Friday, June 19, 2009

Chlorine Is More Chemically Reactive Than Argon

Idea POEMS VilariƱo




Love in the shadows from the pain


love
I'm calling from the well of memory suffocating
nothing to serve me and you wait. I'm calling

love

the destination and the dream of peace


I'm calling to voice the body

with
life with everything I have and that I have
desperately


with weeping with thirst

air like you're drowning and I like you're light

and I died. From a blind night

from oblivion
from hours in closed

just no tears and no love I'm calling

like death

love and death. +++++++++++++++++++++



Letter II

You are far and south
there are four.


Lying in your chair leaning on the coffee table in your room
pulled
on a bed
yours or someone you wish to delete

I am thinking of you not on those seeking
with you what I want.
I'm thinking an hour ago you and maybe half

not know.

When the light is over
know who are the nine

stretch out the quilt I will
black suit and pass me the comb. I'll go to dinner


is clear.


But at some point I will return to this room
'll throw me in bed and then you remember


do I say my desire to see you looking at me

your presence of man I need in life

be made as far you get in the afternoon
night is already being

single
only thing I care in the world.



+++++++++++++++++++++ When nights and mine ...


When my nights and ignored and intact
without friction. When

aromas without
mixtures inviolate. When I


cool star and not a bunch of flower colors.

And when my life
my hard life in solitude

a slow drop down
always willing and always sustained

charging, filling
herself, trembling, rushing

brightness and back into the river . No longer trembling


no light falling dimly.


+++++++++++++++++++++

Oblivion

When a soft mouth kiss mouth
sleeping as dying then
sometimes when overshoot
lips and eyelids full of desire
fall as silently as consent to the air, your skin
night calls
furry warmth and mouth kissed in his ineffable joy
night calls, too.

Ah, silent nights of dark moons soft
night long, rich, cross-doves,
in a hand-made air, love, tenderness given
nights like ships ...

Then, in the high passion, when you kiss
know ah, too, unabated, and is now the world will
becomes a distant miracle, you opened
lips still deep summers,
abdicated his conscience,
that he is finally forgotten the kiss passionately
and a wind bare it temples,
is then, the kiss, descending eyelids
and shudders the air with a hint of life, and shudders

yet it is not air, the beam burning hair, velvet
now voice, and sometimes the illusion
populated and deaths in abeyance.


+++++++++++++++++++++

That

My tiredness
my anguish

my fear my joy my humility

my nights all my nostalgia

year 1930
my common sense
my rebellion. My disdain


my cruelty and neglect my dismay my


my agony my tears my heritage

irrevocable and painful in the end my suffering

my poor life.


+++++++++++++++++++++

Afternoon

Bodies lying,
infinite bodies, concrete, oblivious to the cold that will
flooding, filling slowly. Bodies
golden arms, knotted warmth
forgetting the shadow now shaken, detainee
expectantly, ready to emerge that shields the skin
blind. Forgotten

white bones also claiming that not every life is a dream,
more faithful to the way the skin, the blood
, mercurial, momentary. Bodies lying
,
bodies subjected happy specific infinite
...
emerge happy children, moist and fragrant, young
victorious, standing, as his instinct,
women in the highest point of tenderness,
is likely, stand, talk, talk
your mouth, that one day broken up,
are incorporated, they look with timeless looks.



0 comments:

Post a Comment