"The besants" (1)
My friends chose, to prove that the world does not exist,
A light lunch at a restaurant of Olives.
and resolved by a kiss in public,
That is the only real lovers of the universe.
I already knew. No comment needed the lovers discover the truth is more real than real sensitive
Resisters
life and customs (manners are a little white lie
And they experimented with the end of history) is kissed on
a restaurant at noon
Among the choice of your menu and service.
I spoke with words
Urged to establish the contrary. And drew nervous
topics to avoid insist:
News, travel, anything imminent passing.
(Would not have been my friends)
And from that distant planet of love pride
The besants threw out my worldly frivolity
included me in everything lost.
All they had released from life and reality and Olives
I was witnessing repeated kisses
Of those who left full and satisfied.
But for the rest of the diners speechless, was an accomplice.
knew they wanted to try more and they would.
And in stunned silence of Olives restaurant,
They kissed, while I was looking at a menu
poisoned dish to which they
Either I or the entire restaurant were dead
"The Pope's health"
Confined to the halls of the Vatican, even the most modern are
murky and claustrophobic.
would do well take up residence in
A space station orbiting And her daily blessing for those who expect from afar
Satellite intermittent flickering
distance and the rotation of the earth.
And when death is not deposited in the crypt Joint
others. Necropolis where dwell
male and old enough Papas
to conclude that Catholics, or there.
A daily report on the website where the report
blood pressure, diet, humidity, heart rate would be most useful.
Connected to a digital wireless sensor that plays on the web
second by second.
Each spring carries a cross by the Roman Coliseum
acts in public and immense fatigue centuries of Christianity,
Or something really serious disturbed. Tonight
winter
Reunited with his small inner circle to make a soup
O for small feast that commemorates an episode
Clerical take it out of the routine, with Sanguchito
and pastries consecrated in Rome his favorite bakery,
Pope and his friends, tell jokes, recite a little for the happiness of those
few of the Vatican offices
and distracted while the sun sets over the Tiber.
His Holiness's health is cared for by a select group of professionals
reliable (all Catholic) and, therefore, suspect.
should be the best in the world,
Because he imparts his blessing urbi et orbi without reservation.
But are the medical staff of the Vatican.
If there were more gods, at this point, work would have alleviated the effect of
Vestal, priests and all sorts of different materials anointed
separating and order of everyday life.
But I played this afternoon forecast.
From there you only see the future and the end of religions.
He always knew what to get here:
hatching conspiracies, floor sawing, machining plots, build alliances and solidify
with perks and sinecures,
to hold power more rare and more secure. Today
feel unwell and while hesitating between getting
Or
chair
You wonder how many people prayed for him (count visits to the website will not give up, so archaic and technologically illiterate
of the faithful) and
to what extent it is wise rest in the promise of a group of pious nuns in private audience
That ensured that they pray for his health and peace in the world.
A handful of monotheistic religions are indeed less noble than
A belief in many gods.
is inevitable, life tenure and advancement of gerontology
hang him from the balcony
Until the last moment, until just before death, aided by
Those who are thinking about smacking
vacancy (up to recently, he was part of the group)
And he knows that every second that one of his strengths declines,
opens a crack repaired by the hand of an assistant cameraman
Lying, frankly.
"The Shadow Media"
When night falls I'm another.
For the day is different and because when the day falls, is the night.
the day, night. Di, the no.
But I have said, when the day is, and remains
Lich days have been all day,
night comes and transforms it,
Like a beast, a ferocious animal a beast night stands And
day and not the day is night.
The process is called partial shade.
stop releasing plants begin to give oxygen and carbon in the air also attacks the partial shade.
falls like a blanket like a beast, half shade. I'm a chick
spider or a tarantula darkness makes its web.
Weaving for the inevitable day of night.
Stop breathing, the average shadow one breathes, like a spider.
You give what you want, put it in that state and so seduced, stops breathing.
paralysis of the nervous system, they say, prevents them from understanding. They face
nothing but understand it fully.
Like a spider, no one ever saw breathing, you approach the dam that is ecstatic, or dumb or impressed or: Fascinated by the effect of partial shade.
and fall on her like a manta ray, with a sting in the mouth you let the fluid from entering the airways and paralyze the central nervous system.
singing "something? Sing "La Sonnambula when you enter?
I sing something like a spider you love singing. Oíme.
So we started. I sing something while you were in the dark,
in the darkened auditorium, I saw
and began to think of you, I you prey spider and my material,
voice of my fabric was woven from the stage as a weapon saliva ..
Sometimes when built as a theater, as an ancient theater, where you're the only listener and the lights are lost. Only my voice holds you and loves you, while I sing and I see by my voice, stop breathing.
How Jesus became aware of his divine matter?
did you learn one day? Or was it a process, as it were, of learning? He was gathering evidence
his body one by one: a miracle today, another day
a revelation and finally one day he stood and said: "I am the redeemer."
As a plant, do I know the process: How does
plant sucking oxygen free carbon dioxide to do exactly the opposite?
Is it a process from molecule to molecule? Or is it a disaster every day in which the central nervous system plant (his rib) fails to produce oxygen by mass and pass to poison?
I know that in a moment I am a semi-shade and I am another.
And when you understand what it is mine, you're coming
, breathless, speechless and fascinated my legs
As stingray resting on the dam to cover it, because it is a miracle
, stop breathing.
as spider prey will move to the central nervous system paralyzed
neither dead nor alive: mesmerized.
If the prey die, cease to be a snack for the spider.
The jettison of disgust for the rotten.
is that at a time of decline, the average
Nightwatch,
oíme,
'm an animal.
Note (1) The poems belong to the author's next book "Galileo's finger."
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