narcissistic.
Serving the poet a delicious dish
argumentative, deign to exist.
Blue and yellow progressively
scatter away vanishing.
The red paints intensity
while descending.
Offering beauty and warmth
graciously bowing to the sky.
Lessening its contrasts of light
foreboding a goodbye.
Scattering the sound of the waves through the wind
the day succumbs to the night is feet.
Enchanting all the beings of earth
escorting them into calm and peaceful sleep.
The Ritual
Consumed by the waves of time
perpetually untouchable
in the penumbra
deeply inside the rocks is cave
a fleshless corpse lies.
Where the moonlight evanesce,
where the salt water
had no room to embrace.
Fireflies welled up surprisingly
to bright this mystical place.
Every night in the same field,
where hope and dreams
were formerly forged.
They enter the cave
wearing the spirit
of a resplendent woman
performing an unusual ritual.
Shimmering energies,
portraying memories
dancing freely bare-foot
among the apple trees.
Grass stirs
breeding sounds
of joyful laughs
to fade in the first rays of dawn.
The Return
Creeping along like a worm
stuck in mud infested with alcohol
spewing out guts and dreams.
Blank eyes, pallid orbs deep in bone
appearance a tangled mess.
He is lying on the autopsy table
declared dead.
He opens his eyes:
Where the hell are my glasses?
The Real Path
My will just as my soul
have painted the patterns
of this magnificent tapestry.
My life is not delineated yet
but transfigures itself
with every step I take.
Every breath feeds
my ravenous mind
releasing a million thoughts
of unravelled mysteries.
Alluringly attracting me
extending an invisible carpet
where I could strive safely,
disconnected from earthly criteria.
A wild mind aware of the essence of life
living freely connected with nature.
A biological calling, ingenuous and pure
beyond superficial clichés
a caring brave heart tamed
with the whip of freedom.
The Pact
The prince is fire in shape
image and splendour.
A magnificent species a flamed lover
in the art of amour.
No match on earth
nor in the moon.
Both succeeded
fertilising a bloom.
Under the magic brilliance,
of the mystical moon.
A grown-up being
was born.
A womb of soil,
rocks, roots, and dust.
The white haired princess`
breathing trust.
An incomparable beauty
emerald green eyes, round.
Ruby hues in her lips
her rose skin as hard as diamond.
A successful arrangement
a pact to balance the spun.
The princess was promised
to the prince of the sun.
Autumn
Leaves fall from the trees
dry fruits hang on their barely bare branches
with
