DUSTY TREASURES OF A NOMADIC LIFE.

The prompt this week at Poetry Jam is "trash or treasure?" . 

I wrote about an old present from a very special friend. After moving several times, I lost it, but one day I suddenly found it in a gloomy corner of my basement.

In boxes, in a mess

All my memories move with me

From city to city

I carry stuff I don't even know I possess

It's been landscapes and years

But I still recall that seaside town

Where I found

The marvel that brought me to tears

There, dusty, I saw it

That old Spanish poetry book

And I looked

Back to that birthday when I got it

Among such disorder

My memory of you finds its place

And it I embrace

As from city to city I still wander

Now on my shelf

I treasure it up, I'll never lose it again

And back then,

Now and tomorrow to me it opens itself

UNEXPECTEDNESS.

The prompt this week at Poetry Jam is unexpected.

Has it ever occured to you that a good friend of yours grew apart you? Whatever the reason was - a misunderstanding, lack of free time, a huge problem in their private life... Unfortunately, it happens quite often. Our extremely busy lifestyle doesn't allow us to take care of all of our friendships. And time goes by, and although you still think of that person, the relationship keeps cooling down, so every day it gets more and more difficult to talk to them again. 

Thus your friend unexpectedly getting in touch with you again is to me, among unforeseen experiences in life, perhaps one of the best.

Just like they come, they go

Without notice, as a surprise

Just like they come, they go

And darkle the earlier sunrise

They come and go, it's true

But some of them leave footprints

And it sprouts out of the blue

That thing you were looking

Until suddenly one cloudy day

Startingly they slam your door

"Goodbye" they don't even say

And you wait

But they just come back no more

Now as life goes on

As time relentlessly goes by

You see you better give in

And all on your own

Though your hope don't want to die

You learn to go on living

With no chance of them coming back

Only emptiness in your little shack

You're wrapped in so many memories

Until suddenly another cloudy day

They open your door again

Singing those old cheerful melodies

The warmth of the unexpected you feel

And just like they walked away

They're back as old good friends

As the old good friends they used to be

IMPOSSIBLE PLACES.

The prompt this week at Poetry Jam is an impossible place. Perhaps a little late, but here's my contribution to this lovely topic.

The message is simple: this expresses the longing for a world where love, magic, truth and optimism reign and displace hate, pessimism and falseness.

An impossible place
Is that without harms
That among charms
That in your arms

An impossible place
Is that in no rush
That without blush
That in a peaceful hush

An impossible place
Is that where I'm not shy
That where sparks always fly
That where hate dies

An impossible place
What does it mean to you?
To me, an impossible place
Is that where love rings true

THIRST.

The prompt this week at Poetry Jam is thirst. If I'm honest, I was completely out of inspiration. I've been thinking for about two days, turning it over in my mind night and day: "thirst... what can I write about? what does this word tell me?". And I finally came up with this: I was thirsty for inspiration.

And that's what my poem is about: lack of inspiration, creativity or maybe just lack of ability to express anarchic, messed-up thoughts. I beg words to come back and rescue me, bring me my inspiration back... But in the end it's not the words that save me, it's not the words that inspire me. It's something else.

I retain today
Thirsty thoughts
That need words
To be allayed

"Quench my thirst!"
To them I would cry
On that lonely night
When droughts cursed

Inspiration was dry:
"Rush out, be my relief
And make me relive"

But, wordless, it died
Until you emersed
And slaked my thirst

LONELINESS.

This week's prompt at Poetry Jam is alone. There's a saying in Spanish: "más vale solo que mal acompañado", which means it's better to be alone than in bad company. I wrote about how, although at first it may seem more attractive to avoid being alone and one does so at any price, loneliness is in the end much more comforting than bad companies or false friends.

I'm walking on tiptoes across warm sand
I'm dancing slow to the sound of my cry
But you come to take my hand
And loneliness waves goodbye

A bright new day seems to dawn
Stars have fallen off the sky
But no one knows where they've gone
And loneliness waves goodbye

But deep down I know she's still there
She's such a treacherous mistress
She will quietly from above stare
My sweet descent into hell she will witness

And when I least expect her to appear
She will guide me again through the night
And though her coldness makes me fear
I know she's kinder than any blinding light

BRIDGES.

The prompt this week at Poetry Jam is bridges. The topic of this poem is the lack of the strength to go on living as a consequence of having little or nothing to live for. But in the end one decides this attitude must radically change. In order to do that, one has to cross the bridge, which is something really difficult. What lays on the other side of the bridge represents the unattainable, the unreachable: the strength to go on.

I see you standing on the other side

Just the shadow of what I should be

Teasing me, laughing at me - no light

Just the shadow of what I could be

I see you standing in the wrong place

The place I can't seem to reach

But in the distance I can see your face

Still through our long open breach

You see me standing

But never waiting

For you to come and rescue me

Instead I cross the bridge

THE MOON.

This week’s prompt at Poetry Jam is the moon. The moon is to me the symbol of loneliness in the good sense of the word, that is to say, it represents a being that, in spite of being alone, doesn’t stop shining. Loneliness isn’t to it – or her, as mentioned in the poem – an obstacle or a reason to fade, but a motivation to keep being as powerful, beautiful and bright as it (she) always has been. Regardless of how many years, centuries, even millennia, she spends alone; she’ll always keep letting her light shine.

Higher and higher she flies

Hung on such sinister skies

And all on her own

Not a single word does she say

She quietly stares at us play

And all on her own

And she owns a mirror on earth

Where she can admire her worth

Because she’s all on her own

So elegantly dressed in white

Everyone suspicious of her dark side

To her surrended even the ocean tides

And that’s why she’s so lonesome

But don’t you dare slide

Never let the black skies around you

Say your beauty you must hide

Don’t you dare fade away

Never stop shaking poets around you

And dwell dreamer’s minds night and day

TIME.

The prompt this week at Poetry Jam is age, aging, aged… I wrote about how it feels when time goes by far too quick, when you can’t catch up with it but you’re expected to fulfill some socially held demands according to how old you are, no matter how you feel about it - worried, overwhelmed, not ready yet…

This is the first time I post a poem of mine, so I hope everyone who reads it enjoys it.

I’ve always seen myself as a drifter

In search of a place to hide

From you, my most feared whisper

That I had to finally give in to life

You always ran faster than I could

And unlike you I went so slow

That I couldn’t heal my old wound

In the hands of such merciless foe

But in escaping I saw no light

For clocks would never stop

So I found myself lost in your night

In the twilight of my childish hope

And you’re so cruel to me

Pushing me to blindly fly

Through a violent breeze

In a never-ending grey sky

And I should be able to survive

But there’s not much hope to hold

When it’s freezing outside

And I’m wearing no coat