For Me

Supposed not to be here or anywhere else,
Distilled in drops of deep spirit,
I'm writing my first song for myself,
For the one that I used to banish.

Song for me,
The unseen,
Going down,
Coming mean,
With no meaning
Deep within.

Staring at me, hating me,
All those years and the years to come
They all have kept me trapped inside myself
Leaving me lose all hopes.

Song for me,
The ignored
Behind walls
With no doors
Have to leave
To the shore...
Song for me
The ignored.

To Believe

Struggling daily to believe in words,
Spoken, that have lost their silent gold,
Ending letters, I'm sincerely yours,
Even though I'm not sincerely mine.

Promising to me a clear sky,
Every day is closer to my loss
Desperately chasing it, I try
To keep it further in a daily dose.

My broken glasses returned to mirrors
Back into temselves, water they may be
Cascading thought-like, we cannot hear
Their shine on eyes that we could never see.

Ending letters, I say
Sincerely yours,
Still pray
For the day I'll be sincerely mine.

Sticker on my Nails

Your face, multiplied, can no longer be
More than a sticker on my nail, to see
At a slow pace and to be seen alike;
Enhanced walking poster, you're not for my walls,
Other's tears may drink your colour.

Me, just me, fashionistic me
I'm going to be free.

Grass may let its pigment printed on your face
Having you, in brutal, unwanted embrace:
With the clipped-down nails, you are down again,
Yo be stepped on,

Me, just me, machinistic me
I'm going to be anything but free.

Showcase

Smallest light, draped in skies,
Roundest way it may find,
Inside spiralling eyes,
Ancient fruits without rind.

For the plastic caterpillars,
Shall we make plastic trees?
Or invent some new pillars
To support the debris.

Trapped inside his coccoon,
Butterfly-wannabe
Scaring off a monsoon,
Plastic birth it may see;

Innocence can be bought
From the store nearby;
Faster can be absorbed
Into light, never cry.

Heir of Nothing

Heir of nothing, subliminally, something is what you have,
When, above all, you rise, your glory with you
Like a fidellious slave.
All your bliss is borrowed, to the ones that are true.

Leave it all behind
In he wind that takes it,
You gold is no more than dust.

Walking on the banks of the river, you feel life
Flowing without you, heir of nothing,
In your songs, there is the same roar
Of wheels that have no oil.

Put life at work
Move faster as its pace slows down,
Heir of nothing...
Time's all you've got,
Part of nothing.

Anything's Possible

From within her heart, she couldn't see the sun,
So trapped she was, in her sin,
She didn't know where to begin
To make her way on the water and on fire.

Anything's possible, she kept on repeating,
Until she lost the meaning of it.

She saw only stone, not thinking of cutting it,
Till a drop of water pierced her hiding place.
At what pace?
Well, she didn't know it.

Anything's possible, she kept on repeating,
Until she found the meaning of it.

Just herself,
On a shelf,
Just a book
Made of soul.
Take a look
At its whole
Where good and evil are just two faces.

Anything's possible, we keep on repeating,
First we lose the meaning of it, then ve believe in it.

All Her Fault

It's all her fault for being caught
Uncovered, there, down for the slaught.
She must have carried an invisible burden
That nobody else can see.
She cannot be set free from all that she carried
Ever since.

It's all her guilt that drove her there
She must have stepped the road with care
She cannot be innocent, she's still pretending
The others did her harm.
Yet we all know, the truth is not on her side,
If it was, why did she try to hide?

Behind her clouds, the're nothing but thunder,
Nobody else could build.
You don have to look closely and wonder
Why her eyes are anger-filled,
You know it's all her fault,
Contained in just one thought, You cannot wash it away,
And yes, she'll pay.

She'll pay
For the blame
You have given to her.

Reloaded Hourglass

In the hourglass, I saw you,
Reflecting particles of sand
On your shimmering body,
Trapped in the perfect shape.

Time had its needles inserted,
Disabling your wings of fire,
From further flying under skies.

Broken hourglass meant no pain,
Nothing more than lost time.
Fallen leaves that left you nude
In the burned-out sun.

Salvation that didn't came,
Still hung up on the telephone,
There to receive calls.

Still, I think hourglasses as prisons,
Also starring in conceptual plays.

Shift in Your Look

Trying on the latest model of teardrop,
Especially designed to fit the standard size
Of your cold, dark, yet so bright eyes,
You vanish on the streets I'm drawing in my mind.

Can I find you behind all those sketches I've made
When I couldn't see you?

Your nails are enough to tear me all apart,
To break in half all my visions of life,
And to leave them colourless; art
Can't be more than your glamourized reflection.

Can I find you blue, ready to be painted again,
Now when I can see you?

Nothing more than a shift in your look,
Unplanned,
Unexpected,
Breaking my stainglass I'm showing to the world.

Do They Think We Really Care?

The whole world is going down, every minute, as we see
While we're sitting in our rooms, in front of our TVs.
Earthquakes, plane crashes, floods that wash lives away,
Quick imprisonments, murders, other crimes, we don't pay
Any bit of attention, so we sleep during the day.
All those pieces of news they keep aiming at us
Don't give any new thrills, though they make such a fuss.
Every tiny thing happens and they put it on the air,
But above everything, do they think we really care?

Presidents taking turns to speak in front of us,
Yet we're late for the job, we must be on the bus,
Our ears filled with microscopic headsets,
We can hear the sounds, all's as good as it gets.
There's another war we have to know about,
While we're heading for the shop or we're going just out.
In the restaurant, we're served a brand new tragedy,
That we consume along with our food, foolishly.
In the wild, when we take a few breaths of fresh air,
We breathe in newer facts: do they think we really care?

Packing our lunches in yesterday's newspaper,
We read something about a violent rapper,
Who shot six, then run away from the police station,
Now, he's loose, possibly living in his brand spanking mansion.
We don't have any money, and we think that someday
We'll be able to buy some new houses, we may
Try too hard to obtain all we need, our hands bare,
Our eyes sore, we're sooo tired, do you think we really care?

We don't care, we don't care, we don't care, we don't care.

For a Cartoon Star

You cannot show me your talent at its epitomy
Because you're highly obsessed with my deep anatomy,
Though I'm still here and ready to be impressed,
Still on with all my buttons ready to be pressed,
Like every single man, you're more attracted to flashlights,
Than to glitters on my body and words 'bout human rights.
Need disco balls instead what you've got to feel good,
A loud music spiced up with loud drums and dark pistols,
Nude dancers, well-fitted, nothing to do with Bristol.
Even if you're shining, you just need some new mud,
To make you enjoy every single taste bud.
Your eyes staring at that screen while they're playing Rosebud,
You're no citizen Kane, and no real Braveheart,
All you paint on your face is far away from fine art.
Posing way too much for a man your age,
You own nothing more than a stupid dog's cage.
Want to buy, though I've told you I am never for sale,
I'm too strong, so don't ever bother to inhale
Me instead of your crack, usually I'm free,
Yet no cheap, so you'll never have a piece of me.

Rain

Sudden eclipse without a shadow,
Cut down by thunder blades.
Broken into blunt shades,
The light makes its way to the eye.

Tears coming down,
Plain,
Stain-removing,
No other use.

Struck by light, he draws back,
Leaving outside his only love,
Both under and above
His eyes, new and un-shut.

Tears coming up,
Fast-coloured,
Bright,
Jack of all trades.

Rain, rain, rain,
Ever-dissolving
Drunk and confused
Fuss fighters.

Similar to Freedom

Similar to freedom,
Stardom-like,
Syndrome-like,
Close to escape,
Our life is.

Iconoclastic,
Image-like,
Movement-like,
Fast-paced, slow-paced
Our life is.

It is not,
It can't be
Set free.

Lost in change,
Stable-like,
Glamour-like,
Hell and heaven
Our life is.

Heavy burden,
Light-like,
Darkness-like,
On and off
Our life is.

It is not,
It can't be
Set free.

To my Prison Mate

Hello, prison mate I've never met,
Sharing the same life,
Soaked in tears, all wet,
Waiting to dry in the sun of joy.

I wish I carried your heavy skies,
I wish you carried mine.

Hey, prison mate, I've just remembered your name,
Similar to mine, and your mind,
That you hide in words, yet I can find
It so brilliant, underneath what you say.

I wish I took off your chest the earth where you were burried,
I wish you took me out of my tomb.

Prison mate, looking at you, I can't stand you wounds
Though I don't tell you to cover them;
Your hands carry the shade of your shackles, the same
That surrounded my wrists.

I wish I could take your pain in my body,
I wish you endured my endeavours.

Dear prison mate, I can't say I love you
I don't know if I love you or not,
Yet I'd give you my chances for escaping,
Though I don't have a lot.

I wish I could set you free,
I wish you gave me wings to fly.

Found on the Street

On every corner, someone is waiting
A different face put on,
Instead of the usual mask,
Shotgun-carrying.

The ball, dropped on a passer-by,
Flowery, stained in blood,
Ready-made for a war
Between how and what to buy,
Non-lethal, it destroys all your thoughts
Of opposition.

New position, that takes hours of practise,
Shown in magazines,
You have to adopt, when you have sex on the moonlight
And under the sheets of paper,
Under the sand desk, you might.

Found on the street,
The diary you meet,
Written inside,
Broken outside,
Burned into pages,
Turned into cages
For words.

How to Cry without Reason

Torn into pieces, lost in the sand,
Your blood into a flood,
Pain inside ready to expand,
And catch every piece of the world within it.

Yet you cry
Without reason.
Without reason,
You cry.

Stepped on, you should believe
You are the earth you've been made of,
The patterns on the soles are the ones to relieve
You from your shapelessness, converting you into a negative.

Yet you cry
Without reason.
Without reason,
You cry.

Languages on your lips, like lipstick shades, fade away,
You belong to a country that doesn't exist,
Paying your thoughts in coins that stay
As long as no one wants, in your hands.

Yet you cry
Without reason,
Without reason,
Yet you cry.

You forget all the names you've been given,
All the sins that have been forgiven,
Clouds embrace you with shivers and rain,
Leaving you without the blue.

Yet you cry
Without reason,
Without reason,
Yet you cry.

20 Years

20 years old body,
Belonging to nobody,
Broken by everybody,
Coming out of all sin.

Wrapped in silk everyday,
Or in denim, washed away,
Body hanging all day
On the line coming in.

So unlikely to dry to dry in the sun,
Yet so dried out of wishes and lust,
Uncovered in age-old rust,
All the time on the run.

Phantasizing to be
Plain uncovered and free,
20 years old body,
Given to everybody,
Belonging to nobody.