Another year approaching and I’m afraid-

Days of holy blown by winter air

laughter and love, hands holding together

trees made to dress in colors of gold and reds

to shelter boxes wrapped with care.

But winter brings not only snow

it brings loneliness which spreads

across my bones, another year

to add more wrinkles and push me closer

to where the road no longer shows.

I’ll raise my glass with every time

and smile and cheers!

While deep inside I’ll be alone

without a box wrapped with such care

and no one there

to calm my fears

and to call mine.







Floating above nor asleep or awaked

the in between where at times we fall

a magical moment of awaken illusions-

Were you a ghost or just mind intrusions?

White puffiness of clouds floated

smoke dissipating in between fingers

but getting closer to my bed I dared

and blew you softly away with a smile

for allowing a touch not prepared.

Were you a ghost that sometimes lingers?

As the whiteness of smoke took shape

and I smiled with a slight recognition

for what was a gentle apparition

dissipating in the night once awaked.


(Lucid dreams usually occur while a person is in the middle of a normal dream and suddenly realizes that they are dreaming. This is called a dream-initiated lucid dream. A wake-initiated lucid dream occurs when you go from a normal waking state directly into a dream state, with no apparent lapse in consciousness. In either case, the dreams tend to be more bizarre and emotional than regular dreams. Most importantly, you will have at least some ability to control your “dream self” and the surrounding dream)






I wander in search of a better self-

spirit broken but redeemed every sunrise

for every night I dwell on sins

of past and present,

but every morning I wake and rise

and life begins.

No answers left in dreams but how I try

when visit every place

and every night

the searching leaves a trace

to follow in my search for better self.






Words held inside my head ready to burst

electrified desires for a gentle ear

to listen, just listen-

What’s flying inside is ready for freedom

from a dazzled mind and uncanny thirst,

So come closer, come near

and listen, just listen-

If you do so carefully and closer to my skin

you may hear the whispers flying deep within.







I do not belong, knew it from the start-

out of place among the ones to claim me

open arms full of love for which I retaliated,

pulled away and walked my own.

Out of place with the ones that used me

my innocence tree of life defoliated

scarred in places I can’t even see.

I do not belong for I felt a stranger

among those with skin and words alike

kin cells from roots I called my own.

I belong only to memories left in the sand

footprints left to fade away

scattered through the places I like-

I do not belong among the things I want

but only in dreams did I find a place

and felt safe and complete.

And once life my hopes deplete

in death I will find my way

to the place where I belong.







Have I ever found you and then lost you again?

But moments seem distant, blurry

brainwashed emotions lingering late at night

with three glasses of red mellowing what might

a better night to be, only if I hurry

and scribble down the lines.

Have I ever lost you and then found you again?

Then here is November in Spanish noviembre,

time passes quickly and then others die

but were left behind in another life

that I won’t remember for fear of the pain.

Let me face my winters, another diciembre

then let’s celebrate yet another year

with more to remember and more to forget.

Have I ever lost you and then lost you again?







Selfish I am with the words I write-

You can read them

trace then slowly with your eyes

but will never understand.

You can give them meaning

but it will be all lies

for they are mine alone.

Sure, they may look like yours

with traces of your dreams

leaking in between,

but they are mine alone

and clearly mistaken

when my words are taken

and use them like they are yours.

I become selfish with the words I write

you can only read them

and never understand

for I keep the secrets behind every letter

hidden far away

and I hold the key for every written line.

Selfish I am with the words I write

and they are only mine.






You are barely tasting life

while mine lies regurgitated in a pool of regrets.

It comes down to this, when youth stays behind

and sagging skin reminds you of approaching death,

when love becomes an illusion and a disillusion

after we discover the truth we find

behind lies confused by too much tequila

and bad decisions made while drunk with life.

And we learned to cope and forgot to hope

when clouds seem far in a sky

filled with newness and intricate times

and we adapt… and we adapt,

connected by strings we tied along the way

to keep us from getting lost.

But lost we are not, just simply tired

of looking for sense in a senseless life

that lies regurgitated in a pool of regrets.






I can go and go even further

the who I am left somewhere

I visited in my travel.

I can go and go to find

answers, isn’t what we seek?

But neither here nor there

will I ever end this search of mine

for the more I unravel

the more I want to know.

Even now when I speak

 with my words dreams

lost in time make no sense

and grounded here every day it seems

I get lost more and more in pretense.

I must go and go even further

and leave the who I am somewhere,

some place I’ve never been.