Silent screamsCrossing the threshold of this multiform planet.Silent screams6 years ago in Urban & Spoken Word More Like This
What I see?
What I see between the dust and fog?
shapes that you draw in darkness,
faces that you carve into the air..
Am I perhaps to hell?
Continuing my journey...
Between arid scrubs and old trees find my bed.
Screams wildly wind.
And behold the old leaves that perform
In a real dance of death.
I rest house waiting for someone to save me
From this immense, eternal solitude.
Let me walk barefoot among the maze of your mind
and absorb the deep heat.
Fall to pieces sooner or later this fears,
that I have painted him..
on my gestures.. on my hands..
Everything I have is my soul that will be able to rebound me..
Scratching each resistance.
The game of ignoranceWe feel the life with a touch of cold, mechanical,The game of ignorance5 years ago in Spoken Word More Like This
not to be sucked into the vortex of the inevitable
fatuous and hypocritical sentimentality.
This is the description of a selfish thought.
This is what my father has tried to inseminate in my mind from my birth.
Is unrealistic to expect to find sincerity in an embrace never had.
Is childish and stupid to think that the correct perception of things
come out of the mouths of those who gave you life.
Thanks for making me feel and to continue
To make me feel so inadequate.
You are my strength.
Sad RealityAnd we are here, inert.Sad Reality5 years ago in Spoken Word More Like This
Waiting for nothingness that covers us, we create.
Inevitably we fall again under the same, identical holes,
We walk the same filthy streets,
We breathe the same muddy air,
The eye rests on the same spewed places ...
The impression that everything has changed,
Now it is invariably and certainly will
In future only be an unnecessary appearance...
The last of the things that I want, is to fill
My whole mind of shit ...
Yet it seems absolutely
Impossible, since it is always and everywhere
Horribly, exhaustively and
Invariably this shit, I say.
The only thing I have to do to survive,
Is to get the "smile of television"
Printed in the face ...
The face of a "career manager" in the daytime,
Then take off the mask foul night
To breathe my soul,
Give relief to my being.
It is a paradox ....
I always go in search of places neutral
But it's as if I should ask to speak to a blade of grass ...
Is how the world works, baby.