MY PATH - written by jrqc (short poem)

I don't want to follow your path, for I already have mine,

defectuous, windy, with twists and turns here and there,

yet exciting in their own rightful way,

there is so much to say,

there is no place for what is vain,

just my wings,

just my colors and my music,

oh, that music that makes me soar up high,

so I can reach the sun, so high in the sky.

I am free in my way, I am wine, flesh and blood,

part of what is above,

part of what is yonder and high,

and I sense it within,

I sense it in my limbs.

I don't want to follow your ways, for they are yours,

and I am my own castle,

strong, cold and warm,

I am a part of everything and nothing,

I am here and I will be yonder,

for what is this world,

if nothing but a brief step in the mortality of our lives,

in the immensity of what we are inside?

Don't dwell in what is seen, but within.

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LA CHICA DEL CALLEJÓN - Descripcion de personaje de ficcion - de jrqc

Ese día el sol brillaba como siempre, bañandola en su resplendor, tornando el color de su piel en tonos de miel y nuez. Su juventud perfumaba la calle y los ojos de los espectadores no la perdían de vista. Ella era simplemente la frescura de la primavera y el calor del verano combinadas casi perfectamente en las carnes y la figura de su cuerpo. Sus senos firmes dejaban entrever las aureolas de la juventud, mientras sus piernas daban paso a ese menear característico de su coqueteo, al que daba rienda suelta así como su castaña y ondulada cabellera. Su mente anidaba la sed de ver el mundo, de ir más allá de embriagarse del placer que éste le pudiera ofrecer y sin escatimar en ambiciones y sueños ella simplemente se dejaba ir. Era la carencia de estas vivencias y posesiones que la presionaban a sumirse y ser esclava de ambiciones que a veces eran malsanas y mezquinas, pero a ella eso no le importaba. Deseaba agarrar al mundo y hacerle su esclavo, deseaba ser complacida y en su parece...

THAT EVENING - by jrqc

You once said that we are entangled to death since the moment we are born, that we are chained to this earthly prison and that there is nothing we can possibly do about it, that all joy sinks countless times and that lovers will always mourn their dead love swallowed by neverending grief. It seems somehow that sadness in all its complexity lingers within, it extends it branches all over without distinction, with no regrets for who the victim is. Some branches seem to be so rooted that it makes the heart break, it makes it bleed tears to the point that you can barely function. Yes, I do still remember that evening when you said that and I noticed your face sinking, your spirit broken. However, you wouldn't divulge the reason of your torment. Your beautiful darkened eyes were bloodshot and you observed me, intently, your eyebrows would frown at times and your stare would grow deeper as if trying to snatch my soul. You stood close to me, I could feel your cold breath, I could feel you...

WHAT AM I TO YOU? - metaphorical / existential poem by jrqc (explained)

What am I to you but a simple whisper that gets carried away by the breeze? Oh how I wish I was more than a clump of sand and bones, that drain through your fingers like water, but, could I just be more than existence? Tell me dear, for I long to be, for I long more than mere existence! In my dreams of dreams you kiss me, in my dreams of dreams you exercise your power over me, and I just succumb to the temptation of your temple, I just surrender my flesh to your overpowering caprice of molding me like clay, but tell me dear, is it gratifying being the victim of such relentless temptation? What am I to you? What do you seek from me? You kiss me with your embrace, and I tremble, and I sing to escape you, and yet still you kiss my tears, so tell me my beloved, are you here to let me go yonder where the shadows don't dare to envelop their surroundings? tell me I beg of you, for existence is vague when there is no purpose, and I long for not only the love of yours, that flesh of ...

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