FRIENDLY SKIES OF COLORADO
To John Denver, In Memorian
while I`m flying the friendly skies of Colorado
The Rocky Mountains at the right
and the cowboy next to me trying to speak in spanish
Montaña Pedrusco -he said
proving to be kind-
(he`s talking about las Rocallosas)
"Starwood in Aspen" is playing in my mind
I´m leaving on a jet plane
and I don`t know when I`ll be back again
In Channel five a country song
brings me some kind of help
I want to be with you
in Albuquerque.
GUARDING HER LOVE
She is passing like a fire
through the forest
Afterwards
only remains hot coals here and over there
Like a fire she smashes all
with the fleeting help of wind
Like a coal I contain forever the seed of fire
and will guard a heat core
even after I become a diamond.
SHE IS ALWAYS TALKING
"You say
darling
sweetheart
honey
You feel
like crushed chocolate
touch the sunshine
think in candle rings
or marry me
I want christian compassion
passion
my massage
We are your funny family
I am a romantic
and never will change
I need ‘something’
Sorry
You need blind hands
fancy special partner
Please forgive the relationship
Go."
STAR-MAKER
Her hand is over the blank paper
Flying like a seagull
sometimes she scans the surface
or dives searching for the right thought
slippery like a fish
In a poem she paints the patina
of old Chinese bronze In another poem she compares the thoughts of love
With a pool
a deep pool
She is a poet
something so nice as a sun falling
- the "fat old sun" -
a tangerine dream
so nice as a cheek of a baby
or a hard nipple
The paper is the universe now
and she is a star-maker.
YOU AND YOUR WAYS
There are ways you know
-as chocolate
tender pleasure
true thoughts
honey whispers-
mixed with funny passion
-or a ring
candles on the night-
You are a massage
On my blind
silly hands.
I.M.F.
He was once in search of the american dream
and now he is living the nightmare
convicted
with lethal poison in the veins
shot by a school child
drowning the soul with a drink
changing the farm
by the mass production
and this
by a wasted earth
the hunger
the Invincible Massive Fuckers.
HEAVEN´S PEACE
God couldn't care less about humans fate
(animals and little insects
or something like that:
the bees and the ants)
He's always thinking about politics:
the star dance
the marketing of the religions
(the missing lamb, the sins forgiveness,
a major competitive strategy against New Age)
I think his Kingdom is gone to hell,
and if I die tomorrow, all my efforts
to reach the heaven's peace
will be in vain.
NEWBORN
In the quiet night,
Enjoying
The lighting loneliness,
Searching
The best thinking,
Remembering
The times
That become stale,
The empty voices,
Distant sound
Of footsteps
In the circular
Gallery of my mind,
Walking to and fro,
I try to get
A breath.
Then the future
seems to me
easily to tink,
and dandle myself
in the arms
of Thou Love.
NORTHMAN
In the cimbrium
Avalanche,
Jyland
At my shoulders
I live,
Blending
My blood
Fighting
Red in my fury
I throw
An oak
To the seas,
Leaded
By my destiny
To Iceland.
Dragged along
By the winds,
Almost a leaf,
Carried away
from Greenland
To Vinland.
I raise
My wine glass
And drink
To your health,
Northman,
Civilizing
Barbarian womb
Of all the nations.
