Hidden

hidden_by_larafairie

Hidden by larafairie

Under these bandages
There is no pretty realities,
There is no merry laughs,
Innocent afternoons,
Nor livelings alive.
Under these petals,
My hope is waning,
My youth is drowning,
The candid decrepit,
Perfection a lie.
Under these rags,
There is a creature that weakens,
There is the sadness that witnesses,
Passions ethereal,
Me wanting to die.
Under these encrypted marks,
Truths that are hidden,
My lust forbidden,
La vie est un songe
J’habite dans mes songes
Unearthed delight.

 

 

 

Novelties…

FullSizeRender

It’s a dark, rainy day around, and I’ve managed to come back to the feelings, to the old stories, and write them down, not to forget… Paper and ink, they do not forget. Recently those bright and green Irish summer days come and go (not today though)… but the actual summer (and its offering of liberty and deliverance) is almost gone. It is, however, a good time… a lighter time for my head and mind. I can breathe, limping from time to time, but I  C A N   B R E A T H E  by the virtue of simple magics, that were at hand for so long, yet neglected by my pride … Today, I just want to say I can breathe, and I can scream, and I can cry without dying inside, and I can sing, and I can run, and I can dream without dying inside… It was always dying, losing a battle against no one, gaining nothing. Today, I am breathing, and that is all that matters…

For the today’s feeling, I prescribe as the music dictates… with Ashes by Pallbearer

In fragments …

Three sisters

Picture by Ciro Galluccio

Write in white my mind
Tell me how, tell me know
Stories and origins of the mind
Let the ink cross my hand
Alas! Do not let it dry.
My days, they go by gallows songs
Today by you, on the morrow, on the go…

And I cry a wordless litany
For those instants crossing my way
Breaking my embrace, cleansing my slate.
And then, my voice is reduced
To the empty, skilful words of my eyes
Rapid reconstructions of fragments
Some groundless, artificial, corrupted
Others, broken into silence.
And then, my spirit forgets the solace
Of the justice found in truth
Captured in the commodity of the isolation.

The sweetness of touching many walls,
Yet breathing nothing in.

26 February 2017

***

 

Litanies of the heart I

 

hands

10 August 2016

Withered heart, hardened skin,
Time marches on
Dragging our bodies to the Sun.

              The day begone, bygone the charm.

Sweetened lips, your tender youth,
You run afar
Hauling us off to the bell jar.

              The day begone, bygone the charm.

Saddened sleuth, forgettable kin,
We bleed you away
Memory in slumber, will never neglect.

              The day begone, bygone the charm.

Maps on strips, vigorous embrace,
Grasping my heart
The day begone, bygone the charm.

              The day begone, bygone the charm.

And the world will turn, your eyes intact,
Stories resembling yesterday’s lives.
And the Valkyries will sing no stars aligned,
My lineage lost, your urges denied.

              The day begone, bygone the charm.

Photo by Nicola Davison Reed

Old new beginnings…

Dear anywho! With no other pretension other than motivate myself to write, I am bringing my old blog (arbolsobrelacolina.blogspot.com) here! I will probably post in both, at least for the near time coming… while I decide which one is better to keep 🙂

corrib

I took this picture recently while having a well-needed walk by the river in the town I live. The light had a life on its own, it was like showing me where to follow! I love the intense green in the ivy leaves.

 

War with(out) you

26 July 2016

323f7-blessed_be_thy_hate_by_kittehness

Blessed be thy hate, by Katya-h

 

Where are you now?
Hiding in the back of your word
Caressing other people’s minds
Suffering your faith,
laughing at mine.

Will you send word to me?
Of your heaven’s delight
Of the secrets of your Order
Of your days’ glories,
My hardship, divine.

Are you keeping company at night?
My soul wishes you an Irish blessing
In other, the darkest eyes
Giving you warmth and solace,
The most ancient desire.

Will you spare me touch and vision?
My eyes repeating in loud voices
Each of your wee lullabies,
Singing compulsive odes
Of duties, treason and your heart.

Will I succumb deranged?
Worlds colliding in my blinking eye
Division reviving my deepest ambition:
Your side, that is battling
My memories, dwelling of mine!

Easy come, easy go


16 July 2016

Tristan and Isolde, John William Waterhouse


You’ve tempted me in a life declaration
With your ancient enlightenment
And I crave for Sophia in your embrace,
In that very gone moment.
You called me through blood maps
With your senses thirst
And I fell for the ancient hoax
In the starvation of my ghost.
You’ve fled through the morning mist
With your verb hostile
And I died for a second in the draught
In the perennial desire.
You’ve planted a seed of destruction
With the lenient touch
And I am burning alive in the silence,
In this loathsome void.
And you continue to plant those desires
With the skill of a cavalier…
And I await in the stillness of my shadows
War manifesto or the pettiest of your tales.
 

The tear beneath

13 July 2016

 

It is painful a laugh
At the drowning scene
It is torture to love
At the dawn of the Young age.
And to bleed is a lonely labour
For tears are only for thee
And to pretend is an empty candour
When the scuffle is beneath.
It is a dreadful vision
Blind bullets, bitter concord
It is that crystalline prison
Comfy home, draining patrol.
Here I am lost in a garden of my own
For the dark dimensions are endless
And impossible we roam alone in our blood
No touch, no consolation, no caresses.

Recipe of the Life


6 July 2016

Illustration Endless cycle by G1mm1ck


I was the daughter of the Sun
Running blindly to the Darkness
Innocent songs of wishes, desires
Guiding this will in sin, the hunter.

I was a disciple of Artemis
Running wild into Fierceness
Loud elegies of vision, faith
Growing this will in regret, the repentant.

I was a wanderer of the Forest
Running relieved from the pain
Penitent eulogies of love, kindness
Draining my will with blood, the druid.

I am an Alchemist of the Moon
Roaming blissfully in my surrender
Lustful odes of my Nature, ambitions
Making my will alive, the unknown.


Of the Lost & the Found

13 July 2016

I burn absolute as the Zero
Paths of decay against the light
And you cry, you cry.
I smile as evil as the fierce Nature
Surrender to me in your delight
And you shine, you shine.
I lose myself in the crowds and the bodies
Broken pieces of my life in need
And you weep, you miss.
I come back home, prodigal and yielding
Wanting the strips of my kindred lost
At peace you, here at the West, them on the East.

Illustration Through the looking-glass by Agnes Cecile

 

El silencio en tu recuerdo

17 mayo 2012

http://greyguardian.deviantart.com/art/Drifters-204901254

Es el silencio que mata
me devuelve a un mínimo estado,
a la más pura debilidad,
a los más arraigados temores.
Es tu rostro que veo
perdido en el Tiempo que rechacé,
atrapado en recuerdos construidos,
entre burbujas de polvo,
en los agujeros de mi memoria.
Y aunque es mi egoísmo quien hoy llora,
se queda muda la ciega Señora
porque no quiere creer
el testimonio que ante mí se revela:
¡tanto dolor en pago, en pago tanto dolor!
Las cuentas no se borran con los años
y te veo pagar, pagar con sangre,
mientras el alma no puede más que llorar,
y el cuerpo, el cuerpo menguar.
Se hacen duros estos labios,
y el corazón enciende la carrera
tratando de no quedarse atrás,
pero nadie se queda contigo
y el cuerpo sigue el chueco andar,
y aunque quiera regresar, allá va, él va.

Illustration by Greyguardian

 

"With just the door ajar"

***

 

Respira, cuenta hasta tres…
Cierra los ojos, bajar el velo
El ansia, el silencio
Dejados con él.

Vive, grita a las tres…
Olvida el alba y palabras
Incrustadas, cocidas
Dentro de esta piel.

Olvida, entierra mis voces….
En tu cielo, continuo respiras
Dueño del todo, la nada
Tu voulez me embêté.

En tus historias, mitos contrarios…
Habitas fuera de mi valor pasajero
Déjame impío, transgresor
Ideas fugándose en mis delirios.

Entregado en tu cordura…
Orden del alba, héroe del caos
Cristales de mi alma, la tuya
Huérfanos del ansia última.

En las letanías de mi pasión
Sumiso jerarca, altar de tu Saga
Te pierdes, te marchas
Legado decadente de tu voz.

***