Thursday, December 30, 2010

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.

Monday, December 20, 2010

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.
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.

Wednesday, December 15, 2010

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

Sunday, December 12, 2010

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.

Thursday, December 2, 2010


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.