin
the one i hold within
will keep beating me down until i find my home

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check

8/8/2011

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when i know a little more of you
i feel less afraid. i hate that the world is divided by clocks
and leaves some of us feeling left behind.
i'm hoping you'll catch up with me,
that you can see beauty in progression
while i'll better understand the art of patience
in this fast-paced world

i promise to talk about myself a little less
and listen to you more. give you room to talk
since i'm always talking louder. blah blah blah,
in one ear and out. i'll hold it in and contemplate it
this time. cradle the silence and let you speak
for there's no point in getting nervous
i like the sound of your voice anyway.

until then i hope you see i'm trying
not to lose my spark and get swallowed whole
by my own stupid insecurities over loving and folding
up the chair when the game is over.
there's only so much losing one can take
before it starts feeling necessary.
this time i won't be so quick to fold, i'll sit back
and wait for your next move.
i hope you like the sound of that

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death of a salesman

8/8/2011

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death of a salesman
who sold me on it, sold me on it
enough to drag me across, stretched my arms out
opened wide. there was a night we were alone
while the jazz hummed outside
and the salesman told me he was so in love with me

and the breaths we took were open wide
mouth pushed air and we screamed and we sighed
as the night was falling, the salesman held me tight
told me i was the only thing right

the thing about life, it comes and it goes
where the wind blows, sucks out our last breath
in the depths of that room i opened my legs out wide
and let the salesman steal my heart as i let go of my pride

it's strange to look into the eyes
when a lover becomes a stranger
and there is no recognition of that city with jazz
of him holding my face, us sauntering with grace
as though we owned the world one street at a time

death of a salesman
he sold me on it, sold me on it
convinced there was no need to keep searching for a sale
and the moment we both realized that the love was all gone
he packed up his things and disappeared into the air

perhaps if he looked into my eyes he'd see he wasn't there
the memory is flaccid with no strings within my stare
as he steps into another lifetime i hope he's free at last
without the need to sell anything, to lay back and relax
and if that song goes blaring on the street side down below
he'll hum a bar and smile for me, and recall that life before

rest in peace

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in the shadows of butterfly wings

8/7/2011

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i know somebody who wants to know me.
when will we ever get the chance?
those curves in the road always seems to stray us
bend us back and forth like butterfly wings.
and he's beautiful, inside and out,
at least the parts i know. i'm not afraid of his dark side.
i'm not afraid of him.

until those curves in the road sway us in the same direction
i'll continue to write so that he won't fly away in my mind.

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when home ran away

8/6/2011

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i searched for it and posted flyers along the street
hoping someone might get the point.
funny how these patterns exist
from the beginning till the end.
i waited for you to come back,
and you did for one second just to calm me down.
instant gratification amongst layers of disbelief.

i'm tired of trying to impress you.
second best no longer works.
i prefer the end to be the moment when one of us
stops breathing, like one of us
gave it our best shot, like a furry friend gives
unconditional love.
yet i keep waiting, hoping someone might call
because they found you, lost somewhere
while searching for me

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el primo de rusa

Chain

cierzo

check

death of a salesman

in the shadows of butterfly wings

when home ran away

tell me.

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