I see the morning awaking

June 30, 2012 § Leave a comment

I see the morning awaking

Its lights blues in my face

Was I close to faint

My eyes I scratch as I become sane.


A stout man

Full of dreams

I had born in me.


Although I lay

in my berth

Hundred times in days

But I come,

O, I come,

Undone as the morning goes.


I live the black

I snooze in gray

I awake in blue

I die in noon.


I see the morning awaking

But it is time

I’d rather sleep, tired.


I see the morning awaking

I wonder why

I look so deep in the sky.


Thinking thigh

Clinching mine

I see the morning awaking

deep upwards in sky.

– Key.


Wind up (unfinished)

June 21, 2012 § Leave a comment

So we wind up

we crash the bones inside

we turn all hides

and we go


So we wind up

let fists come by

and lose its mind

but we won’t


The plains are calm

the woods are down

and the blame is yours




never-standing words

June 20, 2012 § Leave a comment

meet me on the street

and we walk on our own

to let our reaches keep

and heat the words on my lungs


slowly breathe

pace your rhythm into mine’s

the lawn is calm tonight

and it seems to be a while


your step is far

I hear you’ve been lacking

what you’ve got alone


my knowledge is in coma

and my optimism is in trash

but you look to me as if I cared


summers long gone

took what’s worth of me along

(but) I waved bye with no tear in eye


sometimes I think it snaps to me

in a shrouded train

hitting the back of my mind


quickly I answer bitter

and I recall the refusal aliened

the proud is tall enough

so you won’t collect its fruits

you won’t reach it at all


your tongue is sour

but your soul is loomed

and there is room

for you to be full.

– Key

The Line

June 18, 2012 § Leave a comment

They line up straight

waiting to be fired

a beautiful line

figuratively dead

as it is physically alive;


They breath slow

and not in excess

as they feel it is waste

to feed ones already dead.


The pits are dug

with no funeral

they are dropped dead

in the long infinity of black.


Their ceremony is the line

formed by statues

with no features contrasted

with no guilty surpassed.



A moment of silent echoes every direction

the line is silent…


One of them smiles

he says to himself:

Over time, I’ve drugged my life

the weight I’ve put in my shoulders

should be long dispatched at last.


I’ll be long gone

But I’ll be fulfilled

As I make sure

I’ll harm no more.


Please grave me in dirt

with a light stone over my head

write that I meant no harm

write I had been born for that.


I do not know where I am headed

or even if I am headed somewhere

It will be like life

As you ever said

I will take care.


For what else his mind thougth

I am afraid I cannot put in words.


His way to come

the smell of powder

he is long gone

buried with the stone.


For every single soul

there is determined cleanse

there is unconditional weightlessly

there is true freedom

even if for a single second.


For the man I describe

his cleanse he had found

or he thought he had

and no smile is useful as a mask

when you finally regret time;

But he is one of much in the line.

(xx/xx/2010) – Key

Clacks of the clock

June 18, 2012 § Leave a comment

Clock ticking

weather’s dry

my hands are too;

I grow impatient

I acknowledge you.


The hiker’s fall

the linen’s burnt

you are so loud

but you make no sound.


Foreign chords mists

I’d pretend to seek

As clock ticks

my head spins.


Soul is cleanse

mind is clear

rain’s below

but something’s wrong.


Piece of paper

disguise as flake of snow

makes us wonder

as if we’re one.


I was deciphered

and unraveled

you are clear now

to knock in the door.


Clocks still ticks

pointers rest at thee

I lend you my hand

on thy way up to where you want to be.

( xx/xx/2010) – Key


June 17, 2012 § Leave a comment

Emptiness shallowed hitherto

as waves – growth deep

I’m hollow for the single inch

clueless of where to hit.


Eyelids still closed but I see

Although I ever knew I was wrong

lack of lights…

I bore this illusion a hundred times

and stoke me with boredom

and uncertainty.


I write like this

small words in small pins

I shan’t compose more words

I am afraid of what might be.


It is wiser to compress thyself

Sometimes to not even know why

but to put in words

sometimes it is painful inside.


This emptiness slowly kills me

timing perfectly my forehead

breathing carefully throughout its hands

shook me all over again.


Emptiness as air

emptiness is death

as light is out

I’d tell you at dawn.


Where Am I?

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