An Unknown Dimension

As a whisperer to earths and heavens,
And a wanderer with an ancient heritage,
A nomad with a distant destined future,
Nearing to the point where everything halts,
Abrupt discovery of an unknown universe,
Through a dimension unbeknown to him,
As he starts to swim into her galactic eyes,
Fading into her warm hallowed curves,
Dancing to her rhythmic smiling beats,
Playing an instrument on her delicate skin,
A melodious musical just between the two,
Under celestial guidance to forever bloom,
And until that day arrives, he sends letters,
Of many hugs and kisses, and of infinite love.

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To My Offspring

I just wrote an encrypted letter,
Layered with seven coding systems,
Then I rolled it for a forgotten era,
Picked up a green ribbon for a knot,
A clear glass bottle for transportation,
And a sea for an unknown itinerary,
Forty-six months without a reply,
Trapped in a dimensionless time,
Awaiting the whispers of an angel,
Voices of my ancestry start to tremble,
The return of our long-lost kingdom was
But a mirage in a servant’s mind,
The forest trees have burnt,
The valleys became arid wastelands,
Scorching heat and starless nights,
And all I could wish for was the comfort in
Lying over our forefathers’ graves,
Keeping an eye for the falcon’s shadow,
In hope for a living, for a resurrection,
For some powerful force to guide the
Bottled letter through the nine oceans,
But it is my time to bid you farewell, Offspring.

The Death of Stars

Since the dark ages of Apollo cursing
The crow, the cup, and the water snake,
Since the monsters of our own beings
Reproduced the wonders of storytelling,
Will we ever forsake some of our privileges
To remember the sacred names of nature?
He arises among the debris to denounce
The arrogance of the stars in the Big Dipper,

And from dusk to dawn unearthing
The shapeless bones of a raging soul,
Fiery in the sense of a burning coal,
And Hydra with its fading tail soon
Took its head to devour the gods of men,
And it curves around celestial bodies,
Travelling through copious dimensions,
To find a relic and reclaim the throne,

Except, the presence of another monster,
Quivering the heavens into a black hole,
Hercules now far from reaching its neck,
An old neighbour of the grape gatherer,
With its blistered bellowing barks asking
For a chance to show its beautiful heart,
But since earthly men never truly change,
Facing Polaris, the monster was publicly slain.

Breathing a Life

Torn between two dimensions,
To live a lie amongst old lovers,
And treat newly sliced wounds,
Here, now, I can’t breathe right,
Neither can I walk well nor talk,
Nor can I bright my own eyesight,
And I am torn here for over there,
The lovely change of my new life,
Pages in my own history written
For more years; abruptly ended,
To live in my own: free, for me,
Selfish, undeniably, but at least
I will be able to breathe again.

My Twin

This angel that I’m inscribing letters to
Has placed many lovely prints on my
Final magical days in the lands of Gael,
We met a while ago but the exhausting
Spin of this world has put the gravity
On our shoulders to never meet again,
Except recently where we discovered
The popularity of (in chorus) corazón,
After which we began sharing melodic
Remedies for the mind, body, and soul,
This angel is now my twin who explores
With me dimensions of ecstatic dances,
And we start our sentences with laughs,
And we randomly end it with even more.

Painting a Portrait

The two-dimensioned dilemma switched sides
To impersonate historical ageless Time where
At one end the black-and-white canvas would
Rotate into a pictorial film and scream aloud
Ancient symbolic letters for peace and justice.

Certainly, this era’s dogma about our truly old
Unpainted portraits revolved around ignoring
The essence of life dismissing the colossal law
Of the starry constellations among our shining
Sun, our glowing Moon, and our celestial souls.

Then the plot thickens after an innocent kid
Picks up brushes and a colour-filled palette
To openly colour its own portrait accidentally
Triggering the reversal movements of Time
As anti-clockwise severely destroys all dreams.

Albeit, the kid grows and learns to unlock
That treasure box and remove the partially
Painted canvas to tear it apart in hope that
One day Time will listen to this kid’s sorrows
Switching back to a one-dimensioned film.

Two Dimensions

The tongue will not speak up the words
I am willing to share with this bright world.
Time has given a divine accusation to
A crumbling soul: split between two
Dimensions separating the limbs towards
The opposite polar – the nasty negative
And the pure positive – having a go at
My delicate heart burning it to ashes
As the blood boils the magnificent mind
Into accepting the fate of its bodily
Joints to get twisted beyond repair.
There I typed it since the tongue is still
Not brave enough to free its twists tangled
Between two very different worlds; each
Going through an enormous phase of
Continuous collisions. This begets an
Aspect of life lived for the lies of others;
Only hesitation would creep into
Mine as I put on an act for an audience
Deemed to become a mirage. But since
The mask is a bit crooked, loosening it
Is the only option, so I try to take it off,
But then my world would disintegrate
Below the earthly dust and form a
Massive grave that I would just have
To voluntarily (in pain) crawl into.