mi libre expresión

aww.. una conver con hele,, cada que hay algo de inspiración lo escribo y ella lo lee,, y opina

dios,, ya no se que pasa conmigo ,,

raul;

.

Los pájaros abren sus alas,
vuelan, trinan como siempre,
sus sombras aletean
sobre el gris del pavimento
Las nubes son mariposas grises
colgando de la esfera azul,
el perfume a tierra mojada inunda la atmósfera

Yo aún respiro, camino,
parece que voy solo
sin sombras que me persigan,
con un halo de paz en el alma,
y en mi mano la tibia sensación
de que me sostienes con dulzura.

Las hojas se asoman nuevas en las ramas,
la catalpa que tú mismo plantaste
es una sombrilla verde a la espera
de sus flores níveas y tupidas,
todo sigue su curso aunque vos ya no estés aquí,
pero vos estas aquí, aún en tu ausencia estás presente,
y verás las flores blancas con esa capacidad de asombro
que jamás te abandonó en tus años,
y seguirás tomada de mi mano
como antes, como ahora y para siempre.

Me saben tus labios
al dulce gusto del amor sincero
al almíbar del durazno maduro

que se deshace en la boca, jugoso

en los cálidos días de enero .

Me saben tus labios morados

a tierra fértil y húmeda,
tus labios color ciruela
dulcísimos cual uvas maduras.

Rozándolos apenas mi vida endulzas ,
me conviertes en un ser dócil,
ágil como gacela

tan liviano como pluma

y amado como ninguno.
.
Tus labios me saben

al elixir mágico de los cuentos
el mismo que al tomarlo te transforma,
en pájaro o rosa, mar embravecido,
o suave lluvia bondadosa

Tus labios saben a paz,

tus labios saben a vos,

y vos tenes el sabor de la vida plena

el sabor exacto,

preciado e inconfundible

del amor eterno.

¿Feliz? ¿Preguntas que si soy feliz?

raul;

.

Perdón por la sequía, he andado escribiendo solo en mi libreta, pero me da flojera pasarlos para acá…

Gracis por pasarse por el blog,

mis poemas escritos para tí<3

raul;

..

Estos días voy a estar modificando unas cosas del blog, imagenes y otros, como la imagen que puse arriba donde salgo escribiendo, por lo que puede que algunas veces se encuentre todo desacomodado.

Si les aparece así pues nimodo ¬¬.

Ya me voy, estoy en historia y estoy enojado por mi puta calificación…

raul;

So bring on the pain
Let it kill your memory
Bring on the rain
Let it drown what’s left of you and me

-
.

Yo soy de esos amantes a la antigua
que suelen todavia mandar flores
de aquellos que en el pecho aun abrigan
recuerdos de romanticos amores

Yo soy aquel amante apasionado
que aun usa fantasia en sus romances
me gusta contemplar la madrugada
soñando entre los brazos de su amada
yo simplemente soy de esa clase
que ya no es muy comun en nuestros dias
las cartas de amor, el beso en la mano
muchas manchas de carmin
entre las sombras del jardin.

Voy vestido igual que cualquiera
y vivo con la vida de hoy
pero es cierto que con frecuencia
sufro por amor y a veces lloro por la ausencia
porque soy de esos amantes a la antigua
que suelen todavia mandar flores
aunque yo sigo en este mundo
con sus modas y modismos
el amor es para mi siempre lo mismo
el amor es para mi siempre lo mismo
siempre lo mismo
siempre lo mismo

I try to hold on, but this scars hurt me every day more…

raul;

.

As I sat there in English class, I stared at the girl next to me.
She was my so called “best friend”. I stared at her long, silky
hair, and wished she was mine. But she didn’t notice me like that,
and I knew it. After class, she walked up to me and asked me for the
notes she had missed the day before and handed them to her. She said
“thanks” and gave me a kiss on the cheek. I wanted to tell her, I
want her to know that I don’t want to be just friends, I love her
but I’m just too shy, and I don’t know why.

11th grade
The phone rang. On the other end, it was her. She was in tears,
mumbling on and on about how her love had broke her heart. She asked
me to come over because she didn’t want to be alone, so I did. As I
sat next to her on the sofa, I stared at her soft eyes, wishing she
was mine. After 2 hours, one Drew Barrymore movie, and three bags of
chips, she decided to go to sleep. She looked at me, said “thanks”
and gave me a kiss on the cheek. I want to tell her, I want her to
know that I don’t want to be just friends, I love her but I’m just
too shy, and I don’t know why.

Senior year
The day before prom she walked to my locker. My date is sick” she
said; he’s not going to go well, I didn’t have a date, and in 7th
grade, we made a promise that if neither of us had dates, we would
go together just as “best friends”. So we did. Prom night, after
everything was over, I was standing at her front door step. I stared
at her as she smiled at me and stared at me with her crystal eyes. I
want her to be mine, but she isn’t think of me like that, and I know
it. Then she said “I had the best time, thanks!” and gave me a kiss
on the cheek. I want to tell her, I want her to know that I don’t
want to be just friends, I love her but I’m just too shy, and I
don’t know why.

Graduation Day
A day passed, then a week, then a month. Before I could blink, it
was graduation day. I watched as her perfect body floated like an
angel up on stage to get her diploma. I wanted her to be mine, but
she didn’t notice me like that, and I knew it. Before everyone went
home, she came to me in her smock and hat, and cried as I hugged
her. Then she lifted her head from my shoulder and said, “you’re my
best friend, thanks” and gave me a kiss on the cheek. I want to tell
her, I want her to know that I don’t want to be just friends, I love
her but I’m just too shy, and I don’t know why.

A Few Years Later
Now I sit in the pews of the church. That girl is getting married
now. I watched her say “I do” and drive off to her new life, married
to another man. I wanted her to be mine, but she didn’t see me like
that, and I knew it. But before she drove away, she came to me and
said “you came!”. She said “thanks” and kissed me on the cheek. I
want to tell her, I want her to know that I don’t want to be just
friends, I love her but I’m just too shy, and I don’t know why.

Funeral
Years passed, I looked down at the coffin of a girl who used to be
my “best friend”. At the service, they read a diary entry she had
wrote in her high school years. This is what it read: “I stare at him
wishing he was mine, but he doesn’t notice me like that, and I know
it. I want to tell him, I want him to know that I don’t want to be
just friends, I love him but I’m just too shy, and I don’t know why.
I wish he would tell me he loved me!” `I wish I did too…` I thought…

Gracias caro por la historia, te quiero…

Mírame,
perturba mi alma.
Desármame,
hasta que me entregue.
Deshilacha mi memoria,
hasta que no quede
más que tu rostro
en ella…
Hazme suplicarte más,
un poco más, de ese amor
arrollador,
que me perturba,
pero que solo tú
me podrías dar.
Date permiso
para exigirme,
las caricias y los besos
a los que te acostumbraría yo.
Y no te vayas,
no me dejes,
y no me olvides.
Sólo mírame y di
que me quieres,
sin presiones, sin temores,
en mi lugar,
donde encuentras la calma,
donde está la paz
que tanto tratas de encontrar.
Y quédate,
este es tu espacio.
Este mundo era tuyo
mucho antes de que llegaras.
Mírame, sonríeme
destrozando mi calma,
apuñala mis sentidos
en secreto, en silencio
en penumbras,
sin olvido.

I tried to read
I go to work
I’m laughing with my friends
But I can’t stop
To keep myself from thinking ,,pff,, =/

,

raul;

ps. tq :$