Your lips.

Inside the bloodstained sunset
of the Caribbean's afternoon,
two burning mountains
are kissing each other...

Thus, your lips are born.

Fire over fire…
Flame against flame…
Kiss that ignites and illuminates my darkened soul.
For you I would burn myself,
until my ashes,
and even farther on…

Inside the incinerated sunset
of the tropical afternoon
two passionate mountains
hugs each other...

Thus, your lips are born.

Marry at ease.

Give me a big hug
with your arms made of flower
while we are taking a shower
and I will be your frog.

Give me a giant kiss
with your lips made of berry
while; I enjoy your being merry
and I will marry you at ease.

The best of my orgasms

Between your breasts
a sun of new daybreak arises,
dissipating my penumbrae,
uncovering clarities.

Between your legs
it buds a dream very cheerful,
cheering my shortages
clearing my smiles.

Between your arms
I am a clear water dolphin,
I am a hawk among clouds
I am noise and I am silence.

It is your happiness
the best one of my orgasms.

Sad girl.

Your face of dawn wanes
before an innocent compliment.
There is an uncertain pavement
that fades over your veins.

There is a powerful thought
spreading into your brain,
maybe it is a beat of pain
trying to reach full growth.

Drizzling from your left eye
there is a single tear,
loneliness that appear
to be a desperate cry.

If I try, if I just try,
would you destroy your sadness
embracing my little madness...
or would you just say goodby...

It's cool

Over a tuna' s skin
slides a drop of dew,
under the metallic moon
I spread my wings
toward the infinite.

It's just a mith
but it is cool.

Prayer

Oh, oh, Yahveh!
rock me into Your arms
'cause my soul is chilly
and my heart is smashed
by the ulcers of the sins.

Oh, oh, Yahveh,
wrap me up with Your hug
'cause my life is too violent
and my dismembered body
is already sick of the past.

Oh, oh, Yahveh,
give me wisdom,
hope and delight,
peace, faith, joy and the poetry
that emanates from Your Love,
please.

Into the class

This is a pencil, that is a pen.
This is a table, that is a desk.
This is my heart, that is my dream.
This is my soul, that was my scream.

That is my teacher, this is my bag,
that is my hope, that was my cry.
Here in the classroom, I'm on the sky
I'm far far away from this awful path.

This is my book, ¡that was my thought!
this is my notebook, that was my poetry,
this is my fault, that is your pain
too far already from my big mouth,
too near yet, near to my brain.

So,
let us move away
let's be really free
riding a splendid horse over cottoned clouds,
let's escape from sadness
by travelling through hope
just you and me, only you and me;
over the other side of the moon.

Because home is just that place
where your heart wishes to be.

A coming back

Once upon a time
there was a very happy face
above the sea waves.

Now, there is sadness
and there' s a tiny desire
of a coming back.