Winter nights

The hum of silence is broken

with unexpected shots the night accelerates,

at the distance,

the sirens sing,

not even the tumultuous noise steals his peace.



With an absent gaze he looks at the horizon,

searching for a silent wall,

or a warm imaginary room.



The cold climbs up like an army of ants,

seeks warmth among the remains,

and he falls asleep in a corner.



On the street a V6 sighs deeply

announcing a new dawn,

his skin twists between the cardboard

and the tape repeats itself.

Comics

I can feel the heat of adrenaline
as it evaporates into the mist,
the disturbing looks of the people
like butterflies flying in solitude.

May a miracle happen
in the valley sheltered by infinite lights,
with streets full of nameless people,
drawing comics of their insipid reality.

Please someone save us!
in a city inhabited by forgotten souls.

I see it in the graffiti scribbles
and in the traces of poorly washed blood,
where unknown shots steal dreams from angels.

A rosary of blue pearls adorns his memory,
divine image that is reflected in the eyes of his son,
the innocence of the little one
awakens motherhood within me
and faith blooms timidly,
in the shared tear on the friendly cheek.

🎎

Most of the time,
love poems sound too glamorous,
for what really happened
and for those who were the participating actors,
ordinary people disguised as romanticism.

Definition of self

I don’t think our profession should define us…we are unlimited… writing, painting, dancing, building, being serious and acting like a child at times….I love doing it all

Society shouldn’t define us but most important, our image of who we think we are should never define US

Gosh sorry …

But I do love movies with happy endings!

Why do I pole dance?

I do it because deep, deep inside my body is sacred and I want to express my love of sound through movement.

The human body is artistic by nature,

we don’t have to hide it,

I don’t have to hide the stretch marks of my pregnancy

or the celulitis from being a healthy woman

or each inch of my skin

If it wants to feel free,

Moving with the melodies.

I paint the feeling of my times,

I write what I see

It’s my responsibility to use these gifts so people understand, the times we’re living. ❤️

If the universe gave us these gifts

I feel it is our duty to express the spirit of the time we are living in this specific moment in time and register history.

Dandelion

Magnanimous and impatient awaits the dawn,

seems like wanting to escape

from its perennial nocturnal existence.



Its golden glow

It blinds me and it catches me

Atomic Boosted Magic

by the invisible hand of life:

she reflects fire in my eyes.



Time exterminates instants

and I see her naked,

in catharsis;

she is not weeds,

is cosmopolitan.



I see her tiny and imposing,

prey to an unknown destiny,

and with a warm breath I’ll take it

and with a warm breath,

I make their delirious hair fly.



They fly free in the hands of chance,

which unintentionally inhabits me.

Incense

Time…

Incense that burns,
a bouquet of familiar scents,
exotic at times,
as if they were from another heart
that I barely recognize as mine.

I lose myself in images of smoke
that are disfigured in the wind
floating against gravity
where I consume myself

Oh longed nirvana,
there in the silence of the rosary,
flying between the clouds of your bed
sheltered in the smell of your air,
where I accidentally discover as a blessing
an unexpected calm.

Astronomical mess

History is written with force
from the darkest places
tired towers crumble,
before crushing judgments
among the ruins.


They fall while emitting uncomfortable cracks
and a floating army of particles
that choke when breathing.


Life is an astronomical mess
incredibly beautiful tones
seen against the light.