You say you are;
you say you was,
to you, you said it
throwing down your hands;
you say you are,
just you said it
as your hands fell.
You’re wrong, you’re right.
Down to your raw notes,
down to you, you say you are.
Around you, you saw you;
you saw your notes fell.
All alright here,
down to you, you say you are;
you say you was.
To you, your hands fell
throwing down your notes.
And you say: “I am”;
and you say: “I was”.
You saw us, I was your love.
You saw your face
undoing your songs.
To you, you saw me to know
all I do to you.
You saw you throwing down your hands.
martes, 27 de abril de 2010
sábado, 24 de abril de 2010
We are one ( When we tried to conquer, pt2)
Did we know that our end was here among our feet?
Did we ever know how is going this to keep the sun shinning?
Will my dreams someday come truth?
These rings around the NASA base tried
to resolve its questions, but the crimes
are made and the done things can’t be
returned to the hands of the father time.
Is this what it needs to break the chains?
Who told me to draw the love I have for her
in the infinite amount of stars? Obviously nobody.
I love to take your hand and feel that we are one.
The UV rays hit our skin and we burn to dead.
The photosynthesis process isn’t enough to breath today;
when the eyes of the moon finally been closed and
those horizons came to us,
that day the new life brings us the new kind of
animals and to prove our honor, the invisible gods
will tell us how to keep our specie alive for years.
Will you embrace my arms and whisper me the message
that I left to you in the firmament to write the end of the book?
Oh, Am I something wild to train?
Am I like a diplodocus reaching my head to the winds to feel that I’m free?
I loved how you told me that now we are evolving into people that
can be lovers for all the millenniums that left to the earth to finish its existence.
Did we ever know how is going this to keep the sun shinning?
Will my dreams someday come truth?
These rings around the NASA base tried
to resolve its questions, but the crimes
are made and the done things can’t be
returned to the hands of the father time.
Is this what it needs to break the chains?
Who told me to draw the love I have for her
in the infinite amount of stars? Obviously nobody.
I love to take your hand and feel that we are one.
The UV rays hit our skin and we burn to dead.
The photosynthesis process isn’t enough to breath today;
when the eyes of the moon finally been closed and
those horizons came to us,
that day the new life brings us the new kind of
animals and to prove our honor, the invisible gods
will tell us how to keep our specie alive for years.
Will you embrace my arms and whisper me the message
that I left to you in the firmament to write the end of the book?
Oh, Am I something wild to train?
Am I like a diplodocus reaching my head to the winds to feel that I’m free?
I loved how you told me that now we are evolving into people that
can be lovers for all the millenniums that left to the earth to finish its existence.
Emily's house
Everywhere I see, your name is written on my hands.
Will I ever have a little chance of looking to your
face without this feeling of retracting my eyes of vision?
Son, you know how the rainbows that I through away
are the beginning of the plastic memories painted in your main.
Emily was sitting in the rocking chair just waiting
for its love and sometimes she whispered him name
to the silent of the room with a hope of taking back an answer.
Outside the house the trees grew as high as mountains
and the snowflakes we made of stars fallen to the older
piece of wood of her house where she’s now breathing completely alone.
I’m looking for attention; I’m looking for her attention.
How can I love her without as knowing if she loves me too?
The sun once was warm but now it only burns itself, he forgot us.
The name that I can’t hear without feeling a strange sense inside me
doesn’t compare to the beats that I can feel in my ribs when I know
she’s alone with that locked door keeping her hands cold and quiet.
Everywhere I see, I feel your hair shaking with your shoulders.
The smallest sound remembers me your voice
and even the sky looks dark when there isn’t a cloud
behind your head.
Outside the house the trees grew as high as mountains
and the snowflakes we made of stars fallen to the older
piece of wood of her house where she’s now breathing completely alone.
And the snowflakes were made of a cold condensation around
the spikes of the windows and the frame of the door with your name
in the top.
I want the key.
Will I ever have a little chance of looking to your
face without this feeling of retracting my eyes of vision?
Son, you know how the rainbows that I through away
are the beginning of the plastic memories painted in your main.
Emily was sitting in the rocking chair just waiting
for its love and sometimes she whispered him name
to the silent of the room with a hope of taking back an answer.
Outside the house the trees grew as high as mountains
and the snowflakes we made of stars fallen to the older
piece of wood of her house where she’s now breathing completely alone.
I’m looking for attention; I’m looking for her attention.
How can I love her without as knowing if she loves me too?
The sun once was warm but now it only burns itself, he forgot us.
The name that I can’t hear without feeling a strange sense inside me
doesn’t compare to the beats that I can feel in my ribs when I know
she’s alone with that locked door keeping her hands cold and quiet.
Everywhere I see, I feel your hair shaking with your shoulders.
The smallest sound remembers me your voice
and even the sky looks dark when there isn’t a cloud
behind your head.
Outside the house the trees grew as high as mountains
and the snowflakes we made of stars fallen to the older
piece of wood of her house where she’s now breathing completely alone.
And the snowflakes were made of a cold condensation around
the spikes of the windows and the frame of the door with your name
in the top.
I want the key.
viernes, 23 de abril de 2010
Nos amamos todos de verdad
Es hora de hacer hora y aguantar para estar bien,
es tiempo de relajarse y conducir los ojos al revés,
una oportunidad para retraer las uñas y aplaudir;
es hora de hacer hora, de las llaves esconder.
La canción asemeja una lluvia de juegos mentales
y embellece la indiferencia por sobre la diferencia.
Amplificando los muros dentro de las cascadas
de colores que regamos con estupor en nuestras
manos ya tan sucias y a la vez tan limpias como para
alimentarnos de ellas oyendo el xilófono solo tocarse.
Como pingüinos nadando grácil y ágilmente navegamos
en las fauces de nuestra propia desdichada imaginación,
conquistando mares y tierras que nadie esperaba si quiera
conocer.
Ondas transversales pasan por mi pecho
y me mata conocer mi pasado como si fuera el de alguien más.
Entro al agua y me desgloso en mis componentes
materiales y espirituales en la densidad de los grandes mares,
hoy fue un día para conversar sobre lo no conversable,
para cantar lo no dicho,
para escribir lo no cantado
y para abrazar a quienes queremos cantar y con quienes
queremos conversar.
Una audiencia rodea el establecimiento donde
los traga luces se difractan en imágenes incomprensibles;
tanto así es el lucero que la aurora provoca en las pupilas,
tanto es el resplandor que cubre las sillas y las pinturas
y la ambientación y decoración minimalistas;
pereciera por un momento Dios existir dentro de la Iglesia.
Subjetivamente hablamos de melodías y características
a las cuales buscamos con fervor y con temor;
hacemos oídos sordos a las cosas que nos hacen daño, pues,
está bien. Del dolor se genera el odio y la oscuridad daña
los sentimientos.
Tocar instrumentos musicales en la soledad de la compañía
podría hacer menos difícil acoger la lluvia y amar al sol,
podría crear lágrimas doradas y corazones menos ásperos;
podría hacernos crecer en la teoría de la evolución para nosotros
volver a besar armónicamente a la cumbre de los Alpes.
Casi como si fuera una mentira recogemos semillas
y plantamos cositas sin saber si estas nacerán y volar
puedan hasta las brisas y las frecuencias a las cuales
los ángeles anhelan llegar.
Vamos, vamos, hay que pensar en la ausencia
y en la amistad.
Vamos, vamos, vamos a correr en las mallas
que a los peces quieren matar.
Vamos, vamos, vamos a cambiar los ojos
por el tacto y la verdad.
Vamos todos a apreciar como las manos unidas
llegan estas a mirarnos como nos amamos todos de verdad.
es tiempo de relajarse y conducir los ojos al revés,
una oportunidad para retraer las uñas y aplaudir;
es hora de hacer hora, de las llaves esconder.
La canción asemeja una lluvia de juegos mentales
y embellece la indiferencia por sobre la diferencia.
Amplificando los muros dentro de las cascadas
de colores que regamos con estupor en nuestras
manos ya tan sucias y a la vez tan limpias como para
alimentarnos de ellas oyendo el xilófono solo tocarse.
Como pingüinos nadando grácil y ágilmente navegamos
en las fauces de nuestra propia desdichada imaginación,
conquistando mares y tierras que nadie esperaba si quiera
conocer.
Ondas transversales pasan por mi pecho
y me mata conocer mi pasado como si fuera el de alguien más.
Entro al agua y me desgloso en mis componentes
materiales y espirituales en la densidad de los grandes mares,
hoy fue un día para conversar sobre lo no conversable,
para cantar lo no dicho,
para escribir lo no cantado
y para abrazar a quienes queremos cantar y con quienes
queremos conversar.
Una audiencia rodea el establecimiento donde
los traga luces se difractan en imágenes incomprensibles;
tanto así es el lucero que la aurora provoca en las pupilas,
tanto es el resplandor que cubre las sillas y las pinturas
y la ambientación y decoración minimalistas;
pereciera por un momento Dios existir dentro de la Iglesia.
Subjetivamente hablamos de melodías y características
a las cuales buscamos con fervor y con temor;
hacemos oídos sordos a las cosas que nos hacen daño, pues,
está bien. Del dolor se genera el odio y la oscuridad daña
los sentimientos.
Tocar instrumentos musicales en la soledad de la compañía
podría hacer menos difícil acoger la lluvia y amar al sol,
podría crear lágrimas doradas y corazones menos ásperos;
podría hacernos crecer en la teoría de la evolución para nosotros
volver a besar armónicamente a la cumbre de los Alpes.
Casi como si fuera una mentira recogemos semillas
y plantamos cositas sin saber si estas nacerán y volar
puedan hasta las brisas y las frecuencias a las cuales
los ángeles anhelan llegar.
Vamos, vamos, hay que pensar en la ausencia
y en la amistad.
Vamos, vamos, vamos a correr en las mallas
que a los peces quieren matar.
Vamos, vamos, vamos a cambiar los ojos
por el tacto y la verdad.
Vamos todos a apreciar como las manos unidas
llegan estas a mirarnos como nos amamos todos de verdad.
Look to the snow and you will watch the love that I have for you.
I’m just taking my life with something to don’t make errors;
walking in the water, I’m cold outside;
I’m warm inside, I’m broken outside;
I’m melted inside; I’m a dream inside.
The atlas looks worm and it’s older than me,
the earth was changed and the sun turns brighter now.
This atlas is useless because it has probably
ages of its creation, but my life instead doesn’t start.
I hear snowflakes through the sheets;
I heard how the squirrels hide their acorn.
Won’t you be mine? Won’t I be yours?
As these broken nails reflect our faces,
we sing out of loud to make echoes in the world.
Maybe a weekend will not be perfect but I will try it
to just don’t think about how the sky and the stars
make figures taking your heart as a design.
Every step and every moment hits our lungs;
We breath today but that’s only for a while, a while through
the time lapsed from our born to the ephemeral end.
The bellows are poor and can’t make music,
so let’s try to find how to speak our feelings without sounds,
without our mouth, without our limbs, without our life.
Just looking for it in the beautiful places that we don’t see yet.
Those places hidden from us to protect the mother earth
from the hands of the evil men, evil men killing us and she.
Will we kiss now?
Just answer me this little question, will we kiss now?
As every hour passing by, I can’t forget you, you and your words.
This is so hard just to keep my head cleaning and changing the air,
this is so hard to take you and put you in a boat of my senses.
Won’t you be mine or won’t I be yours?
I don’t know how to answer a question started from an answer;
that answer that I don’t heard from your mouth, only from your face.
Look to the snow and you will watch the love that I have for you.
walking in the water, I’m cold outside;
I’m warm inside, I’m broken outside;
I’m melted inside; I’m a dream inside.
The atlas looks worm and it’s older than me,
the earth was changed and the sun turns brighter now.
This atlas is useless because it has probably
ages of its creation, but my life instead doesn’t start.
I hear snowflakes through the sheets;
I heard how the squirrels hide their acorn.
Won’t you be mine? Won’t I be yours?
As these broken nails reflect our faces,
we sing out of loud to make echoes in the world.
Maybe a weekend will not be perfect but I will try it
to just don’t think about how the sky and the stars
make figures taking your heart as a design.
Every step and every moment hits our lungs;
We breath today but that’s only for a while, a while through
the time lapsed from our born to the ephemeral end.
The bellows are poor and can’t make music,
so let’s try to find how to speak our feelings without sounds,
without our mouth, without our limbs, without our life.
Just looking for it in the beautiful places that we don’t see yet.
Those places hidden from us to protect the mother earth
from the hands of the evil men, evil men killing us and she.
Will we kiss now?
Just answer me this little question, will we kiss now?
As every hour passing by, I can’t forget you, you and your words.
This is so hard just to keep my head cleaning and changing the air,
this is so hard to take you and put you in a boat of my senses.
Won’t you be mine or won’t I be yours?
I don’t know how to answer a question started from an answer;
that answer that I don’t heard from your mouth, only from your face.
Look to the snow and you will watch the love that I have for you.
jueves, 22 de abril de 2010
Will someone close my eyes before my dead?
On their heads;
they will die;
on their heads
it’s the red point
to shoot them.
Just to shoot them.
This day wasn’t like
others and it won’t
be like some day
on the uncertainly
future that’s behind us.
Tell to your brain:
I will not wait here for
If someday
you will think that my face is enough to dribble.
Until the shadow comes you won’t
try to keep your life alive to breath,
will you think that my face is enough to dribble?
This time my life will stop its breath;
your words used to kill me;
and now my body is discomposing
Tell to your brain
that I will not stay here
just to see how you slap my cheek.
If someday you will think that
my face is enough to dribble
then I will take a photograph
of the ground in your legs
and the blood on your wrists.
Through this morning
I was thinking of the way I need
to pull out your heart
and make it mine,
and make it mine, only mine.
I like to dream about your face;
I like to spit my spittle out of my mouth
and make dry my body to tell
everyone how feels it.
This day wasn’t like
others and it won’t
be like some day
on the uncertainly
future that’s behind us.
Your pictures on my head are destroying me,
so come here and stop this dirty nightmare.
Your pictures on my head are destroying me,
so come here and stop this dirty nightmare.
Your pictures on my head are destroying me,
so let’s wash the skin impregnated of your lips.
they will die;
on their heads
it’s the red point
to shoot them.
Just to shoot them.
This day wasn’t like
others and it won’t
be like some day
on the uncertainly
future that’s behind us.
Tell to your brain:
I will not wait here for
If someday
you will think that my face is enough to dribble.
Until the shadow comes you won’t
try to keep your life alive to breath,
will you think that my face is enough to dribble?
This time my life will stop its breath;
your words used to kill me;
and now my body is discomposing
Tell to your brain
that I will not stay here
just to see how you slap my cheek.
If someday you will think that
my face is enough to dribble
then I will take a photograph
of the ground in your legs
and the blood on your wrists.
Through this morning
I was thinking of the way I need
to pull out your heart
and make it mine,
and make it mine, only mine.
I like to dream about your face;
I like to spit my spittle out of my mouth
and make dry my body to tell
everyone how feels it.
This day wasn’t like
others and it won’t
be like some day
on the uncertainly
future that’s behind us.
Your pictures on my head are destroying me,
so come here and stop this dirty nightmare.
Your pictures on my head are destroying me,
so come here and stop this dirty nightmare.
Your pictures on my head are destroying me,
so let’s wash the skin impregnated of your lips.
Despacio sobre la arena
Limpia tus orejas y oirás los bosques llamando tu nombre desde lo profundo de sus corazones.
Siente la brisa arrulladora que se desenvuelve desde los océanos y cierra tus ojos para sentirla.
Guarda el eco de las montañas en tu boca y saborea el color transparente del aire puro.
Dibuja las praderas verdes en tus pensamientos donde siempre queden grabados y salvaguardados. Aprecia tu visión.
Siente la brisa arrulladora que se desenvuelve desde los océanos y cierra tus ojos para sentirla.
Guarda el eco de las montañas en tu boca y saborea el color transparente del aire puro.
Dibuja las praderas verdes en tus pensamientos donde siempre queden grabados y salvaguardados. Aprecia tu visión.
La doceava parte de un minuto, ¿no es así?
Vas realmente a caminar en lugar de mi calor;
el frío se congela y queda atrapado en el pasado.
¿Vas tú, vas tú a reaccionar cuando las luces se enciendan?
Y este sonido inmaterial se llama sensación,
no importa lo oscuro que sea la resolución,
siempre hay más que ver fuera de los marcos de la visión.
Un segundo, dos palabras fueron dirigidas;
dos segundos, entonadas, verdades estas son;
tres segundos, hasta que a sentir yo aprenda;
cuatro segundos, pasearemos a ojos cerrados;
cinco segundos, perdimos nuestras ideas e improvisamos al final.
Nadie se enterará si no debe ser así.
¿Realmente será suficiente de lo que los sentimientos están hechos?
No hay nadie cerca, nadie a quién mirar.
¿Realmente será suficiente de lo que los sentimientos están hechos?
Porque perfecto soy llenándome la mente contigo.
¿Realmente será suficiente de lo que los sentimientos están hechos?
De amor tu identificación es, pues, sinónimo.
el frío se congela y queda atrapado en el pasado.
¿Vas tú, vas tú a reaccionar cuando las luces se enciendan?
Y este sonido inmaterial se llama sensación,
no importa lo oscuro que sea la resolución,
siempre hay más que ver fuera de los marcos de la visión.
Un segundo, dos palabras fueron dirigidas;
dos segundos, entonadas, verdades estas son;
tres segundos, hasta que a sentir yo aprenda;
cuatro segundos, pasearemos a ojos cerrados;
cinco segundos, perdimos nuestras ideas e improvisamos al final.
Nadie se enterará si no debe ser así.
¿Realmente será suficiente de lo que los sentimientos están hechos?
No hay nadie cerca, nadie a quién mirar.
¿Realmente será suficiente de lo que los sentimientos están hechos?
Porque perfecto soy llenándome la mente contigo.
¿Realmente será suficiente de lo que los sentimientos están hechos?
De amor tu identificación es, pues, sinónimo.
miércoles, 21 de abril de 2010
When we tried to conquer
I'd to love all this flavours
but this taste won't smell like anything
and even the stars won't shine now
because of my regrets and imperfections.
Will you walk now?
or will I stand up with you?
nobody knows, don't they?
who is calling you by your name?
what does this whisper is telling to my little ears?
I can't understand how the skies want
me to tell her to take we away in days
like these to run out of luck and
just forget all the world.
Will you give us the light that
we need to see the only important feeling
inside of all of our hearts?
Come on and kiss us;
come on,
come on and shine
for us now;
come on,
come on and die for our sins.
Die for our life.
download the things you want to say
before the things you never ever said to me.
This pages that we cannot read are laughing
and keep their chances to change in the past
and the future is blurring in our preserved life.
Look to the fall, there's nothing to say that
we have the victory. The stars see our heads.
For the life that someone lost
or the tropies without an owner,
this is something that needs to solve itself.
For the suns awakened in the space and time
or the living deads walking around my house,
this needs to break the time and run away
from us. From us.
We love to say that everything is ours,
but in the end we have nothing to live.
Just come on,
come on and let we die;
let we die.
Let they scream
and come on.
Will you see us?
will you love us?
will we love you?
will you forgive us?
All the trees and the nights,
all the "I don't think so"
and the big planets among us.
All the memories of changes of the past,
all the speakers and later dancers
tried their best to make the eyes
open and absorb the minerals and the nutrients
and give to the hollow hearts the contain
that they needed to beat.
but this taste won't smell like anything
and even the stars won't shine now
because of my regrets and imperfections.
Will you walk now?
or will I stand up with you?
nobody knows, don't they?
who is calling you by your name?
what does this whisper is telling to my little ears?
I can't understand how the skies want
me to tell her to take we away in days
like these to run out of luck and
just forget all the world.
Will you give us the light that
we need to see the only important feeling
inside of all of our hearts?
Come on and kiss us;
come on,
come on and shine
for us now;
come on,
come on and die for our sins.
Die for our life.
download the things you want to say
before the things you never ever said to me.
This pages that we cannot read are laughing
and keep their chances to change in the past
and the future is blurring in our preserved life.
Look to the fall, there's nothing to say that
we have the victory. The stars see our heads.
For the life that someone lost
or the tropies without an owner,
this is something that needs to solve itself.
For the suns awakened in the space and time
or the living deads walking around my house,
this needs to break the time and run away
from us. From us.
We love to say that everything is ours,
but in the end we have nothing to live.
Just come on,
come on and let we die;
let we die.
Let they scream
and come on.
Will you see us?
will you love us?
will we love you?
will you forgive us?
All the trees and the nights,
all the "I don't think so"
and the big planets among us.
All the memories of changes of the past,
all the speakers and later dancers
tried their best to make the eyes
open and absorb the minerals and the nutrients
and give to the hollow hearts the contain
that they needed to beat.
domingo, 18 de abril de 2010
Cuando la cajonera recuerdos trajo, consigo, la brisa los aullentó.
El anuncio de la noche por despertar
encamina nuestros rumbos a desembocarse
en donde el semáforo blanco es su brillo
y nuestros ojos se manosean sin hablar.
Una vez solo el viento es más helado
que en el pasado y crecerá su abrazo.
Sutilmente mis pies se quiebran y los pasos pesados más colosales son con cada metro que me alejo. Quizá el parque donde jugamos derrumbado por nuestra ausencia está.
El sube y baja sus alas rechazaron. El castillo en el arenero se acalambró.
Falta el arrullo con el cual los soldaditos de plástico lloraron la muerte del día anterior.
Es diferente como se sienten las estaciones ahora y sin mapa mi camino crucificado en círculos sin fin toca una melodía tan hermosa… no quiero huir de esta oscuridad.
Una vez el viento se repartió en mi entorno
y suavemente sentí el amor al cual me sentí entregado.
encamina nuestros rumbos a desembocarse
en donde el semáforo blanco es su brillo
y nuestros ojos se manosean sin hablar.
Una vez solo el viento es más helado
que en el pasado y crecerá su abrazo.
Sutilmente mis pies se quiebran y los pasos pesados más colosales son con cada metro que me alejo. Quizá el parque donde jugamos derrumbado por nuestra ausencia está.
El sube y baja sus alas rechazaron. El castillo en el arenero se acalambró.
Falta el arrullo con el cual los soldaditos de plástico lloraron la muerte del día anterior.
Es diferente como se sienten las estaciones ahora y sin mapa mi camino crucificado en círculos sin fin toca una melodía tan hermosa… no quiero huir de esta oscuridad.
Una vez el viento se repartió en mi entorno
y suavemente sentí el amor al cual me sentí entregado.
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