Tuesday, December 29, 2015


They want to get to Heaven
And follow through roads
Of pure hypocrisy;
-Oh, damned disgrace!

If they ever get there,
I assume that Hell
Will be a much better place.

Monday, December 21, 2015

Christmas Feeling

I half-open my eyes in the morning, and through my eyelashes, I see the dim light of a beautiful morning trying to break the opacity of the curtains. I get up and open the windows: the light gets in, in white flashes embroidered with gold. There's a feeling in the depths of my soul, a happy feeling: Christmas is coming. 

Glimpses of long past Christmas mornings come flying with the wind: I hear my mother's voice from the kitchen, while she prepares our supper. I hear my sister's laughs while they set up our Christmas tree in a corner of our  small living room. I hear the dogs barking friendly when my father gets home from work. 

I'm a small child, a little dark-haired girl in a short home dress. I run to the kitchen and try to get some of the cake batter that my mother is making. She gives me a little in a spoon, and I run to the yard, trying to escape the dogs that try to take the spoon from my hand. We run, play and laugh. It starts raining heavily, and I hear mom telling me to go in, so I sit at the kitchen door steps and look at the rain falling, breathing in its fresh smells.

My mother and father are gone. We have all grown up, and grown apart from each other for many reasons - I don't know if any of these reasons are strong enough, but life has its own ways of teaching what it wants us to learn, and sometimes, we learn best when we are alone and look at things from a different perspective. 

My childhood is gone, and so is that Christmas tree, but the child that used to dream of the gifts she would get while she watched Christmas TV commercials and memorized jingles and Christmas carols, is still alive. I left her sitting at the kitchen door, holding a spoon full of cake batter. Sometimes, she looks at me.

Monday, December 14, 2015

There Goes Another One...

There goes another one,
Through this same old road,
That leads to who knows where...

And barefoot she goes,
Naked in her soul,
Flowers in her hair.

I only hope she gets
Where she wants to get
A smile may she wear...

We're waving her goodbye,
It's difficult not to cry,
Involved by her flair.

Wednesday, December 9, 2015


A friend once told me 
That a realistic person 
Is just a pessimistic in disguise... 
Was he right?

A realist
Is said to see things
As they really are...
But what are they like?

Tuesday, December 1, 2015


Have I told you?
Don't expect it...
You can keep it.

Zip your lips
Or better:
Zip your ears!
(You have
No idea...)

Forget it,
Just let it
Smoothly fade
And disappear...