Hablando Del Amor...

"Para matar el llanto..."

Poesia...Brujeria...

Yeah...somethin like that lol

Into You...

Yes...

Consider this...breathing

A writer writes and as he does...he breathes.  The inhale and exhale of the moments "air".  Describing what he sees, what he feels...even sometimes, what he wants...what he desires.  Every word has meaning.  Every word has "breath" or "spirit".  Every word has life. 

To reread a piece is to relive it.  Every line that was meant for you, for me...for us.  Comes back sharp and clear as though it were written yesterday.  When pieces are true...they are timeless and formless.  They fit everywhere and they fit nowhere.  They are specific and vague.  One word means something and the other is meant to have no meaning at all.  The "bi-polar" sessions of a writer are honest even when he's confused...like now ;-)

Compiling my pieces for my book has taken me down a memory lane of drastic emotional extremes.  I feel what I've written and the memory of each breath still has life.  Still has meaning and form.  Something I know will always be true.  Reading them again brings me the vivid imagery I was trying to recreate through verse and most all of them dealt with intensity and passion.  Between yesterday and today I have visited Bahrain, Texas, Pier 17, Gelston Ave and of course...where I am now.  There is so much life in what one writes.  If it is honest...it will live forever...

Into Dust...

Still falling
Breathless and on again
Inside today
Inside me today
Around broken in two
Til your eyes share into dust
Like two strangers turning into dust
Til my hand shook with the weight of fear
I could possibly be fading
Or have something more to gain
I could feel myself growing colder
I could feel myself under your fate
Under your fate
It was you, breathless and torn
I could feel my eyes turning into dust
Into strangers, turning into dust
Turning into dust
 Turning into dust

Angustia...

He bleeds and pleads for the bountiful seeds that come from pain and pleasure

The ripping of his skin, the indulgence in his sin

Watching as she groans with pleasure and pain from the deep

(To keep?...no)

Body heat keeps him warm tonight.  His delight?

Infatuation through penetration

(You will never be the same again)

I handle with care as I breath in your air of lust and fury

Feeling your heart beating faster on my chest as I do my best to give

Show me your strength, take inside my length of passion that knows no bounds

Shout my name in hunger pain that shatters my very soul...

(until I am yours)

~Moses

Written 2/28/2010 ;-)

Damn...them creepers sure do love to prey on them sleepers.  But are they really sleepers or creepers themselves...or are they the keepers of unsuspecting creepers that creep as they sleep and reap on the cheap.  Time knows how it goes to reveal the hoes that lie in the throws of empty flows...and yet I chose ;-) Tick tock tick tock  You dig?

Almost forgot about this one...lol

Monster - A Poem by Moe

Rusted feathered claws as hands
Roams the desert, deserted lands
His eyes held low so he won't see
"All of these people looking at me"

His skin is thick but easy to tear
Charred and burned, uneasy to wear
Looks up to heaven as if to say
"Why, oh Lord have you made me this way?"

My touch is soft but can cause an infection
My voice will receive but is apt for rejection
My eyes can find love in the simplest of souls
But can also see ugly in those very same holes

My choices they vary from tender to flame
Blue, hazel or green, it's never the same
Built by blood and flesh from his bone
A child at heart in a man fully grown

Eager to fly and eager to rest
Eager to beat down the pain in his chest
That all his internals, from black go to white
And when it is dark, the colors made right

The lines in his hands are the same on his face
From hiding so much, these lines have found place
Now to form roads for tears yet to flow
This monster cries out...to let the world know

~Moses

Aleluya

"tu fe fayo
y te traisiono
desnuda ella te atrapo
su luz y su belleza te agararon

y te ato a la silla de tu amor
rompio tu trono y te corto
te corto el pelo de tu fuerza y...aleluya

lo mejor de ti

quise sentir no senti

no te menti y siempre fui sincero

y aunque al final

todo fue mal

estoy cantando esta cancion

que suena casi...aleluya"

Somewhere between this song, these candles and this wine...

There is an answer to the riddle of excess

The place where saint and sinner meet to talk about their day

Before their war begins again

The place where lovers come to share a meal

Before they burn it off with passion

The place where God and the devil met

Before that tree was placed in the garden...

The place between the image and his desire made whole
Before his tounge meets her skin...

Aleluya...

What Dreams Can Say...

You know for a long time I questioned myself.  I wondered how I could be so wrong.  How I could go down a road towards a life that would have been impossible for me to bear.  How could I have been so mistaken in my choice?  It scared me to even think to choose again and made me even doubt the choices I've made up to that point.  Yet after awhile I realized something.  Everything I knew told me the situation was f*cked up.  Everything inside me understood how difficult that road would be but the pure love I felt drove me towards determination in the face of illogic.  I can't be ashamed of that and I can't say I was wrong.  I knew what I had and I was willing to bear it because I thought that drive was being reciprocated.  I thought things would change but they never did.  In this, I was delusional.  Once my delusion became too fantastic even for "love"...it was time to cut my losses.  Folks, I have seen love work miracles.  I have seen love smooth out edges and change the heart into something both can share.  Except that these miracles only work for those that are willing and those that are willing will see the fruit of it...if they are willing to work at it. 

Last night was one of those nights that leave the awakened in silent thought.  I sit here alone wondering what the hell happened and why.  Why did I feel a certain presence and why did I hate the fact it was there?  Folks, what you do in dreams is for you.  When you have the ability to determine what course your dream will take, it is a true manifestation of one's desire and my desire last night?...was to finally be left alone by this thing.

The man I was...the man I am...one in the same.  Now I will only share myself with those I deem worthy of such a man...even in my dreams.