Daddy's lullaby

domingo, 28 de septiembre de 2014

Never Try To Trick Me With A Kiss

Never try to trick me with a kiss

Pretending that the birds are here to stay;

The dying man will scoff and scorn at this.

A stone can masquerade where no heart is

And virgins rise where lustful Venus lay:

Never try to trick me with a kiss.

Our noble doctor claims the pain is his,

While stricken patients let him have his say;

The dying man will scoff and scorn at this.

Each virile bachelor dreads paralysis,

The old maid in the gable cries all day:

Never try to trick me with a kiss.

The suave eternal serpents promise bliss

To mortal children longing to be gay;

The dying man will scoff and scorn at this.

Sooner or later something goes amiss;

The singing birds pack up and fly away;

So never try to trick me with a kiss:

The dying man will scoff and scorn at this.

(Sylvia Plath.)

domingo, 14 de septiembre de 2014

LOST IN TRANSLATION, PART II

VII. THE MOON CAN DROWN IN A GLASS OF WATER
The ocean can tell how long Moon knows keep breath under the water
All night long - would have answered the blue giant thinking about his reflection on the water.

Not every twin have to suffer the same diseases,
not every blowjob feels like the wind against neck

Take a deep breath,
I'm going to bed into you
Don't choke us yet!

VIII. CLOUDY MOON
When I'm resting on your lap
the heartbeat is a song on repeat.
A procession of bad things walk in mode suflle
through my mind over and over again

the freckles of my face smile your tickles,
hearts of other people travel across our sexs, we are line.

The moon is partly cloudy
or,
is it me just a little high?

IX. TODAY THERE ARE MORE LIGHT AT THE NIGHT.
KNOW THINGS BY HEART IS NOT A GOOD WAY TO KNOW THINGS

X.STORM
Alarm program is going to threaten ourself at 9:45 AM
Only a blanket is able to wrap us until 10 o'clock in the morning,
at least Cinderella had a shoe as an excuse.

Run.
Stop running.

You can smell his breath
but, remember,
it is not allowed to be his lung.

XI. NIGHT CLOSED
There are stories whose aren't a kids stories
even if sound like lullabies.
One of those is Schrödinger's cat

The night is as much shut as the box
where the creature hadn't been poisoned,
however, the cat had already dead scared to death.

scared to stop
scared to be free

XII.MY MORNING IS YOUR NIGHT
The anxiety returns when I wait.

Anxiety happens while I try to find 7 differences
between sunrise and sunset

Look, a warm smile in my face,
one little girl's smile with sweet popcorns between her teeth.
Grin that answers - I'm your home' - when he whispers - 'Tú casa está aquí'.-

(Cerca de no terminar de corregir el texto esbozado en el aire
Cerca de no poder acabarlo y dejarlo, lejos de estar abandonado, en el aire.
Cerca de rezarlo y llenarlo de necesidades. Al aire.
BESO)

jueves, 28 de agosto de 2014

LOST IN TRANSLATION, PART I

I. FIRST MOON OF ALL
Mouths introduce, insinuate and talk about who we're
even in other languages, even in silent.

My mouth doesn't need dictionary,
my mouth doesn't respond to my name when you're in front of me.

Mirror, mirror on the wall, your smile is mine too.
The well-know 'I do' shouldn't exist before than the fucking 'Nice to meet you'

II. THE MOON IS STARVING
Who say to us that full moon is not an empty one?
Who told us that shooting stars make our dreams come true?

We name full-something someone that hasn't eaten anything ever.
We make wishes to stars which have already gone.

We're stupid so we can't tell if a fullest moon is not
a collection of lovely starving stars.

III. WHOLE MOON EVER
If the moon shine so hard
how can I lose the way home, Dorothy? How?

Who can see these pieces of bread in the sky, Hansel?
What can I do if I don't judge myself?

The deed to be alive is uncomfortably easy.
-HERE- the moon is my boyfriend hiding mostly all my sky limits.

IV. THE MOON HAS HANGOVER TOO
A glass of wine in my hand is bleeding
three beers into my bladder are playing with our balance,
a tear of whisky has born in my cheek
and there are some remains of salt and lemon between my lips. Stinging and healing.

to be mutual, being one, being two
to be or not to be, to have or not to have

A hangover is often a thirsty head ,
to be honest, I'm a worst headache for my dad.

V. WANNING GIBBOUS
Sex is red, like
the Red Light District in Amsterdam, like
a slap in her ass, like
white turns into red in our eyes when we were wildly excited,

However, the gas station lights are right:
with sexual things, I can speak any tongue.

VI. TURN DOWN THE MOON
Sometimes sleep isn't a waste of time.
Sometimes you're aware
and the cure of anxiety comes.

New Orleans is in ruins
although they would try to build and rebuild every building, erection, place, trauma:
The past has became past. Eat me up, cause I have expiration date.

Sometimes dark circles go unnoticed because teeth are bigger,
with eyes wide open I fell asleep and I could feel it.