Tool

Juguete

I am a tool
I was made to serve
Each little part of my being
is intricately designed
for that purpose

Then why do I feel?
Why am I able to ponder about this?
What is the meaning
of being conscious
of the rumbling stream
of my soul?

I heard a voice
not long ago
tearing a veil
"It was easier
that way"

The Clown

"Man, there was this clown, and he was a real happy guy, a real happy guy, he had all these greens and all these yellows and all these oranges bubbling around inside of him. And he had just one thing he wanted in this world, he just wanted to make people laugh, that’s all he wanted out of this world, he was a real happy guy

Let me tell you about this clown, he used to a raise a sweat every night out on the stage and just wouldn't stop, that’s how hard he worked. He was trying to make people laugh. He used to have this cute little gimmick where he had a seal follow him up and down a step-ladder, blowing Columbia Gem of the Ocean out on a B-flat scale Sears-Roebuck a model 1322 A plastic bugle, a real cute act, but they didn’t laugh, well you know, a few little things here and there, but not really, and he was booking out in all these tank towns, playing the rotary clubs, the Kiwanis clubs and the American legion hall; and he just wasn't making it, but he had all these wonderful things going on inside of him, all these greens and yellows and all these oranges, he was a real happy guy, and all he wanted to do was to make these people laugh, that’s all he wanted out of this world, to make people laugh, and then something began to grow, something that just wasn't good began growing inside of his head

You know, it’s a funny thing. Something began to trouble this clown, you know little things, little things once in a while would happen, that would make that crowd begin to move, but they were never the right things, like for example the time the seal got sick on the stage, all over the stage, the crowd just, just broke out, little things like that. And they weren't suppose to be in the act, and they weren't supposed to be funny. This began to trouble him, and it bothered him. And this little thing began to grow inside of him. And all those greens and all those oranges and all those yellows, they just weren't as bright as they used to be. And all he wanted to do was to make that crowd laugh, that’s all he wanted to do. There was this one night in Dubuque when he was playing at the rotary club. All these dentists, these druggists, all these postmen sitting around, and they were a real cold bunch, nothing was happening. He was leaving the stage when he stumbled over his ladder and fell flat on his face, just flat on his face. When he stands up and he’s got this bloody nose and he looks out at the crowd and that crowd is just rolling on the floor, he’s just knocked them flat out, this begins to trouble and even more. He begins to see something, he begins to see something

And right about here things began to change, but really change. Not the least of which our clown changes his act. He bought himself a set of football pads, a yellow helmet with red stripes, hired a girl who dropped a five pound sack of flour on his head every night, maybe twenty feet up. Oh man!, what a bit, that just broke them up every night, but not like Dubuque. And all those colors, all those yellows, all those reds, all those oranges, a lot of gray in there now a lot of blue. And all he wanted was to make this crowd laugh, that’s all he wanted out of this world. They were laughing alright, not like Dubuque, but they were laughing, And all the dough started coming in. He was playing the big towns. Chicago, Detroit, and then it was Pittsburgh one night. A real fine town Pittsburgh, you know. But three quarters way through his act, a rope broke, down came the backdrop, right on the back of the neck, and he went flat and something broke, this was it. It hurt way down deep inside, he tried to get up. He looked out at the audience, and man, you should’ve, you should’ve, you should’ve seen that crowd. They was rolling in the aisle. This was bigger than Dubuque. This was bigger than Dubuque. But this was the last one... this was the last one. He knew now. Man he really knew now. But it was too late and all he wanted was to make this crowd laugh, and they were laughing, but now he knew. That was the end of the clown. And you should have seen the bookings come in. Man his agent was on the phone for 24 hours. The Palladium, MCA, William Morris. But it was too late. He really knew now. He really knew. He really knew now. William Morris sends regrets."

Thread

Hidden photo
of sleeping hides
swiftly scanning
near the bed lies

two dark
forgotten eyes
live amongst
colorfull dyes

they want to rest
with no trace
knitting now
an eternal lace

surely beats
at it's own pace
not remembering
the last days

clear glass
now divides
what we thought
only in lies

without tears
without amuse
finnaly found
a fair truce.

Vertical

...then the doll doesn't want to dance
while strings get tight on it's neck
don't you want to move? why?
is the sharp ending giving you fear?
are your tired fingers drown by a tear?
is there a vulture sweating on your meals?
are the stars beaming through your skin?
is the blood on your head swiming
across the fields?

don't move, little one
surely a mask will find your place
on a crystal stand
and save your grains of sand
from the wind

Dream

I had a dream, and the dream was alive
the dream was growing like dying star
bigger and bigger, through threads it glides
I shared the dream with minds alike
a lot of words the dream inspired
eating the flows of the life inside
tentacles sprouting, touching, then die
a loving memory of the times afar
the dream had dreamt, inception ignites
infinite dreams the dream have had
it dreamt of me, it dreamt for miles
it dreamt of the masks that decay outside
the dream was big, as big as mine
the dream exploded, with barely a sign
as colours expand, swell and divide
the pieces we breath borrowing time
because the dream was dream, a dream to have
the dream I dream, a dream of lies.

Afar from the shore

Living doll full of sand
precarious sews across fingers
water only makes
the movements
heavy
so
slow
solely
for an unknown all-seeing eye
that makes the impossible
not that far away.

Upside down

Relatividad

One clear night I saw a falling star
I made a wish, before it went too far
I wished for this landscape to be true
that the star was falling from the big blue
not that the star was standing still
torn away from the sun's mill
and it could be capable to see
that the one who were falling was me

Covetous

The power of the symbols. How amazing.

Kill you

Just a game
not willing to play.
Just ourselves
afraid to complain.
Pages of unforgotten lore
swirl around your head
wrapping around your mouth
blocking your tearful eyes
grabbing your hands
that are moving in strange ways.

Trapped on your theorist cell
you cry
Belive me, the moans
always always echoes around
making me anxious.

How can I free you?
How can I tear my way apart
and hear your darkened voice?
Thick layers of paper
cover your skin...
I guess that the only way left
is to break you apart.

No-Man's Blues

Stay a litte bit longer...
before you go out to mars
just stay a little bit longer
I wont try to change your mind
Already know I can't protect you
when you search in those badlands

always loved your femenine side
even in the coldest moon
cruised through the scorching sun
can't you see it's all for you?
don't leave our venus alone
all the stars are getting blue

men to men they always thought
that's how the real love is
and you have bought their stupid lies
we can't forgive what you did
go away to the all-mans land
where the power of money rules

the girls know that you're coming back
like a dyke they'll reject you, Alice
until then, i'll sing your blues
sitting under the colorfull sky
patiently, my hair swing on the wind
singing the no-man's blues

My last day at the sea

Aquella vez...

Sometime, resting at the sea
I saw the one that cannot see
tearing away the reality that surpass
his little nose like a compass
something scary, something awful
the sky that day was so uncolorfull
the water got dry upon my feet
the squeaky sound of his closed theeth
my heart was so sad and blue
my feelings werent like those of you
I heard the sound of a aching soul
coming to me like the eyes of the owl
for a second, i felt like the blind
following a guide dog from behind
going to the hatred nest
of the one without rest
empathy with another being
not an easy task to be doing
a crack in my mind opened inside me
to be helpful or not to be
quite decision I had to make
what, ultimately, was my sake
bothering the hiding snake
but give back what i've take?
the black pearls that he always has
are now sleeping in my eyes
a gift not for the light-hearted
not fully free of the hatred
I took my sword, piercing like the truth
stood by him, waiting until his throath
pronounces my name


P.D.: Prohibido preguntar por que hago regularmente cosas tan elitistas como esta (si, me acaba de salir el enano fascista de adentro).