You were always ready to insist

Recalling from day one

You were always ready to insist.

Just one more thing was there left to complete.

Yet it took a day, it took a night just enough for you to desist.

I remember you asking me if I promised

No matter what if this would be?

A firm yes was always my response

Yet never did I imagine you weren’t the one to persist

What to everything? 

All those sayings that we for me,

I never said those were required,

At first you were the one who began to believe.

Suddenly this is hard to take in all at once.

I wish for a day, a day you might

Want to go back & replay the memories.

Must accept the fact that just one taste 

Was all I could ever fulfill.

The promise, the wish, that vow…

The proposal now has no meaning.

If I never asked to be lied too, then why?

Don’t want to come off as someone who 

Can’t seem capable of setting free,

Tried many times not to keep hanging

On such false stories, but that box still contains 

The promise, the wish…lied & sold my way

On the night when everything

Seemed pulled out of a tale.

I’m not who you portray me as lately to be.

Apparently I classify as the enemy

Ever since then all your actions 

Point  that I am the one 

Who does not deserve a why to all of this

Guess you’ve moved on rather soon

Yet there are times such phrase above

My heart is too dumb to comprehend

It still longs for that once story to be --P

Wants to believe that one day it will be 

Just like you lied & told it so…all those times

That our story was one for the world to see.

Two soul mates that no matter the storms

They sought it out to live happily.

Only hope you can hear this melody 

Wish such you really had meant it 

Each time you said I was perfect, 

The everything that mattered the most

Tell Him That This Is No Plea

Tell him that this is no plea,

I know by now that you're free & more than free, your usual self.

Time has passed, by now I'd accept that old phrase "time is pain's remedy"

Maybe not so much recovery from pain was needed after all for you,

Just time to fully bury me through your memories.

Tell him that this is no plea

Just simple note with a melody.

Tell him that I've tried to forget just like him

All those wishes, promises & could be's he made to me.

As well, I have tried erasing him from my memory.

Believe me when I say this:

I make up images in order not see our movie play through.

Consciously I have no saying.

No matter what I try

Everything fails once I close my eyes

Keep wanting for all of this not to be,

Keep wishing it was one more lie.

Million things I have tried

But unlike you,

Can't seem to see through victory.

Tell him that I wonder

If anything he ever said was really meant,

Or was it all a pretend of sympathy.

Wondering is all I ever do

No matter what, no response comes through

I just can't seem to understand

how a soul becomes a ghost

Tell him not to think bad of me

Just because I quite can't grasp what's to be

How nothing of the everything will ever be

Tell him that from everything

There only 2 regrets my way.

Regret just how couldn't make

the goodbye hold a bit longer.

Certainly how I did not perceive

The last night he preferred to step away & sleep

instead of confronting maybe things could've been

Tell him that'll never hate anything from him

Because I know he was the soul to be

Tell him that he needs not to worry

that this is just a note with a melody

I ask for some greater energy to give me

his ability that made our memories belong to a grave

where wishes, promises of the could be's remain buried.

Time takes every single pain away,

But once again time does not prefer me

I wish so much for a simple miracle light

that could lead you in the old way, the --P

But I must accept this reality

I'm unaware of why I'm your enemy.

Subconsciously my heart remain

calling out for --P

Anesthesia & There You Were

Anesthesia general, local, name it there's just no point to it. 

Starts to take effect, a trip, a gate, a sign labeled daze.

There it is again without consent, 

the thoughts, memories, laughters, the voice, the scent…

All approach in such friendly swirl. 

Taking over the land it reigns: subconscious 

Not having enough, one last attempt is made as I open my eyes. 

Action to which fighting against has become such routine while conscious.

Yet I can't seem to claim victory against the reverberating 

thoughts, memories, laughters, voice & scent.

Its ridiculous…I know

For I wish nothing more than to forget.

A skill I'm lacking and you make up for.

Don't Speak

She tilts her head upwards once more, maybe this time she could catch a glimpse of sunlight. 

Such light should indicate the way out. She thought to herself.

Sultry is how the air wrapping her skin pore & breath that she took would feel in the dusky room, where she has been captive for quite some time now, were it has lead her to the complete loss of awareness & notion. Place that holds one companion called: decay, whose job is to remember her that time is closing in on her.

Don't speak are the last two words replaying in her head loud as if hearing them from her mother all over again. 

Don't speak! - mom had cried out. It was too late she had began uttering all that ever crossed her mind against those uniformed man, that took her childhood away before she was even aware that life contain other stages called adulthood. 

However, now don't speak is all that played in her head, don't speak in this room or decay will make its way towards you. Don't speak kept replaying in her head as she lifted her head once more, maybe this time visibility might let her see more than before.

Throw Me Over The Horizon

I am crossing my fingers for someone to strap me onto a slingshot & just stretch it out let it gain impulse enough for it to throw me over the horizon, doesn't matter if the aiming is off, as long as I make it over the horizon……………………Is all I want! to be on the other side of the horizon.

"And you may case the grounds from the cascades to puget sound,

But you are not permitted to leave

I know there's a big world out there like the one i saw on the screen

In my living room late last night,

It was almost too bright to see

And i know that it's not a party if it happens every night

Pretending there's glamour and candelabra

When you're drinking by candlelight

What does it take, how long must i wait? -Postal Service"

Dudas, Hipotesis y Conclusiones Nada Concretas Sobre el Arte

Pablo Picasso

Me sumerjo en la mística magia de una pieza de arte (sin importar estilo) al despertar siempre encuentro tal duda presente: 

Donde nacerá esa fuente de inspiración en los artistas? (los pioneros, los que se atreven ir mas allá).

A que se debe en que unas sean mas populares y valoradas que otras?

Al menos algún tipo de hipótesis tuve que crear para calmar un tanto mi curiosidad. Tal vez un día algún científico brindara alguna respuesta concreta.

Hipótesis:

El arte, su expresión como tal,  proviene de lugares situados en los mas profundo. Donde la simple vista no alcanza captar, la luz externa falla en penetrar, pero en cambio los sentimientos llaman tal oscuro (tono neutral) lugar 'nido'. 

Las composiciones muchas veces son producto de pensamientos, opiniones mudas  y de sentimientos algo rebeldes. Que en su trayectoria hacia el publico llegan a obtener una apariencia amistosa e versátil para el espectador. 

Claro la popularidad de unas que otras serán aceptadas y apreciadas por porcentaje mayor de los espectadores ya que sus criterios se basan en manipuleos de los empresarios. Reyes de la mente del consumidor. 

En fin hay pocos individua-lista donde sus criterios tratan de ir un poco mas allá, no tan solo poder apreciar sino dejarse capturar por el misterio ese sentir  que le dio la esencia, vida a la obra. Por que cada obra de arte (sin importar estilo) tiene mas de una cosa por revelar.

"El arte nace en el cerebro y no en el corazón. -Honoré De Balzac"

Outward Stare

A girl is spotted sitting at the center of the cinema. 

Eyes strongly fixed at the screen, whose trailer contains a familiar plot.

Were abstract things as joy, illusions, warmth and forevers are given to the character. 

The character, blind falls as an easy target. 

All is well, promising until it tries to get a solid hold of the abstract offerings.

Thats when reality uncovers the void entitling present, 

Were the once charming and swirly echoes have dissolved to the past. 

The character owning one possession by now, a beating hope for a better tomorrow called future

Remains clenched in the hand.