AUTHOR

PROLOGUE

 

Dust in my skin

Every time I try to force the dream to end

Or to lead it to a best denouement

It lingers, it blows the Dream

Even though it is mine

 

Not different from reality on a blue level

 

It’s the same pattern

But no entropy

Just a distorted guitar trying to fit

A chorus of angels that speak -

 

No, angels don’t speak

The one who tried, fell

And we’re the offspring

 

Left to the mother of demons 

 

Who paved the road for spring to turn into winter

Who gave thorns to the roses

 

Who gave me a batter to fight

When I just wanted to paint

Stars on the sky blue sky

 

During the day

 

To make company to the lady of rose 

Roses

​

 

I

 

The face of a man

The loose silhouette of a woman

Kissing the abyss

 

A couple making love

Eyes always nonchalant 

 

A flying bird on a given route

Words, many words

To fulfil the negative space 

 

I took a picture to replicate it

A poem that didn’t turn out so good

 

But I did line it art

When I had already washed the cup

And made another pot of coffee

 

I wrote some lines

And they made no nous

Again, I was misunderstood,

This time, by myself apart 

The art

 

Broken pattern

Broken heart

A war

 

​

 

II

 

Coloured pens colour blind the salty water

That is still deciding if the loneliness

Is too much to handle

 

I miss being called by monikers

Or the noms the plum I couldn’t make up my mind about

 

Twilight reddish beams

And red has become everything

Since there was a fire and a long draught

And no rain for happy endings

 

But I didn’t really care

I’ve been raining in the micro

It’s been flowing through my eyes

Catch phrases I write in the beginnings

For mere boredom 

Or lack of courage to start right off

And word that I’m not happy

So it becomes real

And perhaps it goes away

Like everything that seems real enough

 

I’m at war and I’m losing

And if I lose, I’ll fall

 

For thousands of years until 

There’s another twilight

And I can get a lift on a reddish beam

 

That will become blue when I get to my end

 

 

III

 

If I was to paint the sky in front of me now

I could mix the linear and aerial perspectives

And give it another yet dimension 

Parallel to matter

 

A dimension where I could access the painting

Make it my own world

Through the word

That inspired the form, the colours

The atmosphere 

The universe of dreams

 

And my view parallel to the script

 

Unfocused

 

That waited for the stars to happen

 

But in an afterthought

Saw that the fact that stars 

Don’t show up during the day

Doesn’t mean they’re not there

 

Still so, concluded that Venus

Venus shine parallel to changes in time and mood

 

So, when trying to shine, Love it all away

Just Love 

It all away

 

Parallel to everything else

 

​

IV

 

There’s a crossroad in front of me

I wander

And I wonder

 

And I conclude

 

If I take whatever way I take

I’ll either get to my destination

Or end up right here

 

Wandering

And wondering 

 

As I try it all over

 

Is it real 

Or is it my view

Is it real or is it blue

And if it’s blue

It’s not real

So it’s just my view

 

It’s been me

All anew

 

There’s a crossroad in front of me

If I take whatever way I take

I’ll either get to my destination

 

Or end up right here

 

Is it real?

 

​

V

 

There’s a cosmic imprint in me

The same god that Adam tried to touch

Dreamed by someone else that made art

 

This place is access in the profound darkness

 

It’s chaos

Not order

So, our mind can play with it

It’s our own universe

Our mind is the telegrapher

 

A prompt template of the Universe

That we get to write the script

 

That’s why it’s called dream

It’s our dream based on 

The Dream

 

But who knows that what we think we live

Is not someone else’s dream?

 

I feel like I’m living in someone’s tomorrow

Tomorrow that lives in someone’s yesterday 

Yesterday that lives before everything that lead to now

And repeats itself past a while

 

And we have to wait til the end 

To understand

 

But the end never comes

 

​

VI

 

As long as you have the day ahead

Surrounding your wings will be the song

The imprint of a dream someone dreamed long ago

And you got to sing it along

 

So sing it! 

Enjoy your day like said

One of the melic poets that sang 

The dream someone sang long ago

And the fermata never met 

The end

 

Negative space pink

Or is it blue, in reverse

Nothing left to lose

 

Blue goes after gold

Sail from object to shadow

I see it though you, me

 

Every time we collide

Bokeh glance in the darkroom

I develop a dream

 

A dream that someone wrote long ago

And the caesura was implied

 

So we could dream over it

 

Unfocused

Background to the big picture

​

 

EPILOGUE

 

A lamp, a chair, 

Moon beams through the window 

Venus sustained by a sun thread

 

A shooting star 

A wish to ask

 

I miss it

 

Then, all the sense that didn’t make

Me

Made someone else

See

 

Poetry

 

The language of angels that don’t speak

But I do, they sing, I sing - along - scratches in

A foil, metaphorically

That it’s not made of gold

It’s just a blank foolish page 

That will become ash

 

When the dreamer that dreams me decided to awake