Wednesday, May 24, 2017

Inspiration





Because I keep many blogs, many people ask me: "Where does your inspiration come from?" Well, I really don't know. I haven't travelled a lot, so I cannot say that I get inspiration from the many things I've seen or from the many people I've met. In fact, I haven't met many people in my life. I have a very quiet life and work from home, and I don't have a lot of friends.

I read a lot, though. But the things I write have nothing to do with the things I read. I write when I feel inspiration... and here I go again: where does it come from? 

I believe that one day this eager to write will disappear. It will be gone mysteriously, just like it came to me one day. I don't think there's a way to control it: I just sit down and write when I think I need to. It's like a very delicate thread that I hold in the air, and someday a strong wind will blow and take it away. 

Some people think I'm a writer. I don't agree. Writers write professionally and make a living out of it. Writers take writing seriously; I don't. It's just fun. Although there are people who have told me I'm talented, I doubt if they were telling me the truth or just trying to make me happy. Whatever the truth is, I really don't mind. I write because it makes me feel good. It's something beyond other people's judgment or approval. 

I write because I write. Just because. 




Monday, May 22, 2017

LITTLE DROPS OF RAIN








Little drops of rain
Dropping one by one
On the flower petals,
On the window pane.

They knock on the glass
And they say: “Remember!”
They turn into puddles
That splash on my fender.

Little drops of rain
Presents from the clouds
Wash away my fears,
Clearing up my doubts.

I look through the window
And sigh as they fall
My  whole world is  wet,
-From my eyes they fall…





Thursday, May 11, 2017

THAT'S WHY








I know
That she knows
That I know
What I know.

That's why
She's scared
Almost losing
Control:

She knows 
That I know
That she knows
That I know
What I know.







Tuesday, May 2, 2017

I HAD A DREAM






I think was asleep
When I heard the steps that crossed the room
And stopped right behind 
My sleeping body.

I think I was asleep
When I felt cold hands on my back
Shaking me, removing my covers
And exposing me to the coldest breath.

I think I was asleep
When I felt icy fingers moving on my shoulders,
And stopping at my neck
Pressing gently, then, strongly.

I think I am asleep
While I fly over the top roofs of my neighborhood
And look at everybody down there
Waking and walking out of their homes
Without being able to see me.