Giving My Heart

                                   Dedicated to a girl who used to beg at Plaza Las Americas

I don't know her name

But I can guess
From the look at her eyes
She needs no name
To be named, to be remembered…
As a beautiful girl
With her gorgeous eyes
The beautiful sight
And that perennial
And very shy smile…
I can imagine, maybe
If I make an effort
Recall from the ether
The every soul’s memory,
When she was a newborn
All full of hope
And gifts from around…
The little and beautiful baby
The adorable one…
And she grew up pretty
With that innocent smile
Smiling always to the people
Smiling always to the life!
And life…I think life
Always smiles back
But people sometimes,
Laugh at the innocent smile…
And even worst they make you cry!
And those pretty and beautiful eyes
With the color of the ocean
And the bright of a star
Were early pushed to tears
And the tears broke her smile…
Smile, tears and eyes
Were at once the new skin
Of her tender heart…
But hearts are like
Muscles, if worked they become hard
Hiding feelings
Hiding treasures
For…
They are just hidden
And hope
Hope is forbidden
For a very hurt heart….
Sometimes
When life hits so hard
And the pain is so strong
Only some illusions
Float in the sea of delusions
Eased by some opium
Or whatever is on sale…
And I wonder, how the poison
Of tremendous drugs in the street
Those always mutilate the body
But in her
Her eyes intact were!
I don’t know her name
Neither she, knows mine
But we have stared at our eyes
Since the very first time we met
And it was love
At first sight…
The love that is forever
The love of the soul
Beyond the illusions of the flesh
And beyond the hope
To be reciprocated…
Only a smile she gave back to me
In response to mine,
And we got connected
For the every new encounter
The lady beggar
And the fading citizen
Always on his car
Making the stop incidental to her
Waiting for the light,
For her to approach
To give her the charity
Sometimes a word, a smile and a thought
Who knows caught by her
In her daydream
Maybe at night if she could remember me
The man who looked at her eyes
Giving her an orange, a candy, some money…
And tonight I gave her my heart…
I promised her to pray,
As I did in my car
And now I write a poem
For her, the lady beggar
With the beautiful eyes…
She has no more smiles,
She is weaken and dry
Like a leaf ready to part
Her sight is pure sadness
And the sadness stares wondering
This was life?
And I cry for her
As I cry here tonight
She is dying of sadness
With so much life in her eyes…
augusto poderes copyright (C.) All Rights Reserved April 12, 2011.
 

Immortality

     To all the dream killers, let me tell you that you kill nothing but your own...

     And to all the dreamers and the child who waited the adult to become...

 

How someone becomes an orphan without been noticed?

I am the unofficial orphan of a family

The rebel who was pushed away for being different

The one who wasn’t granted the licenses to cry

Neither the license to speak out loud the truth

Or in silent below the audible sounds

I had no right for the basic rights

Never a kiss, never a hug, never a word

Unless those ones perpetrated and for my soul unknown

I grew up in an empty heart

That once was like a balloon full of hope

Of that air that souls bring to life

But with stings of hate

But with pinch of thorns

But with pins of words

Of the most void acts of love

The brand new heart so well inflated

Became an empty, desolated and depleted one

Every time the disaffection stroke

A horrible pain felt my heart

When the vital air was flushed away 

And drops of hope bled out the wounds

And scars in my soul formed thousands of walls

Until one day, the worst of all,

The death was sent

As a poison pot

The hate had reached

The top of all cups

And the melancholy

My old companion

Of a lost remote world

Conspired with the wolves

To kill my hopes

And the final battle

Had to be fought

There were traitors who sold my trust

I was betrayed by my closest ones

But I was young, so death and heaven

Were yet beyond

I was a just, I was pure

When in the nightmare she kissed

My cheek like Judas did

To Our Lord

I won the battle

But what I won more

Was immortality

That at that moment I touched. 

Copyright © 2013 augustopoderes aka angelespada, All rights reserved.

A Daring Angel

And there was an angel,
Back in time, the time of the ancients
When the ancients recalled him
As an angel of the very beginning
He was that angel, who was so compassionate
With the human souls…
He was so sad for their ignorance,
Their lack of purpose and perspective
Their endless suffering,
Sufferings of the flesh,
The spirit, the unknowns,
The suffering of being alive
In the middle of a mystery
Of the eternity without a glance
Of what they really were;
That was the knowledge left to be known
Only, by the Only One…
And that angel, known by the ancients
As the one who could cry
Because he had on his cloudy face
The tear drops of the rain
For all the fields dried by the sun
Flowing always as rivers
As an eternal song of love…
That angel was
The one who dared in the name of justice
The one who dared in the name of compassion
For the sake of the mortals called humans,
The one who dared to steal the fire…
Yes, he was Prometheus,
Really an angel as we defined them
That obsessive behavior to act onto others
To be good for the sake of someone
Of so many unknowns
For so many others
Far away from his angelic condition
Reached or not it was his
And had no other purpose in the heavens
Than to enjoy it, live it, contemplate
The marvelous of all the Creation…
But as a angel…lacking commonsense
He did not even asked
For the only thing that wasn’t given to the humans
The fire of the science
The one that contained
All the wisdom of knowledge
The rationale purity
Without the innocence of the newborn
That fire was forbidden
Excluded from the humans yet ready for so much
The ingredient necessary to be creators
To be like gods…
To be god!
And he did it
He stole the fire of science
And for that was condemned
To stay alive for eternity
Watching the disasters
That for his compassion he unchained!
And like a movie on his mind
All the atrocities were played forever…
The wars, the genocides,
The slavery, the homicides,
The weapons, the holocaust,
The apartheid, the segregations,
The violations, the mutilations,
The tortures, the lies,
The terror, the pollution,
The betrayals, the revolutions,
The involutions, the bombs
The nuclear weapons,
The predatory consumption
The species extinctions
And the perpetual fornication
Of the twisted concepts…
The assassinations of other angels
Incarnated as humans as
Luther King and Mahatmas Gandhi…
There was an angel…
That one from the ancient memory
When humans were just mortals
Within their innocence
Without knowing the fruits of the knowledge
Only sufferers of their nature
Without any explanation
Without any remedy
To their primitive condition, but the science
That resided in the fire brought
To them by the angel
The good angel who lost its wings
And like Prometheus as he was
No human thanked him but…
A wound on his belly was opened
To let the vultures eat his angelic liver…
And there was a vulture everyday that feasted on him
Eating up almost his entire liver
Leaving a piece to grow a new one
For each and every day
Until the ends of time…
And every day
Forgotten at his fate
By the humans he sacrificed himself
He talked to his own while waiting gratefulness,
Saying: My liver will grow back,
Tomorrow again…
augustopoderes copyright C. March 29, 2011

Peter Paul Rubens (1577–1640)

Size of this preview: 521 × 600 pixels. Other resolutions: 209 × 240 pixels | 417 × 480 pixels | 667 × 768 pixels | 890 × 1,024 pixels.

The Little Warrior

                                                                     To Sammy Ed Espada Jr.

The little elephant

Is playing the trumpet

The waking hour

At the window’s knocking.

The happy elephant

At the merry morning

With the little warrior

Are the triumphant story.

There was a hero

From the land of fairies

A little boy and

His tiny elephant.

They both together

Fought as great soldiers

In the battlefield

Where unicorns roam;

The bow prepared

On shoulder ready

A bag of arrows

Of light and blessings;

A sword of miracles

A shield of prayers

The wonder warrior,

The tiny elephant

Marched down to war

Came back with glory.

Copyright © 2013 augustopoderes aka angelespada, All rights reserved.

Return

Have you ever heard a whisper

in between your dreams

like in the middle of the mist

something unknown

something unseen

cracking up the silence

within your sleep?

Have you?

Try to remember

back in time

and you will find,

you will see

That it was me.

It was I

when we were one at once

facing each other

like the sun to the moon

like the evening to the dawn

like the night to the day...

We were both

and we were one

like a mirror to each other;

identical water drops

descending in a fall

to the cascade of this life

and in the water

we were absorbed

and we were lost.

We passed through rivers

We were at the ocean floor,

Looking for each other

Meeting many souls,

And we wanted to travel

As far as to the sun

To the galaxies and go beyond

And we invented in eternity

For each one of us

Water pumps of soap

To go floating

Through the Universe

As childlike souls,

Forever young.

Because You and I

Were destined

To this return!

augusto poderes Copyright April 2008

 

Amar

Liberation comes when exercising the word

As the creation of everything

A genesis of life

When darkness is set apart

To make the light be among

Since light cannot be contained forever

The dense mass of black holes

Are destined to explode

Creating universes.

And since your anger swallowed so much

The light that surrounded once

Will be again poured

As infinite stars

Hope is forever

No light is meant to perish

Instead is amassed

For every revolution of the cosmos

When the greedy jailer

Of the light becomes so small

There will be no other chance

But to explode from inside

Letting the light expand

At the sole word

Of the Spanish verb Amar.

Copyright © 2013 augustopoderes aka angelespada, All rights reserved.

augustopoderes copyright 2013

Light, Angels and Thoughts

What about the light
Coming from the deep
Crossing the frontiers
Which are beyond our eyes?
I don’t know
But I have seen
All those rays
And so much bright
Pure light as the sun
Coming from your eyes!
There is no time for the light
There is no time for the souls
There is no time for the love
There will always be
You and I…
As when we met
At the dawn of the mind
At the dawn
Of what we thought
A paradise we have lost!
There was you
There was I
There were angels watching us
And remember
The one with the sword
How a paradise could be lost?
There was you
There was I
And still we are
In Paradise!
And the angel with the sword
Is unveiling
Our thoughts!
angel espada aka augusto poderes copyright 2009

Stolen Time

It is time for poetry
The time stolen to ourselves;
The one coming from the nothing
Like the eternal waves.

It’s time to find the solely
Soul hidden in itself
Beyond the walls that only
A lonely soul can brake.

It’s time to run the cycle
And ride a wonder horse,
The wings of the Pegasus
Who flew the dreams beyond.

It’s time for some miracle
That always had its time.
It’s time for celebration
From water we got wine.

It’s time to write a poem,
It’s time to sing a song
Stealing from the labor
The time stolen from us.

And the time that we can make
From the time that it was made
Is the time of our triumph
If we live the present now.

Setting out the unfulfilled,
Disregarding foolish dreams
Sensing life is all we need;
Life is time of flavoring.
copyright angelespada