Blur at dawn

“Who sees the human face correctly:

the photographer, the mirror, or the painter?”

P Picasso

I look at him staring back at me,

Its gaze is heavy and tired,

I don’t recognize him…

…not fully.

Who are you? I ask,

But there is no sound

-I must have used my inner voice-

And as expected, no answer came.

I remember you…

…or at least the idea of you.

You are not what I imagined,

Yet, I wonder if I am what you desired as well.

     -probably not-

I accept you, and you me,

Like we have done many times before.

And with a faint smile I say…

     “…Morning”.

Auburn light

Awoken by the stench, I lay on my back,

the odor fills my nostrils and goes to my throat,

a sweet-rubber-coal pungent taste slimes down it’s rear…

I fight to open my eyes, just to find them shut by the evaporated tears,

the crackling sound of the background becomes clearer.

…rip open my eyelids…

   …blur…

      And hot… very hot…

It seems I didn't make it, his flight overpower my feet…

As my sight adjusts, I see it.

   first the shadow…

…then his gold and emerald face followed by the auburn light…

To the unknown

Late last night the large boat came,

with the promise of adventures, I jump on it straight .

Take me here and there, take me anywhere and everywhere,

for a voyage I long for, and I like your way.

Set sail to the unknown!

The seashores are cold and the water is fierce,  

Enjoying the salt and sun,

…the warmth and green.

The boat came again, so I took it once more.

Set sail to the unknown!

The sandshoes are hot and the moisture is rare,

Adoring the bush shadow,

…the heat and the gold.

It came once more, and so I go…

Set sail to the unknown!

The green-lands are vast and rainfall is plenty,

Indulging in fog and serenity,

…the shiver and green-mock.

The trip shall continue, for it arrived as before.

Set sail to the unknown!

The buildings are high and the murmur is deafening,

Pampered in tech and living quite fast,

…the hectic, the gray.

My time has come, for it's here again.

Set sail to the unknown…

 …and at the end, please bring me home…

But where is that home you for?

 It asked on a whisper…

On the house that knows your secrets of youth?

Or with the friends that are spread from here to there?

Maybe on the pumping heart where you hold them…

Or in the endless frames that dance at night…

I am your home! …it told me…

…as I sailed to the unknown…

Hugo Cervantes

A day of remembering

The beam shines over my retina,

I stare straight at that point,

            …it’s not a dream,

    instantly the saline releases,

I swallow with an aching throat while the scenes soar in my mind.

                What of he who conquered his world?

                    …all that’s left is…

                            …this…

Pity overwhelms the soul,

     Dreams of kings, of vagabonds and freedom…

… and yet…

           Those were just that… dreams

                         Fantasies…

                               Thoughts of the young mind… (I laugh).

There was never a king, nor a globetrotter…

     The leather jacket and booths were just that.

         

Today, the soft soles, the short hair… the cufflinks…

     That is closer to the kingship as there ever was… 

             For one thing, there is kin that was not there…

There are no more beams over my eyes…

No waking to the salty taste of a tear.

The world is as it should be.

And I…

     well…

          …well I’m as close to those dreams, as I’ll ever be…

…and will ever want to be.

Once more

Here I go…

again into the unknown.

The surroundings are familiar,

I’ve been here before, but this time is different.

Today, it feels permanent.

Again life is packed,

The road is ready

I just need to go.

I’ve been here before, but this time is different,

I don’t know the words.

How many times will I do it?

How many places will it take?

It feels permanent…

                   …as it has felt before.

Jump into the adventure…

Here I go again…

The weary traveller gets excited once more.

HC

Pound of flesh

Rapidity I approach the end,

Again the bell raises its tone.

…worms

Rhapsody of dead,

Anthem to the life that will not be.

…worthless

Round and round…

Another chance?

…why?

…in the end all I have is you.

HC

Olden of the water



To one of the few living witnesses, an homage…

Amazed at your grandeur I quiver in your shadow.

     Smell of old, smell of water and of dirt.

How to understand your magnificence?

     You just lie still for it all.

Uncountable existences have lain by your shade.

     And innumerable more will pass after my passing.

Encountering your presence I ask…

     …please tell me the stories of old.

How to decipher your silence?

     Watch the sunshine, hear the wind and feel the past.

Unravelling your body takes my mind away.

     One more intricacy of the giant, one more attribute that makes me awe.

Enriched by your existence I stand beside you.

      Proud and strong I feel.

Towards immortality you have pushed our existence.

     Allow me, in the smallest measure, to return this gesture.

Ending these lines I make this homage, Olden of the water.

     Receive my praise, my respect and my love.

Indigo silhouette

I woke to the intense light,

like many times before…

The box was silent, but so was the rest of the room.

A bit confused I started to remember…  

it seems he got the girl at the end… but don’t they always do?

I struggle to find the remote… I ache for the soft mattress and the warm duvet. 

My arm fights to be free, the numbness makes it difficult. 

I start to get annoyed as my sight adjusts to the brightness…

and there you are… not a full you, just the contour of you…

The luminosity bathes your body; black and blue fill my eyes. 

Elegance…

even at the weirdest of posses you manage to ease my numbness.

I believe the bed can wait.