Art

ART





I hunger for things that have a soul

I hunger for things that have a soul
If you have one, I will eat you...

I know a woman
who, in order to breathe,
writes a line or two
of poetry

I also know a man
who dances, naked
in moonlight
with the ghost
of his beloved

I ate them.

I hunger for things that have a soul
and I am starving

Because when I show
the world
a beautiful
red rose

they only
see

the thorns.


Your silhouette falls in my mouth

Your silhouette falls in my mouth
Repeatedly
I could not speak, in pleasure

You compel me to rise and fall
To be lost and found

In your quivering hands
You confuse the bones out of me

I look for myself in the rush
And fainting ebb
Of your sighs
That I find myself in your soul

As tonight, I love you with kisses
Smoothly etched
Between the sheets
Of your being.




I will open you, petal by petal

I will open you, petal by petal
Slowly, amidst exchanging breaths
Feel my fingers send ripples down your skin
Tracing constellations made of desires, erupting
Urges

Watch me surrender my soul
To every inch of your splendor
While I examine the pages of your body
Soft, glowing, and infinite
Every pore, every curve
Nothing will be left untouched

Feel how my lips write my devotions on your naked self
The blunt confessions of a soul, in lust with divinity
And make your body tremble
With your already trembling lips
For I will eat you down, until your words falter
Until your sighs learn to pray

And beneath the curious moon and the shy burning stars
I will look straight into your eyes
Bask in every expression you make
As I stretch you open, with my hard wicked body
Digging into you — slowly, passionately
And without mercy

While love, that strange mysterious love, melts
Into our sweat
Then I will hold you, pull you, closer, closest
Oh, my most sacred — now gasping, relished
Yet we still need
To inhale each other

With tears in our eyes, we turn our soft murmurs
Into deafening moans
Moans that conjure the Soul of God
(Because the holiest moans can only come
From two imperfect souls, meshed
In prayer)
And then nothing — nothing but ecstatic bliss
And the desire to be enlightened
Shall be
No more

For nothing will remain
But the combined scent of two souls
One shared breath, and a dreamless sleep

For once, let me show your body
What it really means
To be touched:

Like a moth, caressed
By fire.


How I love you

How I love you that the night shivers, dropping the stars
on the steps of your feet — feet of my life’s direction
For our love was born before the first star was made

How I love you — you tread on my dreams
that you levitate in moonlight
like a white lily risen from the flesh of the ocean
into my sunrise

and like the subtle current that moves all the planets
you move my heart
that is always within your heart
in the boundless orbit
of your beautiful mystery

How I love you? My One, my True?
You are the first and last dream of my soul
You eclipse everything.


she may look like a rose

she may look like a rose
but her soul is a sword
before you can break her
you have to pass
through the blade




She dances with the devil

Every night, her soul leaves her body
and dances with the devil
They hang on a string of moonlight
and sway to a silent rhythm

He loves her
sometimes she loves him too
Nonetheless, they always dance the night away
and hold each other as if they were dissolving

Someday, surely she will dissolve into ashes and stardust
and he will have to dance alone
His hands will miss her hands
and his feet will search for her feet

But tonight is unlike any other night
They do not just float, kiss, and bend
for they shall dance to the edge of the world
Never to return.


With her arms crossed

With her arms crossed behind her back 
trapped in a pillowcase, 
she was a candle in the night 

“Write a poem on me” she said 
and I obeyed, very carefully 
First, with my lips, then 
with my tongue, I wrote 
slowly on her canvas 
while she held me with her eyes – 
eyes that spread out like branches 
touching the biggest stars 

More luminous than the evening, 
I tore the night to pieces 
and dipped into her soul 
“Be gentle” she whispered with a sigh, 
like a soft flower to the moon 
while I continued to contemplate the fire, 
burning her secrets with my desire 

With my lips replete with her kisses 
and her breaths breaking on my skin to the sound of grace, 
she bit my shoulder, and pulled me up from the depths of the earth 
to the sun blazing in her body 

I pressed her cheek against the pillow 
and watched her melting, with every thrust 
The sheets, wet and swollen, 
wild with dreams 

She whimpered, crying 
tears of the moon – 
yet she was glowing 

We died that night 
We died that night 

when I sank 
deep 
into her arms 
and drowned, 
she held my hand 
to the other side 
of life.


From now on

From now on 
I will live my poems 
And all the poems that touch my soul 
And knowing that the uni-verse is composed of more than a single syllable 
I will dance with the sonnets of life 

I will be like a bird 
No 
I will stand merely as a human 
Who has realized that to the skies 
We are the stars 
Wandering in an infinite world 
Forming the real sun 

I will forget everything that I know about life, about love 
And experience everything the first time 
Greet Sister Air, hail Brother Sun 
Knowing that every decision, every act 
Is my prayer 
Tossed into the multiverse 
I will look at the eyes of my enemies 
And thank them 
For being the best teachers in virtue and perfection 
I will read the newspaper knowing that a greater meaning is found 
Between the lines 
I will continue my search for Truth 
My search for God 
And live a fairy tale 

Again, like a child, without thought, without guilt 
I will dance and fade in the music 
And discover the mystery of a single breath 
I will laugh insanely until heaven and hell open up 
And eat my body 
Because life without madness, without obsession 
Is not worth living 
Thus, I will claim my passion back into my bones 
And walk with Jesus on the shore 
After all, a man who has lost all faith 
Can still remember 
God 

Once again, I will partake in the grand celebration 
Called Life 
Just as that strange worm 
At the very moment it thinks it is about to die 
When everything breaks 

It flies. 


Between

Between her eyes and the palpitating moon
is my firmament of desire
I watch poems hanging on pink branches, like wind chimes
resounding her beauty
to the naked earth - half truth, half fantasy

Yet everything meets in her gaze:
flowers open their petals to the sun
and the oceans evaporate back into the sky
A strange type of alchemy where everything
finds anything, everything except my throbbing heart

Looking out at the horizon
in the sweltering heat of the desert where I stand
I hear the chimes like a soprano of stars, and the wind
further affirming her reality, and further
evaporating myself
into fantasy  that I leap to faith, biting
the edge of the moon
Until her waters extinguish
my fire.


I visited my friend who is a scientist

I visited my friend who is a scientist
He was so busy in the laboratory:

'What are you doing?' I asked


"I am picking up the remaining pieces
from my last experiment" he answered

I watched, curious and steady
'They are like shards of glass,
but soft and bleeding' I said

"Yes, it is my heart" he replied

'And what did you discover?'

"That nothing in the world
is heavier
than a broken heart..."

I did not know what to say
so I just watched him gather
the pieces of his heart in his hands

"But," he explained, "you should not allow

the mistakes of others
to take away your crown and kindness
otherwise, you will become just like them
So continue to write your own fairytale
because it is as real as the sun, moon
and stars

"It is just that, sometimes,
your heart needs to be broken
to let love in."


By the light of the Moon

By the light of the Moon
My heartbeats
Sending you morse codes
In a dialect you alone can understand

By the light of the Moon
I see dreams, mesh
With the fibers of reality
Stars smiling at each other; and blue roses, laughing

By the light of the Moon
I whisper my wish in the air
And I inhale you
Because I feel you everywhere

By the light of the Moon
Now I understand
Why amidst the dissolving universe
God created the stars

By the light of the Moon
My chest opens, and my soul shoots off
Up to the Moon, and back
To you

My Saint, all these, and more
While you sing
By the light of the Moon
While you write
By the light of the Moon.




Because love does not beg

Because love does not beg
he does not ask for her body
although all his stars desire it
He simply hides his screams in his eyes

Because love does not beg
he writes silently on the water
that he is jealous
of the air
she breathes

Because love does not beg
he throws stones at the sea
and counts how many times they bounce
and then he throws his heart

Because love does not beg
he ties a string of words around his neck
and hangs himself
so he could dance with her ghost
that is always floating
on his canvass

Because love does not beg.


She walks with butterflies

She walks with butterflies
All around her body,
And light shines upon her skin from head to toe.
It must be her,
Her serpentine beauty that beguiles my eyes.

O, love, it is as if roses were made from her lips.
See how, when she laughs, the sweetest petals bepaint her cheeks.
And as this fine maiden passes by,
A flower blooms wherever she treads her feet.

Tell me, how does she do it?
How does she make the Moon hang by the glow on her face?
How does she teach the stars to twinkle in the night?
Even her skin reflects a thousand moonbeams
While her eyes move the Sun to rise, and burn bright
O, how, love?

How does she capture light with her own light?
That in her absence or as when she frowns,
The universe would turn afoul
That all heavens, whether day or night,
Would weep the saddest woe
To unbridle her from such gloomy plight.

Yet the more I cannot tell
The thoughts that court her mind,
But they must be sweeter than the music of the nightingale
For no beauty as hers should hear a tinge of whisper
That can produce even the slightest ail.

But if her beauty is devoured
By the wiles of envious time,
The more praises I will give,
For her beauty shall for-ever live
In my verse, in my love, and in my rhyme.




Safira

They warned him that she was mad. 
He did not believe them...
until she took his heart
and started to write poems with his blood.
“Do not worry,” she said,
“for every poem is stained with a kiss.”
She wrote a hundred more.
It was a fantasy that was never meant for any human. 
But he did not want to let go...
until she evoked ghosts and ancient spirits 
to hold him tight. 
“Do not move,” she whispered. 
“I also want to write poems inside your body.
If you move, it might hurt more.”
She stabbed her golden quill into his skin
and wrote until midnight, until there was 
no more space in him for another poem. 
Tired yet smiling, she asked, “Do you like it?”
“Whatever makes you happy,” he groaned, 
not knowing if he was dead or alive. 
“But, please tell me, do you also love me?” he asked. 
She looked at him, her glassy eyes pure and innocent,
“I only write because of you, my love.
You make me a poet.”
Then she kissed him, and at once
he knew that their love was true. 
She showed him his heart 
sweetly beating in her hand,
and ate it.


She wanted to eat the Moon

She wanted to eat the Moon
That is impossible I said the Moon is too big
Do not be hilarious she laughed
and held a coin up to the Moon
It is even smaller than this coin
I will eat it like an almond
Moments later, I heard that she rode a Lemurian crystal orb
and flew to the Moon

Next evening, I saw the crescent Moon

and realized that she was probably living her dream
of eating —
eating the Moon
Worried that no Moon might be left for humanity
I rented a helicopter and flew high up into space


I found her, sitting on the Moon

as if thinking of the right way to bite it
How are you? I asked
Come and sit beside me she smiled
I do not think I still want to eat the Moon she said
That is strange, why not? I asked
From here, everything looks more beautiful she answered
The Earth looks like a dream as it should be
And if I eat the Moon, we would not have this place to sit together


She reached for a star and plucked it

I can have this instead
Would you like some? she asked
No, thank you I replied
She whispered a wish into the star and ate it in one bite

You are strange she said

You do not want the Moon, not even a piece of star
What do you want?


It was then when I realized

that I had forgotten to truly dream anything meaningful or silly in life
Silent and sad, I stared blankly into her deep, bright eyes
Oh, poor child she whispered what has the world done to you?

Feeling empty and defeated, Would you dream with me? I asked
From now on, we dream together she answered


She then held my hand and we danced

on the skin of the Moon
Yes, we danced and kissed on the Moon.


I am become Death

I am become Death
for the soul
finally
died

I left it
floating
in the
Euphrates
for having
loved
too deep

nobody
understood

And now
Death
walks
upon
this pale
and muddy
earth
holding a
scythe

for it is
not
Death
that man
should fear
but
Life

and all
that move
and
breathe.

"Now I am become Death, the destroyer of worlds."  
—Lord Krishna, Bhagavad Gita


Death

Death
is a beautiful woman
with long, blonde hair
and green, timeless eyes
One day, she will sit
beside you, smile coyly,
and kiss you on the cheek
She loves you
and will save you
from Life

Therefore, live...
Live with meaning and dignity
Do not follow the mainstream crap
Instead, yearn for things that have a soul
And be mad enough to follow your heart

For you were not made
to be tame
You belong
to the wild
among the brightest
stars
and the biggest
flowers

You bloom, you shine
in a crowd
of angels...

So that when Death
finally comes,
you can greet her
like a long-lost friend,
smile back at her,
and laugh
as you tell
stories
of how you lived and died
a thousand times
so you could kiss her
on the lips

Because Death
was once in love
with Life
until
you came.


One Day (XXXVII)

“What is a star?” Argon wonders 
“if not to explode and grant a wish
if not my head, falling
on her lap of dreams 
What is a star
if not to imitate the glow on Stella’s face 
or to repeat myself and my love as she sleeps 
For a star can mean a million things at once 
but what good is a star, even for dreamers
if it does not shine where she lies 
For every dream can fall as a new wish can rise 
but nothing escapes her eyes.”


Farewell

Farewell, Poetry
No good can come to a poet
People have lost their humanity