First of all I would like to thank the lovely words I receive in comments and e-mails from those who read my poems. Some of you I met through this space, and even if I haven´t met your acquaintance yet, I sincerely hope to do so very soon.
We are all passengers in the same old ship, we share so much and yet pretend we are above or below decks in regards to our fellows. We are not, and through Art it is that Culture progresses, as someone wiser and older than myself shared in her Manifesto "Active Resistance to Propaganda", I´m talking about Dame Vivienne Westwood. I translated such Manifesto to the Spanish language a few days ago, and it will be published in Galera Magazine for the benefit of those who don´t understand the language of the Bard.
Today I will share a sentimental piece, which is unlikely in me. I rarely share poems inspired by my personal life and the sentiments I feel towards my life partner and companion. But there is always the exception, and since I thought I had lost him for good due to my foolish ways, I hereby present it to the World.
A nice energetic Chinese ginger tea should be sipped through each paragraph to greet the Year of the Tiger. This is my personal recommendation.
Blessed Be
Lady Astor
………………………………………………………
Everything has an ending
Endings being bitter
Tearing our hearts
Drowning our souls with tears.
You look at all the pieces.
The puzzle of the memories
Comes to life.
And then you see the first smile,
The very first kiss.
You were falling in love.
We were young and beautiful,
Full of hope.
And the river of pure life
Was strong and its waters deep.
The little face full of wonder,
As I saw the very place
I had dreamed of all my life – Piccadilly Circus.
And it was the most precious gift
Given to me by anyone.
And it was all you.
I became your wife,
Your partner.
I lost my innocence
In a foreign land.
We fought together
Against forces much stronger
And far wealthier than us.
We lost and we won – sometimes.
But maybe what we lost,
Was that hope we had from the start.
And the river dried
And the bridges were broken
So we couldn’t hear or see
The heart on the other shore.
We were too naïve
We thought love conquers all.
But the World…
Oh, the World isn’t built upon love!
The World is built upon blood,
It’s built upon blood and coin.
So we each fail.
And the root of failure
Is the fabric of our fears.
Our haunting childhood fears.
In me it’s envy.
Fear of being derelict.
Lack of trust.
I miss my father,
Who is too crazy,
Even crazier than my mother.
I become weak
And disappointed
With a life far too normal.
And I really hate getting up.
A job I dislike so much
Brings back resentment.
I have no time to live
I have no place to be me
Then I cease to enjoy life.
I want the time that you have!
Days are monotonous,
They keep piling up.
Until they become months…
And I keep getting up early,
While you keep waking up late.
God is the ultimate Joker.
Today I understand The Comedian.
I have everything a person could want,
But nothing I want.
And I just lost
The only person I have ever loved.
………………………………………………………
writing and poetry
