Corazón de oro.

I live in Mexico so I thought that it wuld be a nice ending for this year of writting to write something in my native language: Spanish.

This one is for you, sis.

¿Estás dormida?

No, no pasa nada, solamente quería decirte algo...

¿Sabías tú que tu corazón es de oro? Sí, de oro.

Eres tan pura, tan genuina... siempre perdonas, siempre escuchas,

siempre amas.

Bondad es tu verdadero nombre y por ello yo te amo con toda la intensidad que mi corta vida

me permite sentir con cada palpitar del corazón.

Gracias a Dios por tu vida.

English version ;)

Are you sleeping?

No, there´s nothing wrong, just wanted to tell you something...

Did you know that your heart is made of gold? Yes, gold.

You´re so pure, so genuine... you always forgive, you always listen, you always love.

Kindness is your real name and that´s exactly why I love you with all the intensity my young heart allows me to feel with each beat of my heart.

I thank God for your life.

Please visit Thursday Poets Rally

Merry Christmas to you all!

Week 35 award

By being yourself.

The funny thing about this is,

that you don´t really need to try.

Your past experiences,

your past mistakes,

your past words

and past thoughts...

they all led you and made you

who you are today.

Amazing thing to understand today,

that exactly who you are

is what I sometimes need you to be.

See?

You don´t really have to try,

you help me

just by being yourself.

Jingle, thank you. This is my acceptance.

Please visit Thursday Poets Rally. Please visit Monday potluck

I´d like to nominate Fearless Dreams.

If you touch a tree...

"Quand on touche un arbre, on devient un arbre" Le huitieme jour 

I saw you today.

I came home early because I know how much you hate being alone for more than five hours a day.

I came in and I saw you watching a movie, you were paying a lot of attention, -which is very weird for you to do- and you were slowly and deliberately eating a slice of pizza. You don´t even like pizza...

-I am home. How was your day? -I asked, you did not answered.

-What are you watching? -I asked again.

You turned and said to me in the most horrible accent I´ve ever heard -Le huitieme jour.

Then you placed your finger on your lips like people do to ask politely for some silence.

I went to my room, but I left the door open so I could take care of you.

All I could hear was the dialogues... "Bleus, blancs, gris ou noirs, prompts, fous, lestes et titubants, et fanfarons les papillons, ces fleurs célestes battent l'air de leurs ailerons."

I called your name and you did not anwer, then the door, the steps... you were gone.

I went out to the street and you were running as fast as you have never run before. I followed you, I am your sister, I am supposed to take care of you and even more now when you´ve become like a child again.

You turned left and then you were out of sight. I read the name of the street in one house´s door "Little Rock Avenue". She used to live here before she married you.

I walked a few steps more until I found her old house. There you were, hugging a tree and weeping like a baby.

-Sam -I whispered -we must go.

-No -you said -She´s here, she used to say she would become a tree, this tree.

-Sam...

-No, shut up! If you touch a tree you become a tree... She is this tree and so will I.

-Sam...

-Shut up!

-She´s dead!

You kept on holding the tree... so I went home. I can´t fight this war for you, I just can´t.

It´s 11:00 P.M and you´re knocking at my door. Here we go again.

My favorite hobby...

I can´t take my eyes off you...

You´ve always seemed pretty interesting to me.

You always know the answers, you can always talk

about the weather, the breeze, art, the sun, the sky,

chemistry, math, french...

Did you know you´ve influenced me a lot?

Most of what I know is knowledge I´ve borrowed from you.

Because of you is why I sang those songs,

why I learned how to take a deeper look into movies,

why I came to love details...

So, learning about you, it´s my favorite thing to do

and stealing all those memories from you makes me want

to get to know you more.

And if you leave... well, still I would keep all you taught me

knowing that, whoever new comes to my life, then

I would be able to show off those moemories, that knowledge,

those details as mine and not yours... then, I will be more like you.

Submitted to Monday Potlcuk

You try.

This is how it is,

I am me and you are you.

I have not forgotten that I came from Venus 

and that you were born in Mars.

My words are not always spoken in your language,

and sometimes I don´t get what you say...

And still I know that you try

to understand my commotioned mind.

I know because I see it in your eyes,

because I read it between the lines,

because I feel it in your smile

just as if I could read your mind:

You care, and for that,

Thank you.

Breathe.

I closed my eyes today enjoying the soft shadows the light played on my eyelids.

Red figures, soft figures... 

like a dancer perfoming a lullaby with perfect and gracious moves.

My mind. 

For the first time in a long time, a white blur... 

one of those precious moments that never last: absolute tranquility.

I started to fell asleep and when I was slowly fading into dreams,

I heard your voice gently becoming one with my conscience.

Sometimes I dream with your voice.

But then, when I thought there were no more moves to make

or thoughts to think, it came to my mind as clear as it has

never been before.

Anna, -I said to myself -you tend to reach out for perfection,

and you never notice it.

You sometimes  try too hard, you exasperate yourself.

Breathe!,-I said -breathe Anna!

Leap and trust, and stop thinking,

Aiming for perfection is the greatest silent weapon you possess.

Disarm yourself.

The moon.

 

Some people say the moon is a lonely wife... the widow of the night.

Do you believe it?

"It´s just a rock" you said when we were lying on the grass.

"But... it is very important, without it nothing would work." I answered.

Today, I bet you know how important the moon is,

because, you see, today you are not here.

You call me everynight and tell me how lonely you feel without me -like the moon- I think.

Then you express your eager desire to be here with me, holding my hand, kissing my lips.

But you are not here and you won´t be here for a long time... five years seem like a lot to me.

You must know how important it is because, the moon is the only thing you and I have in common now.

Please, don´t come back.

 

Monday Potluck :)

You don´t know me

I saw her walking there and I couldn´t help but to feel a hole in my stomach.

You were not there, and still I could know who she was.

She´s your "her", am I right?

The melody still lingers in the air... why do they always choose melancholic songs?

I hate working here...

"You gave your hand to me, and then you said hello, and I can hardly speak, my heart is beating so..."

-Im sorry, I´d like one cappuccino and one chai, please.

What? She´s talking to me, right... I work here.

-Sure, anything else?

-No, that´s ok, thank you.

-It´s $5.30 please.

You´re coming, I can see you.

It hurts too much to see you again.

Wouldn´t you let her pay and wait for her at the door?

-Hello, Jenny.

You´re talking to me.

-Hello, Dan.

I can feel your eyes on me while I prepare your beverages.

-Here you have. Come back soon!

I said that because I am supposed to, that´s what I get paid for, but, to be honest I truly felt it. After all it is nice to see you, nice to feel your hand touching lightly mine...

"You gave your hand to me and then you said goodbye, I watched you walk away beside the lucky girl..."

You smile and turn around.

Then, I can hear her asking you -Who is she, do you know her?

Then you answer, as I knew you would answer -She´s Jenniffer. She is nobody.

(Michael Bublé-You don´t know me)

Anything.

Anything.

I am scared of making mistakes, but I leap.

I don´t dance well, but I have fun.

I´m not good at talking, so I write.

I may be impulsive, but I calm down.

I don´t know how to react when Im scared, but I pray.

I say a lot of things wrong, but I apologize.

I show that I care in a weird way, but I do show it,

I may feel the world is too much for me to take,

but I dont mean to own it.

I am nothing,

but with you, God

anything is possible.

So ask me to go wherever you want me to go,

ask me to do anything you want me to do,

ask me to give up anything you want me to leave and

take anything you want me to take...

and I will.

"I don´t know where I am

I don´t know where I´ve been...

But I know where I want to go."

(First day fo my life-Bright eyes)

Thank you Jingle, for this award and for this community.

Please visit Thursday Poets Rally

Lu Ann wishes to nominate Amity and Gugo

So young...

Little details...
Cargado originalmente por Lu Ann_hun

Pictures and Words




He was so young, Lord...

How often we forget to stop, to breathe and
to see the beautiful world you´ve created, God.

How often we buy the cheaper lie the world offers:
"Tomorrow, tomorrow, tomorrow"
You ARE young... you don´t need to be in peace with God,
that is for old and dying men...

Who do you think you are as to take life
for granted?
If only you had known him, then you
would be amazed of his life.

He taught us how to laugh in difficult times,
he showed us how to sing "Alele quitatonga"
he played with us, he prayed for us
He cheered up our childhood and youth...

But what we admire of him the most
is how he served the Lord,
how his heart was dedicated to Him
how much faith he had...

He taught us a lot of things while he was alive,
how to be a good friend, brother and son
but he is teaching us something more beautiful
now that he is gone:

That no matter how young you are, God must be
the Lord of your life
and accpeting the precious gift of salvation
through accepting Jesus Christ´s sacrifice
make you live the best life you could ever had
not only here on Earth, but also there
in the eternal life he´s enjoying next to God...
somewhere we will see him when our time has come.

For our dearest friend Abraham Montiel

No one special

I am no one special..

Nobody ever bows when I pass by,

nobody googles my name on the net,

no one has dedicated the manuscript of their book to me.

I am no one special.

No movie of my life has been made,

No one has written my biography,

No star is named after me.

I am no one special.

When I die no celebrities will attend

to my funeral,

and some years after my death

no one will remember my name...

No monuments will be raised in my honor...

but I do not care, because after all

being recognized for what you are and what you´re not

for what you know and what you don´t,

being loved by the ones you love

and being proud of what you´ve done...

to find that after all you are special

while being alive is a blessing no monument could

ever beat.

Submitted to Jingle Poetry :)

When everything´s wrong.

Did I say good night?

I think I forgot to tell you that I´m sorry

and you already hung up the phone.

Did I treat you wrong?

Did I say something that made you awkward?

What was I thinking?

Sometimes I still act childish...

and sometimes I can´t understand the reason,

but of course, you know those things about me

more than what I do.

I will text you,

I need to tell you that I´m sorry,

that it was my fault

and that I will pray to God for you as every night.

I feel the letter in my wrist...

and I hope you feel it too

It is an ever lasting friendship promise...

and a threefold cord is not quickly broken.

Today I want you to know

that no matter what,

I am here,

and I am so glad

you are also there .

When everything´s wrong

I remember what we always say

that God will strenghten our bones,

that with God nothing is impossible

whatever that word may end up meaning.

Today I want you to know

that, no matter what,

I am here,

and I am so glad

you are here too: just what I need.

Visit Thursday Poets Rally :)

He sang to me...

There are a million songs out there that I´ve never heard,

Songs that were written out there for someone who is not me,

written by someone I will never get to know.

But yesterday he called me

and he gave me a present.

He called and he sang a song,

which I did not know

by someone who I´d never heard about,

notes that were never performed in such a beautiful way.

He sang to me,

he said Im an angel...

and that made me smile.

Taking part in One Shot Wednesday

In your hands.

Bloom
Cargado originalmente por Lu Ann_hun

Lord, I leave my friend in your hands,
Im doing all I know to do... but I leave him in your hands.

Sometimes I fear I won´t have the words to say when he needs me...
so I pray for your wisdom oh, Lord and for a heart that's sincere.

Lord I leave my friend in your hands... he´s my best friend in the
world.
But I know he means much more to you than what he means to me
and I know you can take care of him better than me.

Thank you for letting me know him, for being his confident and for the many, many things I´ve learnt about me, about life but specially about you through him.

Bless him, please Lord, bless him his whole life too.

Inspired in "Prayer for a friend" by Casting Crowns

(Listen to it)

Taking part in One Shot Wednesday

One Shot!

It is an oldie... but Im participating in One shot i

with this entry Some kind of best friend

 

 

Beaches or Mountains?

I wated to go to the sea,

but you wanted to go to the mountain.

This was a time limited opportunity,

sharing some vacations...

an amazing gift from the above.

But you wanted to go somewhere I did not want to go...

But inspite of our differences, I am sure God made us this way

when I say black you say white,

when you sleep I laugh

and when I cry you talk...

But the important part is that when I say jump you say go,

when you say yes I say yes too

and when you say today I say okay.

Because we are this way,

because it is how we work...

I want to go to the beach so I can feel the sun

burning my bare feet and because I want the warm breeze to

blow my hair away.

But you want to go the mountain because you want to feel the cold air hitting your face, because you feel more adventurous

and because you want to get to the highest part.

And now, I look into your eyes and realize how many times we´ve gone to the beach

just because I want to, because you love me,

so when this time you say "mountain" I say "Of course darling, because I love you, I say mountain too."

Participating the amazing Monday Poetry Portluck!

Because (Thursday Poets Rally Award)

This post is for Thursday Poets Rally Week 30 Poem Post.
Thank you Jingle, you´re awesome.


As for Week 31, I nominate Liliana for the Perfect Poet Award.

Because...

Why do you need for me to give extensive answers?

Who needs explanations?

Would you ask why is the world round?

Would you ask why is the water blue?

Would you dare to ask why am I smiling? Why do I cry? Why do I laugh?

The real question... Would I be able to explain? Would I give answers?

The mistery of human kind settles in our incapacity to express ourselves, of our enormous souls trapped inside such a small body. So limited, so controled, so... human.

Who cares why? Who cares who? Who cares when?

Why do we ask? Sometimes not knowing is what makes us who we are.

Because the sky is blue, it makes me cry

Because the sky is blue...

Because- The Beatles

Trust me, my dear...

"But, how do you know?" she asks me.
"Because I do!" I answer.
"But... it just cannot convince me, you know?"
"Why not?"
"Because I am afraid." Her voice sounds so like a child, so tiny and full of fear.
"But it will be just fine. Trust me." I answer.
"I do, but... what if I am only being a fool! I would die if he doesn´t answer!"
"Come on, just do it." I say

Then she press the "Send" button... and the e-mail with the line "I love you, I am sorry." is sent to him. The love of her life.
And because I am her sister and because I love her, I encourage her to get him back.

Is the sun made of fire?

I ended up here because I had nowhere better to go.
I ended up here because there is nothing like going back to your childhood when life treats you wrong.
But... if you think it twice, kids are much cruel than adults.
How much we underestimate the big and overwhealming effort it takes a kid to survive!

So, I ended up here because it ended just like I never expected it to end.
Now I look at my hands all covered with mud and I can´t help but smile when I stare at the mud castle I just helped my daughter to build.
I stand up and take her tiny muddy hand.

As we walk she asks me "Mom, who made the mud?"
"The rain when it touched the earth, darling."
"And who made the earth?"
"God did."

She stays in silence and then asks me "And the air? God made the air mom?"
Her innocent and yet so wise question makes me stop.

There´s a soft breeze hitting my face.
I can feel it. It surprises me that it´s been a long since I felt the breeze in my skin. I guess I just didn´t pay enough attention.

Suddenly a drizzle starts falling softly over my daughter´s pretty face.
She´s looking up to the sky "Mommy, is the sun made of fire?"
I smile because I had forgotten how simple and yet so beautiful and complex this world is: fire, earth, water and air...

My shoes are all covered with mud too, but right now I do not care about anything else, after all, life is not that bad...
I answer to my child: "Yes honey, God made the air and the sun is made of fire".

Taking part in Monday Potluck

Unexpected, rare friends.

For David.

I am seventeen.
We are unexpected and rare friends, aren´t we?
And we share a lot of things
day by day and year by year.

Sometimes Im amazed of how much you make me laugh
and how easily I forget I was mad.
And as children we play, and as children we laugh,
like there was nothing we couldn´t figure out.

God gave us a friend to trust in,
someone to help us follow Him,
someone to pray with,
someone to learn with.

And we´re a strange combination of adult and child
we are so young but with our feet on the ground
full of colors, gifts and bounds
and so many other things yet to find.

This friendship is special and so neat
because between us is God and no other thing
I´ve become your confident as you are to me
all during this months, this time, this year.

And I´m very proud of you because you keep God in your heart
and that is exactly what we must all look up at
You are an example, a friend, a smile
a very, very fine young life.

I forget my age more often than what you do
you´ve seen me mad, sick and happy too.
I´m way much more impulsive than you
and you always shoot high at the moon.

You´re precise, observer and kind
while I´m absent-minded and not very exact.
I guess that´s why we always laugh and laugh
because there are so many things to talk about.

To us God shows his mercy, love and care
when he gives us friends that help us bear
this world, this town and life itself
People like you, my dearest of friends.

I hold the moon in my heart.

 
 

Seven years have gone.
Almost a decade, you know.
Nothing left to feel or say,
nothing left inside my head.

Every night I look outside
my teardrops fall over the grass,
because this night you won´t return,
tomorrow you´d still be gone.

Dreams and illusions are gone,
watch the grass grow old.
Because nothing else we can share
but the moon above our heads.

 
 
Taking part in One stop Poetry

Monday!

Please visit Monday Poetry Potluck I´ll be taking part with this three writings:

Maggie

Anna

Holocaust

Thanks!

She once said...

Original post in Words and pictures. Please comment there! so you can see the awesome photograph!

He felt like going out to breathe fresh air,
or maybe to capture with his camera
the beauty of the day.

He entered to the garden, and then he saw it
a beautiful rosebush smiling
right in front of him.

He could not help but to think of her,
"How I love roses!"
She once said.

And he wished he could cut a rose or two
Give it to her and say
"This was meant to be for you".

But as he knew he could not give it that day
neither tomorrow or the day after that,
he took a picture... and gave it to her.

She was surprised of the young man,
because she recieved a gift like this
for the first time in her life.

Most people give chocolates, but to herself she explained
what he was trying to say
"For the right time I will wait".

He knew she was smiling thou he could not see her
because "How I love roses!"
she once said.

Empty.

We are sitting at this table, the perfectly white cloth is laughing at both of us...
You cannot look at me for more than two seconds at a time, as if my face makes you recall our ethereal past.
I stare at you, then I stare at my food: nothing I had not eaten before.
But when I look up I see your blue eyes staring at me... is it my imagination or are they more bluish than what they used to be?
You know Im fragile, you know your eyes cause me fear. I was never able to bear them.
So why don´t you stop looking at me?
It is quite funny that we ended up here: sitting at the same table, eating at the same restaurant and working for the same company.
So I must gather some inner strenght to look at you before you finally see me trhough.
Eyes never lie, and yours still ask me why.
Why? Because I could, because I can, because I did.
I was never too clever, but today my head seems to be in the right place, that is why I look at you for the last time, I sigh and then I stand up.
But when Im right at your side you wrap your hand in my arm.
I stay quiet and still. Should I dare to move?
Slowly your hand goes down until it reaches my hand.
I know words were never my fortress and I know this time I won´t need to tell you anything, because you´re about to find out why I cannot stay any longer.
So when your fingers get intertwine with mine you feel something cold in my finger.
You seem surprised, yes, it is a ring.
I am getting married to someone who isn´t you, someone who could never be you.
But I do not need to say it, because I know you´re way much clever than me.
As I expected but contrary to who you are, you let go my hand, then you drive your glass to your lips and take the final sip.
Your glass is empty now, three years have gone and you´ve got nothing left to say.
I walk away.

Taking part in Thursday Poets Rally, Week 29

Alibi

(A re-post from months ago I wanted to share.)

Submerged voluntarily into a deep sea of confusion,
having nothing left but a narrow way out.
Holding my breath as I fight to death with my memory;
Useless memoirs... I can´t remember when it happened,
and I can´t structure any lame excuse to explain the "why".

I agreed to say it was not planned, that it simply happened and I believed it.
But indeed I had thought of the possibility, of the minimum effort it would take me to get us to the exact moment of anxiety revealed.

I smelled it from miles away, the danger was there since the very beginning: passionate personalities, time words and music, lethal dose.
I tasted it, I could enjoy its flavor burning in my lips, and yet I took possesion of the time, filled the environment with sweet feminin scent, dazzled my victim with innocent looks and moldeated my words in my hands to make them sound how they were supposed to sound.

My head high, it was my moment, my chance to prove myself something I´ve always known.

I am not guilty to the eyes of the world, confession would come too late...
I made my point, I made my move, I played somebody else´s game under my rules not by cheating, just by having the winning hand since the very start.

Would it be too much taking the whole credit if I say I manipulated every little detail?
Would it be too much considering myself as an artist if I describe the beautiful scene I stole from a song? I improved it, I created a movie scene.

I fell too, wheter I like to admit it or not.
Controled myself by loyaly following the script my well trained mind wrote.
So maybe after all the move was not completely mine, I may have left some spaces uncovered... or maybe I knew I´d love to let myself get lost into the moment.

I had prepared the stage, the lights were on, the script was memorized... I deserved to enjoy the play.
My job was done and it was fair enough to take my prize home.

The decisive moment arrived... staring, staring, staring.
Proximity felt different than what I expected.
Shivers were not agressive this time, they did not creep upon my skin, they climbed to my spirit, my soul.
It was a walk on the clouds, a blue landscape, a soft lullaby, a non burning sun, a non ticking clock, a water embrace.
Fullness ran through our veins.
We tried to take it out of our system only by taking more of it with every breathe.

By recieving an unexpected sensation, the script and everything else turned useless and less formal than what the moment required.

I closed my eyes and let myself follow my senses, no rules, just pureness.

Pureness, no evil thoughts, just tenderness.

Souls spoke, a higher level our brains couldn´t understand.
A symphony with unreachable notes and colors.
Just what it was: an instant.

The song was over, no more notes to perform.

The curtain was down, the characters became real, the script was burnt, my argument was proved, the main part was shared...

but the theatre was empty.
No one to witness my glorious victory, no one to testify my tender defeat... the secret our to keep.

Submitted to One Stop Poetry

Lighted curve.

Original Post in Pictures and Words


I still can´t believe we are here.
Night crawled up to the sky, but still the lights thru the window remind me that we are still in this world, in this city... but together.

You are sleeping now that this bus is quiet.
To be honest, I can´t sleep... I mean, how could I sleep when I am still so overwhelmed because of all the things we said, of how much we grew together during this trip and how good it feels just to be sitting here next to you?

You are sleeping, but still you´re holding my hand.
Don´t let me go...

I look outside the window, a lot of cars, a lot of lights... a lot of lives out there. Lives we don´t know, lives that do not know ours, and I smile.
I hope they could know how much you mean to me, I hope they could see how beautiful this moment is.
And I hope you know it because, after all, it is all about you... it is possible because we are here together, because you are next to me.

Almighty gentleman

Our moon shines like it did 200 years ago and the sun keeps on singing its unheard melody.
The sky may be darker, that is for sure, but it is still in the same place where it has always been: above our heads.
The birds still sing and the dogs still bark.
Yet, us, the powerful human race, the almighty form of life, believe ourselves to be so important, so relevant when, in reality, we could simply disappear and the world would still exist.

We are not that necessary... Are we?

Ages of wars and centuries have seen us fighting for freedom, fighting for liberty and killing each other.

Men who rule each nation sending people to fight useless wars, a lot of lives lost just so those men can gain power or territory.
They send them to fight in the name of the nation... if they are so brave, why don´t they go themselves and fight like in old days?
That, was called honor, that was worthy of admiration.
What if you die? Who cares? There are a lot of people out there who could do your job as bad as you do.
Fight your own battles almighty gentleman; you can not make peace from war. That´s the most stupid way of thinking ever.

In her finger.

"Do you know what it feels like for a girl?"
Women, we believe in fairy tales, we long for happy endings.
Since we are small kids we are taught to love, we are taught to dream, we learn how to believe.
That´s why we are so fragile and still so strong, because we are made of sugar and cotton, but we can be as hard as rocks.
When we hold a baby in our arms the world hushes and there is when we know that we were meant to protect life.
We make a song from cries and we know how to turn fear into laughs.

So we are the fantasy, complex and delicate creation of God and we can not deny our nature.
We are made of sugar and cotton...
That´s why our hearts beat slower and faster, our skin blushes and our eyes sparkle... when we can feel in our finger the symbol of a promise... because a promise is what we are meant to hear.

Anna

Master of the world,
You made the universe
You know its secrets because
you know us all.

 

Designer of the sun,
Who could deny your existence?
You´ve designed a plan
and a purpose for our souls.

 

Lord of my heart,
I was blind and I was stupid;
I thought I knew the way...
But you set me apart.

 

King of justice and peace,
when I called out to you
You formed me in your hands
and you turned me into this.

 

Painter of the Earth,
You filled me with your grace,
You saved my life more than once:
amazing gift I do not deserve.

 

Anna "Grace; favour of God".
Now it does not surprise me,
now it makes perfect sense
that Anna is my name, Lord.

In this arms

If you could only know how much this waiting hurt.

My back aches and Im still trembling because of the overwhelming effort you caused me.

Love always makes us bleed.

Now that you are here in my arms there is no sun shining in the sky anymore, it is late at night. I do not know why I always thought there would be sunlight when you came.

You just blinked to me once, now your eyes are closed.

I lay down to feel you chest beating and I hear your slow and soft breathing.

The air around you is only as pure as you.

How I wish you could talk to me and tell me how you feel.

Im pretty sure you are feeling uncomfortable, I can tell by the expression of your face, and I do not blame you.

My arms are still not tired enough as to stop holding you. I must confess I could hold you forever, I do not want to let you go.

All the pain I suffered, all that I went through... it all faded away when I saw your face. It was worth it. I could even die right now that I´ve seen you, and that would be enough for me to say that I lived the happiest life ever.

Now I know for sure that I was born to hold you in my arms.

Sleep my darling, I will be here in the morning when you wake up.

Welcome to his life, my son.

Submitted to One stop poetry

Wedding dress.

-So, are you ready?
-Yes, I am, open it! open it! -she says impatiently.
He opens the door and hand in hand they enter to their new home, their first home.
She let go his hand and as a small child she quickly enters and walks around the house trying to observe every single detail.
-Can you believe it hun?
-Believe what, darling? -he says as he takes the camera in his hands and starts taking pictures of her.
She notices what he´s doing and blushes -What?
-I just wish you could see your own face right now... I need to keep this moment forever.
She smiles.
She walks and looks at herself in the full-length mirror near the bedroom´s door.
She sighs and touchs lightly her wedding dress.
Suddenly he is next to her and looks at her with tenderness.
-I always wanted one of this, you know? -she says still admiring her gown.
Then, he takes her face in his hands -This eyes -he kisses her eyes -your eyes, your face, your expression is the same like four years ago... you´re still my pure, smiling, bright girl. You haven´t change a bit!
-Oh, but you´ve changed, you´re old now -She answers mischievously staring at his eyes. -Are you hungry Mr. Jones?
-Yes, I am Mrs. Jones- he says laughing -are you?
-Let´s cook something.
They get into the kitchen and start cooking pancakes.
She tries to make one heart shaped pancacke -I ruined it darling, Im sorry.
-You never ruin anything, you only make it differently.
They walk into the dining room but their suitcases are all over the table, ready to part with them to their honey moon.
-Well, we can eat on the couch -she says.
They sit together and she tooks the remote control -What would you like to watch?
-Don´t turn the T.V on -he replies.
But, I thought you said you wanted to watch something when we arrived home
He laughs very hard and says -I did not say watch, I said see.
-See? See what?
-Your face -he says staring at her pretty face.
-My face?
-Yes darling, I can´t help but to almost die from happiness everytime I think that I will be able to see your face every single day since today. And, well, there´s nothing more beautiful I would like to stare at forever.
She smiles with joy.
-I like your smile -he says -it is the exact same smile you use when I tell you that you are beautiful.
-No darling -she says with tenderness -this smile is way much different... I love you so...

Seven swans

http://gugothinksandwrites.blogspot.com/2010/08/seven-swans.html

The crack on the tree

I´ve never been so lonely like today.

I am sure you still won´t be here tomorrow, and you are not here today, so why am I still sitting here?

I come here every single day and sit in this same spot in the middle of the sidewalk. People stare at me, sometimes they even throw a coin at me, I must look really pathetic. Besides sitting in the middle of the sidewalk is not what people may call "normal", but still I go there at 5:00 o´clock and sit.

But of course you already know that.

And I bet you also know that when I sit there I keep on looking at the tall tree in front of me. There´s a particular crack in it which I stare at the most of the the time, but of course you already know that...

And I also know that you already know that after the first hour sitting there my eyes begin to water again, like they used to, and that I look at the sky sometimes to say a prayer and ask God to somehow, in His magnificent power, take me away from there, drive my legs home, something that would force me to leave... but He never does. I only listen in the wind: "Go home yourself, I did not bring you here..."

I bet you know that I leave at 7:00, sometimes at 8:00 when the violinst arrives to the main square to play.

You know that I wouldnt stay to hear her sad notes whispering in the air words I dont want to hear.

Then I walk home because I have the stupid idea that you may appear walking somewhere at some point of my way home. That´s exactly why I never take a taxi.

But of course, you already knew.

So, you know a lot of things which I never told you, but what you don´t know is that you don´t know anything about me.

You were never serious when I tried to talk about my dreams. I wanted you to hear me, I did not need you to share them or to walk with me on the way to get what I wanted. I was shy and I did not talked a lot, but that was because I show my emotions when nobody´s looking, I whisper my secrets, I dont scream.

And when I go to sleep, I dont think about you, I think about God.

I bet you dont know that.

So tomorrow I´ll walk again and I´ll sit on the same spot in the middle of the sidewalk, and I´ll stare at the crack in the tree, the crack that has your initials marked.

I remember that we were here and you looked down to the tree and said that you would come here everytime I needed you, that it would be our secret reunion place, and you marked your inital.

It was a promise, you should have thought about it first.

You made a promise you would never keep...

That´s why I come here everyday, because I like staring at the crack, as if it would bring you back here, I sit here and despite the eyes that keep looking feeling pity for me I wait.

That´s why I come here, that´s why I stay here, that´s why I stare at this tree... not because I love doing it, not because I like the pity I cause, not because the tree is worth looking at... I am here because I need you.

Shrimp Salad.

I really love this post... try to imagine.

Original Post in: The rabbit hole.

I’ve told so many times to the company that I don’t like beach destinations, there is something about the beach that I find repulsive, so when I have to make them I avoid even to be close to it.

You may think that is too much, but I even ask for a hotel that is not in front of the beach. There is nothing like a good hotel with A/C I can think I’m not close of it.

Tonight is one of those nights. I’m on a disgusting beach destination, just arriving, refuging from the heat that makes me sick, the job was good as always, I think all these years made me good at it and I simply enjoy it.

I reach the hall, the hostess says hello and smiles. I love that they don’t really care about themselves, their job is always to smile and make you feel good and comfortable.

I just can make this forever, catch a plane, grab a cab, check in...different faces and check out.

I take the elevator to the suite, walk a few steps and get my hand on the jacket and pull out the key card.

As I insert it on the door a cold rush of air runs thru the corridor which is strange since I’m on the 15th floor of a complete closed building. The led turns green and I get back where I was, I enter to the room and close the door.

Once inside, first thing to do: off shoes and socks, then the shirt... the pants feel just fine.

I turn the tv on. Nothing special to watch, all I need is the noise.

I feel hungry: call room service, there is no question my favorite diner at this hotel is shrimp salad and a cup of red wine.

They are here 30 minutes later, 10 dollars tip, and no more human contact until tomorrow.

I sit on the bed watching tv and start eating, this particular meal is good, finish quickly and seek for a movie, one is just starting... I should watch it, I do.

Meaningless entertainment, two hours have gone and the body recalls for rest. So I simply turn the light off and get into bed.

As all is dark and no more noises are made in the room, I can hear the sea with its annoying sound, not even the two blocks dividing us can hold the noise, anyway I focus on sleeping and close my eyes.

The night is running and I’m feeling uncomfortable. I just keep on moving on the bed, I think it is the shrimps´fault…

Another hour is gone and I cant concentrate so I stand up walk a few minutes around the bed and feel better. I’m back on it.

I finally feel comfortable and sleep. Suddenly I wake up and feel all in a rush, I cant hardly breath, I feel as if my head is going to explode. I feel so anxious, I stand up put my pants and my shirt on and I get out of my room, get down on the elevator and run thru the hall.

The hostess seems surprised, she can’t even say a word.

Once out on the street my legs start running towards the beach, it is like some part of me is guiding me with self life and the other part is just being driven by.

I run the hole two blocks and I spot that thing that I hate and that I’ve run away from during a lot of years, now I realize that there is bad weather, a lot of wind is running making my run harder. My shirt is waving and the wind is crashing against my naked chest and my stomach has a funny sensation... it is as if the wind was running thru me.

I finally get to it. I can feel the cold sand down my standing feet and is not that bad at all.

In some moments the immensity of the dark sea is enlighted by a stroke, a beautiful ray of light that seems to point me something in this very moment.

I take my hands to my face and I feel something wet. There is still no rain falling, I notice that tears are falling from my eyes. Then suddenly the noises of the wind stop and a calm, soft music is heard. I cant recognize it, but I can hear two violins, the second one making a beautiful harmony with loud cellos being shutted by a beautiful melody made by the first violin, it is just so beautiful.

I realize the music is coming from the sea, just where the thunders are falling and I do not hesitate and enter into the water, first walking until I can’t reach the sand anymore, then I swim. I just follow the music.

As I look back to the beach, something emerges from my old memories. I remember why I hate the sea, because that is how she left…

I keep on swimming and the music is stronger than ever, now there are oboes, trumpets, drums and flutes.

A light is down my body, deep down in the sea I stop swimming and pay attention to it. I can see something is moving thru the shadows and pieces of light emerging.

It seems like it is a fish...

I don’t feel scared, but then I see a face, a familiar face, a woman’s face…

My life according to Michael Bublé

Using only song names from ONE ARTIST, cleverly answer these questions. You can’t use the band I used. Try not to repeat a song title. Repost as “my life according to (band name)”

Pick your Artist: Michael Bublé


Are you a male or female: Stardust

Describe yourself: Summer Wind

How do you feel:Feeling Good

Describe where you currently live: Home

If you could go anywhere, where would you go: A foggy day (in London Town)

Your favorite form of transportation: Dream

Your best friend is: Always on my mind ;)

You and your best friends are: Everything

What’s the weather like: Wonderful Tonight

Favorite time of day: Moondance

If your life was a TV show, what would it be called: The best is yet to come

What is life to you: How sweet it is

Your last relationship: That´s all

Friends.

-Are you sure?

-Sure? Of course I am sure! What? Don´t you trust me?

-I do.. but it is not what I expected.

-But it is the best thing to do. You really have to trust me in this. Ready? One, two...

-No, wait...

-Now what?

-It is just that... I am afraid.

-You know? you´re very childish...

-But I am scared. I need something though I am not very sure of what it may be.

-Try to make up your mind, what do you need?

-I think I need... time.

-Time? We can´t stay here forever.

-I just need some time.

-Ok.

-You won´t wait for me. Will you?

-Yes I will! Of course I will.

-It won´t be much. I promise.

-Is this an excuse?

-No, no. I am truly trying. Please be patient.

...

-Are you ready now?

-No. I am not.

-I gave you time! I´ve been waiting here for you and still you won´t do it.

-I just can´t. I am sorry.

-Why are you crying? You always cry.

-I am sorry.

...

-So what do you need. But be honest this time.

-I need...

-Yes?

-I need...

-You need?

-I need a friend. That´s what I truly need. A friend.

-I love you.

-What I need is you. You are my friend.

-I will be here.

....

-So are you ready this time?

-You are here, yes I have all I need.

-Sure?

-Yes! go ahead or I´ll get scared again.

-Ok. Here we go. One, two, three! Jump!

Once they fell from the swing they keep on walking.

She is 7 and he´s 9.