March

My heart beats like the drums of war as I walk in. Smiles surround me when I resentfully march to my death in an event oddly resembling that of the dreadfully depicted indian rituals. I can almost touch death surround me in a cold, icy embrace. It is a snake wrapped around my guts, my lungs and my heart. The weight of the snake settles upon my chest as I accept my fate and take the last breath of freedom. I say goodbye to a little piece of my soul. One more piece, more more patch of irony.

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An Instinct to Live

It was a beautiful, sunny and bright afternoon in Manhattan. Helen looked out her window towards the New York skyline. Her apartment building, one of the most luxurious of modern New York, stood tall and strong. Her elegant white gown floated as she turned around towards the door, ready to leave. It would be the most magnificent party. It would be elegant, classy and everything good in the world. Helen had great expectations of what was to come.

As she got into the limousine, she felt an itch on her back, a feeling. There was something off, but she couldn’t place her finger on it. Could it be her driver? No, she had known him for many years. Could it be the limousine? No, she had bought it that same year.

via Daily Prompt: Instinct

Quiero vomitar. Las turbulencias de la vida me provocan náuseas que yo nunca había vivido antes. 

Siento mi alma chupada incluso por estas letras. 

El sonido de los autos pasando afuera de mi casa me aterra. Es viernes. Es la 1:23am. Me pregunto de dónde vendrán. Probablemente de una fiesta. ¿Tomaron? ¿Conducieronmientras borrachos? Ya no importa. Ya llegaron. Pero a veces me pregunto si su suerte se acabará algún día.  

1 de diciembre de 2015

Cuando la luna canta y el sol marchita,

encuentro tu sonrisa.
Cuando la sombras me aterran

Y las estrellas no brillan,

Tus palabras me iluminan.
Cuando la lluvia cae

Y el azul desvanece,

Tu abrazo permanece.
Cuando todo va mal,

Cuando todo va bien,

Mejor amiguito allí estarás.
Y cuando todo va mal

Y cuando todo este bien,

Nenito mío, allí estaré. 

August 6, 2015

The Subcumming 
The Snake slithers upon my soar throat. I gasp, 

But oxygen is beyond me, worlds away…

Day by day, Death draws near, long fingers grasp,

Claws sharpened, longing to slay its prey.
The Raven slaugthers pages, uncaring,

As I stare with an inside flood of pain…

I scream. No one hears. The Raven smirking, 

Leaves the book, tattered… I whither in vain.
Hours I cry. Then, a mighty light shines.

A Dove flutters and collects the fragments—

Silvery, warm matter creates gold vines

Uniting the once shattered, lost statements.
Happy tears fall, and I let the Snake press

I peacefully enter eternal rest.
Theme: The theme of a poem is dark and happy at the same time. As the narrator faces a slow death, seeing as the Snake waits for the Raven and, then, for the Dove. This makes the mood darker, yet, at the end, it becomes happy. The Book, presumably of life, is put back together. This, however, does not mean life will continue, but rather that it will be remembered. Thus, the theme is “Death is good when one is remembered”. 

1 de agosto de 2015

Para concurso de la Landívar. 

La flor levanta sus alas al cielo

Pidiendo manantial celestial, grita

Duele cuando el cielo su vida quita;

¡Cuando la Muerte hace caer su velo!
Ahora queda atrás aquel modelo

En el que la rosa belleza irradia.

Y ya no hay hermosura que a ti compara

Sin versos me quedé para decirlo…
Pues vives cuando esta no; estás aunque ella no

Y aunque en el futuro cenizas seas,

Aquí por siempre te conservaré yo
Para que tú la vida siempre poseas,

Parte tengas de este corazón mío:

Aquel que por ti late aunque ni lo veas…