The doctor and being

Jekyll and Hyde
is not a choice between good and evil
that would be easy
that is no riddle
No
it's between struggle and freedom
heavy awareness and light carelessness
a whole divided and a twitchy unicum
between acceptance and desire.

There's a crossroads
at every turn
but somewhere the waters are deeper
and darker.
It's what you don't know yet
that makes you choose,
that makes you fall.

Although the bus

Hours stolen to time
make you grumpy
make you kind.
The bus is an excuse to do nothing
to listen to music
to just think
just brood
just be.
Almost like the movies
you get to observe people
to stare
at them sleeping
to curse them talking
to be people among them.
Night has fallen
there's no light available
above you to read.
You fall into the pit of your thoughts
and you curl into the journey.

Dreams

Dreams are a labyrinth
of hopes and desire
amix corners of terror
and dead ends of pain.
You can lose yourself
you wish the aisle never stopped
you wish to prolongue
a cherry of pure happiness
atop a hill of shame.
Don't wake me up
cause here is my land
where it all comes true
where I can touch you
but if you do
make it be you
and no-one else
not the day nor the parent nor a clock
cause when a dream breaks
anything can hatch:
please, gently pull it apart and make it true.

Filth

Displeasing as it may be
it comes after faith
and the Indians know it
cause a bright kitchen and a rotting soul
is what I'm used to
but filth is easier to come to terms to
when it's outside
and just a side effect.

Time-in

A countdown

to suspance

and a cop who forgets

but there may be some truth

in a poor script

and a fancy view:

we got nothing on our arm

no flash lighting the pool,

we got time

and we can sleep in

while the sun rises,

we can stretch hope

and delay happiness

we can linger

because we think it best

or the only chance we got

until we're ready

until the moment comes

until some fates collide...

Until time shows up

and we may cry

but know it's on us,

everything's waiting for us

in the short run.

Circle

Empty means
full of things you don't understand
understanding requires
vital energy
that night gives
and day takes away.
The more you talk the more you drown
the more you see the more you want
to nausea
or never enough.
We are the perfect circle.

Bracelet

A lonesome band
pictured of Brazil
laying amidst dirt
in a scruffy bus
just a place ahead of
the nice architect,
while I'm thinking rain
broken screens and gluten free
and the expert of instantaneous
weights
waits
to talk nothings
to the class at large.

Having a ball

Fate is having a fit
beyond sight
a snigger escapes its drooling mouth
such a laugh he's having
such a good time
cause he's been trying hard on me
and every time, he has its way
cause my hands are tied
and its are a free blur.
It's inevitable
it shows itself again
always the same
no other pact is contemplated
there's one way to get on the path
one way only
and I never was free
I never felt free
so let's turn the world around.

Lost umbrella

I've lost my first umbrella,
officially, today.
The blue one just got stolen
outside the local library
another one was maimed
a pearl of umbrellas,
still outside the local library
really, that place's a dump
concerning umbrellas' freaks.
But today was on sight
almost deliberate
almost liberating:
its rain coat had slipped some time ago
and now the staff has given me
the slip.
I went back to look for it
a frantic half a minute
but time had passed
people had moved
and buses had changed.
Red umbrella,
I tried my best with you.
Go in peace.
May you serve well your next suitor
if they're worth it.

Stuck

Between an age I don't remember any more
Santa's land of pure love
and the reign of grown-ups
the ones who forget
the ones with knowledge above joy
and commitment above knowledge.
"You must remember"
says the pilot while the prince's away;
my determination to shut my eyes will carry me
somewhere, I bet
living is easy with eyes closed
but I keep closing mine because
I dread to forget.
Forgetting is giving up
surrendering to life;
never ready for such a feat
and yet it is the natural beat.
Blessed the ones who forget and still remember
when time has come.

Less lk now, more lk never

Nights spent with Muse lyrics at my feet
humming wishes under my breath
with a silver tongue.
Summers, an alien atop my own terrace
peering out incomprehensively
staring at a gliding world.
Now and always I am lost
inside the maze:
the goblins king awaits.

Years, defined inside a form
a way of reasoning
a scorn
and the Great man keeps saying
We cannot solve problems
using the same kind of thinking
but I'm deaf to good counsels
and mean to stark sense.

Thirteen hour's almost over
but I never had a brother
always wanted to, perhaps
all we look for in a soul
is a way to feel safe, they say
protection from trouble and pain
a harbour, a gate
open to eventualities and change
hinges accustomed to insane
thoughts and rain
pouring down from above, above,
where I advert my eyes
because nights are hard to sleep
life is hard to live
and goblins' kings hard to please.

Time will tell

Goodbye may be sometimes
the only way
but round the corner
where hoarfrost glisten
you loose the way
three out of four.

Any other way is good enough
cause going back is dying
in agony
but hoarfrost glisten:
the mark is left
inside the bones.

No more trust
no more idyllic vision
of friends enjoying company
cause hoarfrost glisten;
you let it shine
and just move on.

The path and the cliff

All my life I've been trotting
trotting down a meadow path
skipping rocks and picking flowers
glancing left towards the mountains.
All my life I've know besides me
there's a steep cliff going nowhere
on the right, three steps away
catching up at the horizon.
Confronting it must I, eventually
the cliff is in my heart
hidden under many a laughter
gloomy days
and rotting buds.