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