Seven

Eight times I thought about it,
But I never did it.
Even when I dreamt to touch it,
I couldn’t reach it.

The first time I was a kid,
To tell my parents; it was a need,
I cried for a thousand seeds,
that some day I wouldn’t see.

Later on it was my lovely friend,
A coward bomb made us believe in hell,
After that nightmare my life changed,
Twelve years later, still so empty that jail…

Here it comes, the King of Happiness,
Best bottle, regular underwear, enjoying the casualness.
One advice: the coffin has no pockets; more is less.
Wonderful smile; devouring tumor; eternal kindness.

Three more times because things are great.
Those big nights I’ll never forget.
For my new life I couldn’t wait.
So the metamorphosis found me awake.

The Seventh Avenue is one block away.
Could be at any moment, destiny, accident or mistake.
Probably there is much more over there,
But I prefer to enjoy now, just in case.

Eight times I thought about it,
The last time: tonight while writing.
Its own existence makes possible to love this.
Next time will be while flying, or walking or running.

Empty Mirror

I can’t find you in your home
because you have no home anymore.
I can’t look at you through your mirror
because you have no mirror, no more…

I tried to dream about you
and I touched your dry and smooth skin.
But the nightmare flooded you
and your family. What is your sin?

The news and the Exodus bore my heart
and my own water also floods my home,
I can’t be there or here, I’m falling apart.
I have no direction, I just can roam.

Teddy bears, promises, regrets, food or money:
Nothing is enough.
I need you, I’m egoist… sorry.
I just want your laugh.

Alone I feel I’m nobody,
so I go for you with my boat.
I feel the death, I’m petrified.
I want to have hope, but even she is horrified.

I can’t find you in your home
because you have no home anymore.
I can’t look at you through your mirror
because you have no mirror, no more…

The only mirror is mine.
Its surface always shines.
But when I stand in front of it,
I can’t see your face, I can’t see mine.


Dedicated to all Katrina's victims. We can lose everything except our hope and memory.