Never, never again? Not on nights filled with quivering stars, or during dawn's maiden brightness or afternoons of sacrifice?
Or at the edge of a pale path that encircles the farmlands, or upon the rim of a trembling fountain, whitened by a shimmering moon?
Or beneath the forest's luxuriant, raveled tresses where, calling his name, I was overtaken by the night? Not in the grotto that returns the echo of my cry?
Oh no. To see him again, it would not matter where in heaven's deadwater or inside the boiling vortex, under serene moons or in bloodless fright!
To be with him... every springtime and winter, united in one anguished knot around his bloody neck!
I was going ouy from my choking job and got off the choking bus to get on the stifling subway train that would transport my empty body into a larger vacuum still known as the center of Santiago. I began to mentally counteract all that frightening reality to the sacred atmosphere of the Great Reserve, where I left my best memories stored. Well, I ended up in a disgusting "Starbucks" writing once all my torments, while in the background heard again and again that amazing and dark song: "Sober" from Tool, feeling like being inside of that sordid sublimely video, caught between pipes of human flesh and monsters with sad remains of unachieved dreams...
"I will find a center in you,
I will chew it up and leave,
I will work to elevate you
Just enough to bring you down ... "
I think I've become a ghost, among all these ghosts citizens.
Today I wanted to give you this collection of social media posters of poetry, so you can share them totally FREE in your pages, they are already in the blog's Pinterest site and you can enjoy more of them there.
I really expect you like them, if you want more or would like quotes from another authors don't forget to write about it in the comments. This time I'm going to publish the posters related to the book "Heaven", wich is available in both paperback format and Kindle at Amazon.com.
Remember all the pictures used are my very own.
Let me know what you think, and thanks for reading!!
This is a special post conmemorating the memory of Michael Jackson, who passed away suddenly at June 25 th in 2009. I will never forget that day and eventhough people say time cures everything and stuff, I still feel exactly the same thing. Everyday I still miss Michael, his smile, his strength to conquer the world and his dreams of peace and love remain so hard in my heart. So this week he will take over this blog and I'm posting a few poems about him, this first one was written the Concert Film Director Johnathan D. Jones, and I am adding also a video were he recites it. Thanks to the page UK LOVES MJ for divulgating this magnificent piece of art.
IDOL LOST
There I was, sitting alone atop the staircase, a waterfall of tears.
My mind zombie like, as I could not fathom what my lens had just captured.
He was beautiful - an Angel on stage - the voice of perfection.
While I withdrew from my family and the world,
I opened my eyes to imagine a genius that took me away.
Through song, through dance, with a soft tone, and a welcoming spirit,
He was me – I shadowed his life.
Certain similarities made me believe I was better than the greatest.
One that stole my soul, replaced, the figure that didn’t live in my house.
Every step precise - every move sensational –
As a kid we all believe in magic.
This magician allowed me to never grow up.
Our talents were not the same. But I studied him.
Added much of the good in him to help make me better.
He was rhythm.
Far beyond the dance I saw him change the world
As a professional child he was on the back end of the chitterling circuit.
A few years removed from colored entrances, and yet love leapt from his lips.
Cultures and races the world over sang in chorus.
He was BAD!
The 1, The only 1,
The 1 human being that I truly saw how Great God is through his warmth
I could not afford what many had the fortune to buy, and see, but I saw him-
I saw him in my dreams.
He stood just behind my eyelids.
I stood in front of mirrors for hours and hours -
Trying to look-like him - I wanted to talk like him,
For a moment I wanted to be him.
Never has anyone captured me completely.
Inspired is'nt justice - empowered by his ascend
No Prince could compare to The King’s gifts.
Entertained family, during holidays with fully imitated shows.
For just those moments I would really become him.
I grew, my gifts came in slightly different packaging, but I stole some of his wrapping.
I absorbed his will and determination for perfection to consume everything I did.
I watched, I studied, I idolized.
When he went into orbit and walked the moon, I simply sobbed.
Sat on the steps so amazed that all I could do was cry.
Imperfection is human,
So there he was, so high above that missiles had to be made up to reach him.
But he wore a glove to protect himself from the disease of hatred, and misunderstanding.
I stored all the good he shared.
Never punished him for falling.
Like a toddler who brings us so much joy, I just wanted to help him up -
Just to see him walk again
To a rich man, eating from trash is strange.
He reached a stage never, imagined, by anyone else, so to a closed minded few -That was strange.
A face -A nose -A color –
As insignificant, as a bag, holding a gift that a child has always wanted.
He was punished.
Backs turned, stories told, while people ran off with the loot.
Not I - I, idolized him.
I’d wished to talk to him.
I dreamed of looking through rare videos, and pictures, together -
So stored in my heart that one day I would open my eyes to see my dream.
But as sudden as a blink, I stood in my room as he was returned to God.
My heart ached. My one dream to share time with him, had been swept away,
or so I thought
As magical as the first moment I saw him -
It was as if he left me with a gift.
Though hard, and not the way I wanted, I had my wish.
As he laid surrounded in gold, and song -
I sat with him as rare pictures appeared across the stage
Photography from the author, taken in Chilean Patagonia.
Heaven, the place where you could be with me, but you must depart now with a fallen angel, while I'm just a wounded angel.
And there, in the country of arrows, tears and stars are sparkling like lost lights holding each other.
I hear your voice searching for answers and making dead echo in my head, wich agonizes every minute without you.
I want to leave and start another world of meadows and rainbow, but you leave me here by my own in this land, and go with her to the amazing torment.
Over my head there are a thousand tornadoes cornered from you as chained skulls. There is no turning back, I still hear your voice, it's the singing melody before going to Hell ...
And the distressing beat incinerates my sword slowly, soon I will have no weapons to fight your demons; but my face remains unveiled without the mask of hate, revenge or past, to tell you how much I need you next to me and how much I've missed all these huge years.
I'm a girl and you're already an older man, but the days don't pass for both twin souls, we are equal before the mirror that reflects the perspective of the heart.
Look at your face in the pond and question who you are, your inner voice will scream the truth.
The justice of my sickle will destroy the darkness.
Milza López, extracted from the Poisoned Arrow and other texts, 2007.
The printed version of "Heaven" is now on sale at Createspace and Amazon!! The paperback is available for you to order while the Kindle version is totally FREE just for limited time, so don't miss the chance of having your favourite poems printed for you to read anywhere or to give others as a very emotional gift. More exciting news are coming as "Aurora and Asphyxia" has been fully translated to English, so very soon you will be able to download your FREE copy too!! By now I give you also this new poster that I hope you enjoy and share, made with a small extract of the book "Heaven".
Don't forget to follow the Pinterest account of the blog in order to get more promotional poster you can share in social networks or even Print and give as a card.
¿Do you really love quotes? As "Heaven" is Now FREE for Kindle in Amazon, I keep on composing original pictures with some extracts from the book, so you can enjoy and share with your friends. This time I've chosen some verses from the poem "Presage", wich is contained in the first chapter called "First Abyss". Hope you like it!!
Remember watch more of this compositions of visual poetry at the new Pinterest. Thanks!!
(After the pain, regret and screaming of a failed trap about the family dinner, after the sunshine braking the dark spirits, after the untold promises under the 9th cloud, after the average man who hid average secrets, after the storm explotions that froze our coffee, after the sad smile you melted into my dirty eyes always
there is a place in your heart to lay in peace...)
Feel the breathe, the sky
opening the power of colors.
I guess that phrase defines most of my entire life, I think I have spent structuring my very own Workshop were Loneliness is being built and modeled, gets defined with hands and attitudes, gets sculpted and notched with the thoughts, gets cultivated from iced seeds and gets water from the frost, gets painted in every picture and every peace of lost paper. Loneliness has been under-rated socially, like there is something wrong with it, like it lacks from beauty the hermit's heart that has built catapults to throw away his pain like dusty rocks over the horizon. The world is more lonely than ever. The screens embrace us and draw sounds that make us believe in distant ghosts.
Photograph by Milza López, taken in Santiago, Chile. Copyright 2014.
"I know still isn't over, but my inner duel is like you never arrived to my life. I am right here like the lonely bird that bites its own wings, get wet in the nest under the rain, in the stem under the canopy that has lost its foliage"
That's how begins my prose called "Workshop of Loneliness". I would love to translate from spanish and publish for free in Amazon, but I'm not sure if anyone would ever read it.
Soon, I am shooting Heaven, wich is my book of dark poems in Amazon. You can pre-order this book here.
Nice weekend for all these silent readers, and comment if you have something to say!
In these days I feel as if I was traveling, even when physically I am not, I surf with my soul separated. Is not that I believe in this soul thing, but is a kind of way to speak about what we have inside.
I dreamed about him, we were traveling in the very same train, and it was delicately decorated in vintage style, it was like traveling to past.
Obviously there was no happy ending then, everything went confused even though the train was traveling in a straight line, everything was overwhelming surely because I found him, and there was no real me, but an antique version of myself, like the train.
I was remembering everything when I woke up, I remembered in a so living way that I thought I didn't need to write it. When I closed my eyes again the dreams walked away in the middle of the smoke, opening the way once again to chaos and confusion of that place where we are and we are not.
The traveling partners that we are and not without even talk, so many years after the focused and reiterated habit. So much has happened in black and white from our arrogant portraits of our unlimited youth.
Now, no train is going to drive us to past, no platform will recieve our bodies, no car is the past that in some other lives we swore to lose, no treasure will go to float after the fall of our ship.
