Endless drought...

A hidden feeling unsought

Unnoticed

Unchecked

Growing fiercer with every moment

The dying breath of a newborn

The ending joy of a saddened soul

The final words in the preamble

A cursed blessing unspoken

The dry river flowing though veins

Wreaking havoc as it floods

With its empty arms

Hugging and choking an erotic passion

A lone soldier standing

The lost battle over

Hopelessly alone amidst the dead

Slowly bleeding endlessly

Secret windows...

'What do we see in the eyes of another?'

-The Puppet Master

It is not frequently that we take some time to gaze upon the depths of another person’s eyes. There is so much we’re missing…

We can speak to someone else for a long time, yet it is in our human nature to avoid getting captivated by the pitch black of someone else’s pupils for a single minute.

The eye is not just an organ living beings use to ‘see’. It is an orb which can help in the studying and observation of our surroundings, and also our prey.

Some eyes are a garden of hope for those who desire to be rescued. Others are darting children ever ready to capture everything around them in their web of memories. Some eyes are orphans begging for battles to finish. Yet, they can also be a watery grave for non-corresponded love. A myriad colors adorn these, fooling us like the shades in different blooming flowers. Thousands of muscle fibers help control the black hole, the empty valve we call the pupil. It is a solemn cavern leading to the unknown depths of our thoughts. It sometimes grows, just as uncontrolled desire and lust. It sometimes shrinks in aversion.

The eyes are the windows of the soul. They are an open library from which much can be learned. Each page telling of the joys, of the sorrows, the pain, the suffering, the bitterness and the humility that have shaped the realm each person is.

If one takes the time to look into that magical realm of infinite possibilities, countless poems will spring to mind as secrets even greater than the ocean’s become revealed.

So, in the end, each pair of eyes hide the treasure we all hide inside ourselves, ready for the daring adventurer to find it.

Lesson Learned: Taking time to gaze into someone else's eyes will teach you more than by reading a detailed journal.

Reality check...

I’ve been asked if I’ve seen God, the One, god or however one may choose to call Him, or him, or it…

I haven’t.

I haven’t heard his voice.

I haven’t touched him.

I haven’t tasted it.

How can I believe in Him then?

As a man I’ve traveled some. I have seen the icy reaches of the Arctic Circle. I've foraged for mushrooms in the Swedish woodlands. I have also enjoyed seeing dolphins jumping in the wild.

I have helped heal a leper's wounds. I have seen a child die with AIDS.

I have visited many a prisoner. I have made love over a hundred rose petals.
I have performed in front of an audience. I've met a royal family.

I have seen brain surgery being performed. I've seen people wake up from a coma.

I have delivered a baby, and I have also seen death in the face.

I've seen the World. I've seen the hurting, and I've also hurt myself time and time again with my own stupidity.

I have also found love.

I have seen hope in the faces of the ill, sadness in the faces of those who suffer, joy in the ones who live…

I have never seen pain. I have seen people hurt, but I have not seen pain itself.

I haven’t heard it.

I haven’t touched it.

I haven’t tasted it.

Does pain, then, exist? People claim they have felt God in their hearts, lives or even minds. Who am I to judge them?

To each his own beliefs.

For all I know, there must be a being, a higher power up there somewhere. If I believe it or not it won’t make him more or less real.

Lesson Learned: So I choose to believe: God, just as pain, is a matter of faith.

Café vertido...

El collage en la pared de exposiciones de aquel mórbido hospital captaba mi atención, pero más lo hacía aquella foto donde me veía a mí mismo desde lejos; una foto clandestina a blanco y negro donde yacía sentado en una acera, tomando un café junto a una guardia de seguridad anciana y una niña.

'La Humanidad en la Medicina' titulaba aquella foto…


El rugir de autos viejos no era mucho más molestoso que el humo expedido por los mismos. Mi bata en pocos minutos dejaría de ser blanca para tornarse gris. Cualquier pensamiento frívolo alejaría mis pensamientos del estrés diario al que estaba constantemente expuesto.

Cruzaba la calle para comprarme el tan adictivo café, mi único vicio, al menos asi lo veía. 'Buenos días doctor' las palabras provenian de una mujer de edad avanzada, su pelo teñido de un color vino añejado, las raíces blanquecinas asomadas en su cabeza.
La respuesta a penas escapó de estos labios que, quién sabe si por compromiso en esos momentos, sonrieron. Ocupado llegué hasta el estante donde compraría el tan codiciado tesoro liquefacto.

De regreso con varios cafés en las manos decidí pasar por aquel mismo rincón donde sentada estaba la guardia, como un viejo resignado esperando la muerte que no acaba de avecinarse. Sus ojos cansados observaban una pequeña niña que se le acercaba curiosa. Esa misma criatura que, por no tropezarme con ella traté infructuosamente de esquivar, vertiendo dos de los cuatro envases que llevaba.

En vez de continuar mi camino decidí servir un momento como ciudadano responsable y recoger aquel desastre. Mientras lo hacia, escuchaba la niñita preguntar a la mujer ‘Como te llamas?’

‘Josefina’ respondió.
‘Te ves cansada’ agregó la diminuta.
‘Lo estoy’
‘Por que?’
‘Por el trabajo’ añadio la mujer, que con toda calma contestaba a la criatura inquisitiva.

‘Por qué trabajas? De donde vienes?’ con más rapidez preguntó, deseando saciar mil curiosidades.

La mujer comenzó a contarle de su procedencia, de cómo había venido ilegalmente desde la República Dominicana. Contó de cómo tuvo que luchar contra un hombre maltratante, de cómo fue abusada en el pasado. Relató de sus hijos, del que murió enfermo, del que mataron, del que abandonó el hogar. Habló de que estaba sola, de cómo habia sido rechazada para mil trabajos, de cómo solo podía ‘servir’ a los demás. Habló además de cómo superó todo aquello, como dejó de planchar ropa, de cocinarle a otros, de limpiar casas y de como al fin habia, ya cansada, alcanzado una posición mejor, a su entender, aquella de Guardia de Seguridad en un hospital de mala muerte.

Aquella guardia de seguridad olvidada e ignorada, aquella mujer cuya vida contada jamás ganaría un Oscar. Esa mujer valiente que vivía sola y agotada y apreciaba lo que había logrado, mientras nosotros cubiertos de mierda además de nuestros uniformes.

Terminé sentado a su lado, dando mi café como ofrenda. ‘Tenga, gran mujer, muchísimas gracias’

‘Las gracias se la debo a usted, doctor, por el café’ replica ella sonriendo.
‘No mujer, usted me acaba de abrir los ojos como libro alguno jamás hizo’ contesté marchandome a mi trabajo.



Lección Aprendida: Escuchar por un minuto a una persona ignorada puede cambiar tu vida.

Sub-zero...

Woke up lost amidst the fog of this dank, cold jail

A frigid prison with no bars, a quiet place with no walls

Somewhere where no movement can be seen

For the life I perceive only in my own breathing



The eyes slowly turning into deathly icicles

The heart a large glacier about to collide

With even a ghost ship if it would happen to pass

Now even that would be merciful



Just as death reaches life with its own cruel hands

It sinks its nails in the depths of the soul

And possesses the heart of those who dreamt

To affirm its sovereignty in the throne of despair



How I wish to believe in magic

If I could only cast a powerful spell

But even inside the druid circle where I stand

Not even imaginary friends will come



Can't cry anymore, can't shed a tear

For fear the cold will freeze it in place

Turning it into a permanent memory

Of these times I hope will disappear someday



The only one I see is badly wounded

It lies in the chilly surface of a frozen lake

I'll carry her to the safest place I can

To hide her safely in hopes she'll make it



Don't leave me, stay around

I'll give my own life away to save you

"I'll never leave your side

For I'm your Soul and we are one"

Lesson Learned: 'A flower will never bloom in winter' -myself

Caterpillar's fate...

Why do we spend so much time thinking? Why do we, by our own human nature, sometimes just become spectators in our own lives?

Don't let your life pass you by.

See what's around you. Smile at others. Help when there's need. Laugh to enjoy living. Live, for there's only one life.

The sky may seem dark. Even when you might feel you're sitting at the dinning table together with the Lady of Sorrow and the Knight of Tears, be filled with hope. Be like a child, who has fun wherever he might go to, whatever the circumstances.

Be wise.

'Just when it though its world was at an end, the caterpillar became a buttefly'

Lesson Learned: Life is only one, so live it to its fullest...intelligently.

Celestial bodies...

Amidst the vast darkness in the heavens at night a bunch of little white specks sparkle, calling the attention of those who dare to dream...

To a few they are small holes bore in the blackness from above, through which God's light escapes to illuminate us. They are The Humble Believers.

To others they are sparkling crystals of singular beauty and hope. Those are The Hopeless Romantics.

Some see the souls of the departed watching from above in them. They are the Lonely Melancholics.

To some they are massive, luminous spheres of plasma which form galaxies if put together. These are The Easily Forgotten.

To me, however, each star represents a memory of those who have touched my heart in a good way. They represent the ones who have marked me, who have helped me in my personal quest for wisdom and growth.

Orion's head is David's star, after that friend from college who helped me boost my confidence, after he who accepted me always with his arms wide open.

Orion's left shoulder is Darren's star, my Canadian friend who helped me accept myself without regrets, him with always an optimistic attitude, a joke, and a big smile waiting for me to see it.

Orion's right shoulder is Andrej's star, after my old friend from the former Yugoslavia, the first man I ever saw shedding a tear for our separation. Bless you in the heavens within God's embrace, my friend.

Somehow I know that in the future, even when I lose my memory I will be able to look up to the sky and see those shining little spots. With that thought I will then tell my grandchildren

'I don't even know what they are, I don't know how they got there, but something I will always know is that those little things up there mean a lot to me'

Wind's mercy...

People are like waves, coming and going in the oceans of our lives, moved by the unpredictable winds of time; and yet only a few ever reach the sandy shores of our lives and leave a mark to be remembered forever
-myself

This is one of those days. It's one of those days when things happen that make you sit down, relax, and think about the past.

I've had a good life, I've made a lot of friends, and I regret little. Most people say they regret nothing...bullshit to me, they just won't admit it. I do regret a few things, and those little things have helped me learn and become wiser. Those little details have opened my eyes more than once, and have in many ways made me a better person.

I know where I am today, and I believe I've been blessed in countless ways. The unpredictable cards dealt in the hand your life holds will not determine your future, it is how you play them.

Lesson Learned: The wind might take me far away, will give me strength, will also dwindle and fade away. It will disappear from underneath me at times, then lift me up again. But, no matter what happens, I will make the best of it...