Mil Notas Escondidas

Born in the tropics, carrying the moisture of volcanic soil in my skin I sprout forth the richness tilled onto me

[holystics]

Almond Eyes

Take these almond eyes 

Shivering with the threat of a cry 

Disrobed of their shine, strained 

Red during this drought of happiness 

I give in them to you a truth unshelled 

From the fruit of my silence, peer into 

Them to break the violence of desire

Take these almond eyes 

so you can see the world as I might 

So you can see the eternal night

The unforgiving darkness, the 

procession of the martyrs 

So your mind can taste the suffering 

offered to me constantly 

[holystics]

Croquembouche

I built it up again 

a croquembouche of 

wispy dreams 

lacing their delicate strings 

around the memory of the confetti

that exploded from your laugh 

that paraded down from the cries 

your ribs felt as you gripped your stomach

trumpeting to stop because your back 

could not handle your glee 

i added more to it

raised a babel of memories 

all speaking different moods

each one a bubble blinking 

blue and pink

sweet and fear 

flash and sit 

our first kiss, my first tear 

your face satiating the emptiness 

i added all the puff pieces 

the sappy good morning kisses

the blink that revealed mischief  

the lake behind your eyes where once my soul 

went to drink, where i noticed for the first time that your eyes had pink rims 

i added all the sweet things 

the good morning kiss

the ferocity of your pink lips 

coloring all my words glee 

our hands tied at a bench, your head cradled under the flutter of my chest 

who knows how long this delight will last

who knows what occasion it decided to grace 

in my mind

who knows why you cried that night

why i decided to turn into a wall 

why we both ended up with ice in our eyes 

why our lips only met to slap the silence 

why have i built this monument that cones in your absence 

[holystics]

Unrequited Love

A draft shivers through the house

murmuring as it glides over your thigh 

let him know or let him go 

And your muscles rise 

seven years of phantom dreams 

of anchored feelings, i am tethered 

to your being 

how hopeless I feel to play a game of 

theatre with you

to smile when you smile

to laugh when you cackle

to wait until your heavy breaths

lull me to sleep 

to imagine myself resting 

in the valley of your chest 

each passing day more stakes

nail my being to your shadow 

inside I wither and crumble 

the windchimes toll to let me know 

that should I continue on this road

i will face a dangerous storm 

how can I leave this path he follows

even the biting bitterness of his sweat 

enthralls me 

even his dismissiveness is a calling 

If only you knew how deep the root

of this love has grown 

how it has warped itself around my core 

how it has perforated my soul

how it has left me tattered

how i feel like a torn flag flapping 

amid ruins 

but you will never love me. 

You will never the see the dawn 

in my smile, you will never hear 

an angel’s choir in my laughter 

You will never feel the same 

warmth you give 

i will only ever be 

him not she 

but this longing in my soul 

has now sailed aimlessly into the sea 

and i cannot reverse its course 

it went seeking gold towards your horizon

if only it could know 

that once there 

it will find nothing but coal.

[holystics]

The mOOn

The moon echos tonight with a tune that wails and prevails over the gushing river of cars 

It stutters in its cries, each sob a chopper cutting through the sky 

When the moon tires of its existence and cannot make anymore marks upon its body 

It will sing out a melody of imploding light 

And it's tears will float to become stars and now crumbled and humbled it will break apart and shoot across space, very far from where it first felt hurt and was harmed. 

[holystics]

Impractical advice for living

Try to sprinkle happiness inside your potent despair, to mist in some clarity so you don't lose your sense 

Of directions we can talk all night

About where to go where to run we can question if the road ends during the wild hunt 

I believe that digression is second nature to adventure and that my feet were meant for running not standing waiting for the seasons to envelope me

 I want to chase an eternal fall twirl down to catch a breeze that carries me home

Wherever that is 

Whoever that is

Whatever state that may be

Even death. 

[holystics]

Title: Untitled #WK

Color me a pretty thing, brush my hair until

its clean and presentable for the world to see

if it pleases you it please me ( i suppose ) 

sure, clarify and brighten my skin 

put down the cream, lay it on me 

convince me that beauty is within 

but only if the casing is clear and polished

and able to reflect back an image and not absorb it

[holystics]

my little Home

My little home 

My little corazón 

Tucked inside a nest of clouds 

Warm with the glow of memory

Soft with the swirl of love 

My little home always in my head 

But so far from my grasp, an imagined 

Place or a place forlorn so far from a home 

That is breathed into existence with the morning fog, shrouded in smoke 

[holystics]

Con titulo

a veces quiero compañero

morirme en un suelo de nube-espinas

caer tras columnas de girasoles

hasta que, mi cuerpo, bese el piso

y lo roce con mis colores

[holystics]

Where do broken people go cry? In LA all the good crying spots are gone.

[labete-du-gevaudan]

The Ya-Te-Veo (“I-See-You”) is a proposed man-eating tree that can be found in Africa and Central America. The above drawing is a famous one done in 1887 of the Central American version of the plant. It is typically described as having appendages like “many huge serpents in an angry discussion, occasionally darting from side to side as if striking at an imaginary foe”. It is thought that this plant does not specifically hunt humans, but will not retract when given the chance to devour one. 

[holystics]

The Grandchildren of War

We pick up the pieces Of the reconstructed ruins Falling apart, never quite put back Together, how it all belonged Where it all belonged

Somewhere in there, In the chasm of thought, Lie the memories now transcribed Into the geology of the land

From which we learn history and the source of our cries

[holystics]

Güacalchía

tell me once more how the mockingbird died how you constricted its throat and silenced the world

how you broke its flight by trying to create straight lines in its wings how hot a pot of water must be so that its feathers relax from its body

tell me once again why the mockingbird died how you lured it out its nest, how you smashed the still warm eggs against the roof of your mouth how it was all necessary

teach me another night the way to cut across the abdomen the throat how to disjoint sockets from balls how to julienne mint and basil how to simmer the richest broth

convince me right now that what you said was true that the essence of essence is transpiration how everything is always trying to interact and grow more massive how mockingbird soup cures the mute how the essence of its song is preserved in the broth and that is how you learned to sing and talk

[holystics]

Untitled No. 405

The street dark like ruby red lipstick

Smeared across your cheek

As you slid through the concrete

Gliding through traffic

The street winding 

Through your pain

You took every turn too sharp

To cut to be safe

Of everything

[holystics]

Pumice Kisses

Your lips always dry, always chapped felt like pumice stones against my skin But I reveled in the sensation Your stoned kisses gently scrubbed away from every inch of my body the years of hate, pain, sadness I had accumulated so much and you smoothed my edges round

[the-reading-nook]

[charlottewinslow]

[wnq-movies]

Some people can’t believe in themselves until someone else believes in them first.

Good Will Hunting (1997), Dir. Gus Van Sant (via wnq-movies)