Monthly Archives: March 2016

There are no Dreams


There are no dreams
Or dreamers

The moon is a carillon
Of my voice which is
Made of every voice
Earth is a chipped glass
In rain’s dishwasher

Since you are everything
I am nothing
I am forged from you
You who arrived from nobody
And lived in everybody

In the depths of your life
Everybody knocked

The Earth

In Me Your Destiny


You were a clutch of eyes amidst my blind heart
my love wrestling with the anchored hours
departing the land of childhood
i was born in laughter’s river
severed among starry garlands
my love grows thirsty, without any bottle
to encapsulate the moon and feed rustic echoes,
Our mouths are hungry to no avail and veiled
in my misery, flowering into kisses for nobody
you are like nothing since i created you
not of scald or metals but rather aromas,
i am nothing because you are everything
the moonshine, the sunshine
mother of pearl, pearl of mother
mother, daughter, sister
gardener of frost
queen of voices
nothing, everything
i, you, the world, my emptiness filling you
street sweeper of dreams
ruler of miracles,
My heart
showing you the way to
the archipelago of nostalgia
originating in the sea of people,
the battlefield of kisses
where ringed hands
Bring silenced mouths
to drunken, daffodil morgues,
the world laughing, you are weeping
The world weeping, you are laughing
The world surviving, you are dreaming
To survive inside a dream,
My dream of you,
My winged eyes
penetrating your flower
from the sunken
Isle of my lips
every hour, day, dream, destiny

Butterflies of Dreams of Butterflies


Snowfall, dewfall, nightfall
you are the flower that rises,
rises, from the isle of my sunken lips,
Wounded by a wandering dream,
Adrift in the glint
Of my grey, wet eyes
As if moths seamed to the thread
of your rose undressing
beneath the land of spring
adrift in a haze and abandoned slowly, suddenly
Somewhere between my silhouette
and your mouth something goes wailing
Of the childhood road peopled
with flowering kisses
And rustic echoes
I owned every star but your eyes
The universe is yours, but my heart is ours
And we are two moths
Braying, bankrupt of dreams
In the net of autumn,
A fall solitary
as if a stray dog
on inhospitable tongues
guided by the butterfly of your name:
Mariposa and its little wings
of laughter

In You the Change


Underneath your feet
The road’s dynamo
Of white butterflies
Electrocuting bleak isles
Where women of the sea
Treaded on velvet, machetes
Here, my people
Emerged from a poppy
Wingless yet in flight
There, a shadowy mountain
As if the star’s saddle
Beneath the winepress night
Grinding their moon into quartz
Here, my eyes’ net
Of maritime days and
A dove asleep
As if the earth at twilight
That adores
Our little bees
Seeping, seizing, sieging:
From the honeyed pubis
Beyond, nights
Go on drowning each other
And the sky is
Overburdened with dreams
On your lips a crane dies
The paper crane is born in my palm
Here, winter climaxing on spring
And stars chasing
One another for crystal-laughter

Shipwrecked Shadow


We are all made of rain

Shadows under the guise

Of humans

Selling voices

In destiny’s marketplace

Buying ourselves from



About shipwrecks

Rotation, Revelation


Earth spins

The tin moon