July 23 2 008
Worries
In that place, where everything is so insipid and insubstantial,
it was you who were silent, gone, foreign to everything, you were.
Killing hardened displeasures, olvidos ungrateful,, simple if.
Vile unknown, without explicit, living and tenacious arrogance, soft, subdued charisma,
sweet of entertaining, easy of tough and sad life.
Obstinacy, blind, frugal, quiet, restrained of facts clear.
Rained fortune of tenuous stars and certainty,
with color that only the worrying sweet will name.
Phrases touched and faced in distant languages,
before the indifference of your excessive soul.
Meeting of oblique and silent writing,
that the tedium deals with living through it again without break.
Remain in your space, live in velvet, live through it,
always expectant before upset situations.
Silence of emotions and deep stubbornnesses that they mark,
without allowing to conquer the illusion found between penumbras.
To touch the sky, is to move the foundations of your being.
it finds the injustice of the opaqueness of the destination.
It opens fences of openwork, which the time will adorn
something nearby to the meeting of two souls.
That difficult is to comment on a post in poetical key, believe to me, very difficult, that's why I will not comment on it that I will only try to understand and share what your senses have led you to expressing what you demonstrate us in your written words.
Of everything, I share this …
To touch the sky, is to move the foundations of your being.
To wallow in crystalline water full of aromas of bravery,
to find the injustice of the opaqueness of the destination.
It opens fences of openwork, which the time will adorn
of brilliant and happy lights, and the infinite will be
something nearby to the meeting of two souls.
…///…
a hug epsilo.
It proves to me dificill to make a comment to you ….pero, thanks to your worries you uncover yourself … besitos epsi.
Inkietudes is the threads k they move us
it keeps us living and expectant
I have many and hope to have the opportunity
them of always keeping on having.
From my happiest rinconcito I send a kiss to you.
Good … of poet I have what of priest, zero patatero. Alone attempt to write a few worries metaphorically, enrevesarlas everything what could, but not for it, stop expressing them. Jejejejeje, also it is necessary to keep cochairs. Jejejejeje, también hay que guardarse cosillas.
Besitos, Maica, Mess. Confu I do not give you ugly kiss.