The Distance Between

January 24, 2015

You say you would walk my distance
You would hitch your bags
To that wagon, heart and soul,
and march down the endless road
To that horizon of mine
With its glittering diamond of stars;
You want to reach up the hill there
And hold in your hands, the clouds
That whisper and whisk above
Twisting and changing with every day.
You say you are willing to close the distance
Even if it is during the darkest of marches
When the wind is cold, and the only blanket
Is yours, there is none of mine.
You say the distance, the distance between us
Is shorter than I believe.
You believe the distance can be quelled
And together we will entwine our paths
To create that single road
Leading into the horizon
Far into that inevitable horizon.

Aah! My love, so you say
Little knowing the distances,
Both yours and mine, are
Infinite and unconquerable
Unmet and indefinite
That run only in parallel
Sharing just the mighty sky above.


Ode to New York

January 19, 2015

You are…

mistress of dreams,
tyrant of days,
clockwork of toil,
wound up and coiled
you leap at dawn,
a tiger, from the between the rushes
of cold concrete
that bathed in the golden sun
of morning and evening
line the great wash
that carries the flotsam
and detritus, memories
hopes and dreams,
from the slain of the day
washed up and
drained up,
leaving along the pathways
the savage scent and carcass,
like spoor, that is
feasted upon
by the tigers that lurks
deep down in all of us.

such is your myth
of jungle and fear
of crowning deceit
and unsatiated hunger
and yet i see you
in that setting sun,
when rushes darken,
when lost and alone,
when you seem so fragile
just a land,
teetering on the edge,
Almost falling into the sea of myth,
barely holding on,
by a sliver to the great
ruddy, muddy continent
to whom you belong.


Have you seen
Have you truly seen
the snow the stars the felt steps of the breeze
Have you touched
really have you touched
the plate the bread the face of that woman you love
so much
Have you lived
like a blow to the head
the flash the gasp the fall the flight
Have you known
known in every pore of your skin
how your eyes your hands your sex your soft heart
must be thrown away
must be wept away
must be invented all over again

– Julio Cortazar

The Sculptor

January 12, 2015

I invented you in my dreams
I shaped you in the marble of verse
With verbs for tools,
Metaphors for water,
And the endless quarry of memory
To craft you.
And I took the flow of the air,
The oxygen of your presence,
As my only sustenance,
To carve from the lump
Of hard rock,
That delicate poem of you.

No matter, the days have passed
And the stains have rotted through;
A hole exists where your eyes
Once flickered
And the smoothening edges
Are the relentless work
Of time wearing away
The chiseled words;
Callused lump of darkened rock
That once called out to
That delicate heart of you.

Poem by Julio Cortazar

January 3, 2015

Don’t leave me alone in front of you,
don’t set me off to the bare night,
to the razor-edged moon of crossings,
to being nothing more than these lips that drink you.
I want to approach you from you yourself
with that movement that your body unleashes,
that it spreads beneath the wind like a black canvas.
I want to reach you from you yourself,
seeing you from your own eyes,
kissing you with that mouth that kisses me.
It cannot be that we are two, it cannot be
that we are


ART & Thoughts


Look, I don’t ask much,
just your hand, to hold it
like a little frog who’d sleep there happily.
I need that door you gave me
for coming into your world, that little chunk
of green sugar, of a lucky ring.
Can’t you just spare me your hand tonight
at the end of a year of hoarse-voiced owls?
You can’t, for technical reasons. So 
I weave it in the air, warping each finger, 
the silky peach of the palm
and the back, that country of blue trees.
That’s how I take it and hold it, as 
if so much of the world
depended on it, 
the succession of the four seasons, 
the crowing of the roosters, the love of human beings.

julio cortazar

Happy new year

Mira, no pido mucho,
solamente tu mano, tenerla
como un sapito que duerme así contento.
Necesito esa puerta que me dabas
para entrar a tu mundo…

View original post 443 more words