The Serenading Street Urchin

Please, let us borrow some time,
Just a minute, not a dime,
It is all we need, more time.

You see sir, there is this girl I like,
For whom I’d put my heart in a spike,
Because you see, that is the girl I like.
Thank you sir!

Excuse me madam, may I borrow some time,
Just a minute, not a dime,
It is what we need, just more time.

You see ma’am, she is a pretty flower,
And all that we want is more time by the clock tower,
Because you see, with her time flies past the hour.
Thank you ma’am!

Excuse me mister officer, I did nothing wrong,
All I did was sing this song,
We really did nothing wrong.
Don’t tell us to walk along!

You see mister, all I ask for is time,
Not a cent, not a single dime,
Just a lil’bit mor’time.
Because you see mister, there is this girl that I like…

Closer Pages

Stay just a little longer,
As if we were younger;
Allowed to be a lil’reckless,
We couldn’t care less.
The longer we stay,
The closer we may…

Be
-who we want.
Be
-free
To be.
Us.

Puppeteer

It doesn’t bode well,
The stories I tell…
Lies and deceit,
An illusion’s receipt.

Fabricating beautiful lies,
As well as any man tries,
I slave away in my trade,
Singing not a serenade.

And, as the strings move and sway,
From your life I take you away.
Actions that you didn’t want,
You crumble like an infant.
Time won’t stall,
You silly broken doll.

Holycaust

Familiar faces in sparse spaces,
We question if there is to come a morrow,
We question if there is something other than sorrow.

So many questions unsolved and doors open,
But only one will set me free,
Good god, which one is meant to be?

Memóir

The weird part in all of it is that, despite the lack of lights and the lack of windows, the room was as bright as it could have been. Children laughter filled it up, writting tales on the walls, tales of all things fantastic. They built a world in that room, lit by the dim twilight and heart’s desires. They knew something new was starting, they just didn’t know what.
They knew why though and, maybe, that is all that matters. They knew why. Love carried their hearts with wings, not making them prisioners, but making them… attached, knowing that there was a place on God’s green Earth for them – a place where they were accepted and could be themselves; kids, playing around in a room.

Today I stand here staring at the crumbling walls of that old room, can’t help but fill a sense of doom and gloom. Doesn’t feel like home anymore, the peeling paint makes our drawings torn, shreded mementos of our long lost home. God… this place brings so much memories to mind, it is almost as if my body was imersed in a daydream…
I hear the circus drums as they parade through the main avenue, the song echoes in my heart and plays my strings, I smile and I see her eyes smile back.
A kiss.

Lost such a long time ago, where she is now, I don’t know.
Wish I knew, but she became a mere memory.
God knows I’ve been forgetting things lately.
How can I find someone else when I don’t know myself?
This is all I have, fragments of a life long gone, sometimes it feels as if it even was not my own, I mean, how can it be mine if I don’t recall the events, if I can’t claim ownership on past acts?
I guess I’m stuck daydreaming, I wish I was stuck living.

Tavern Man

All we want is to feel good,
As we all should
-Bottles take me away,
Small sips make my day.

I’m not anonymous,
These are not synonymous.
Crunching ice, feels nice,
Oh look, three mice.

And three wifes and three children,
Three bottles to be drinken’
-Savour me away,
Sips make my day.

Not done yet,
Not done yet.

Now I am.
Dead in my own puke.
Of bottles I’m Duke.
Gurgling.
Gurgling.

Outlet

Sight lost and unseen,
Unheard as it’s been
the true pride and joy
Is not a fearful ploy.

There is beauty in destruction,
As rubble makes construction
- As old forms new,
As rusty stitches sew.

We count the abstract,
As if time we could contact
As if just to ask of him
If the sand is running thin.
How long becomes how far,
Who we were becomes who we are.

Silly Things That Matter

Raindrops on train stations
Producing music and relations,
As each one falls and splatters
A new one forms from what shatters.

Painted clockwork on a brickwall,
Time stood still and stood tall.
Proud of itself, ticking for nobody else.

Like a wave overtaking a nation,
It becomes more than a station.
Puddle becomes lake, becomes sea,
Becomes a world we gotta see.

Into the wilderness we depart,
As strangers born apart.
But it changes us all,
So we stand still and stand tall.

Just watching the raindrops shatter
-Silly things that do matter.

Snivel

There is deceit in the way they walk,
There are lies in the lines they talk.

Bloodhounds trail blazing,
At first, so amazing…
But when the scourge rises
And the Sun expires…

We will know no one,
Our weaven tapestry undone.

Within all this shades and shadows,
Light fades and mellows,
Into a cold gray losing all yellows,
Entombed in glassy meadows.

Frozen in time unspoken,
The words for the tie broken.
Just another ticking clock on the wall…
Just another shadow on the hall..

Red Hot

Fuel, fuel to the fire,
Crumble in a pyre.
We are fuel, fuel to the fire.
Burning spire,
Fuel, fuel to the fire.

Pictures and memories,
only are fuel to the fire,
All that you’ve given,
Charred and uneven.

Fuel, all we are,
Fuel to the fire.
Burning and crumbling spire,
Of bright red fire.

So bright and so hot,
It burns even when it is not
Because all we had was fuel,
Fuel to the fire, damn this mind pyre.

Blur

Time is flickering,
Bright morning evening
- The clocktower stands tall,
The Sun sets it all.

A clumsy good,
A sharp smooth,
I don’t know how long it will last,
But whatever, out of it I’ll make the best.

A Dream I just Had – Literally

I remember a camp, seemed like it belonged to the army – but not a regular division. We were young in there, we were nothing but teenagers, ours worries and our hearts did not lay with the training we were given. We were tasked to perform maneuvers with perfection, quite a few of us however would coreograph artsy dances and present it to our capitan, a stocky middle age lady who I’ve almost never seen smile. In the yard were we performed, there were a few buildings grouped together, almost an army-slum. There was a japanese man in one of them whom I’ve met – he was blind and while I can’t recall the exact reason, which is as odd as it can be, given the impact he had on my life, I knew that simply being near him saddened me a great deal. That man had experienced great losses and still lived, somehow I felt shame of myself for how I dealed with things.
There was a woman who lived in the nested building, she had curly hair and seemed to be in her mid twenties, maybe her thirties. She was pretty but had also suffered a great deal.
One day I was talking with the blind man about things of the world and she came to us and gave him a doll, a memóir from her childhood.
Like a knife cutting through my heart and making me tremble, my eyes filled with tears. The blind man touched the doll’s face, saying it was a pretty doll… he turns to her and asks “But what is this on her face?”
Tears.
Who had made a doll with tears? I don’t know, but by now my own tears rolled down my face. I had to get out, I had to not go through both of these.
I made a run for it – and became a deserter.

I wasn’t alone in my escape, a close friend, a special lady, joined with me – she knew how to give me new life and… I’ll be honest, I have no idea why she would do that, go to so many great lengths and sacrifice her own life for mine… but I was glad. Glad to have someone nearby, to be able to fall asleep in the car knowing that I would wake up to find her still there. It was as bittersweet as it could have been.

As we travelled, I remembered of events of the past as if they were happening right now – silly things, like trying to get someone a present… I remember going into a store, seeing things with a huge discount and phoning home, it was up to 90% off. I relived playing with friends – but it felt very lonely. I remembered an event that seemed important, the reason for me being a desertor… we were invited into a radio station, me, my folks and others. I was scoffed by the people there though as a mere ‘spectator’ and that I shouldn’t speak. I was angry, but more than that I was saddened – why did I keep getting that feeling that I simply don’t belong? I remember exiting the radio station and entering a shack in which I once studied. Took a look at the work laying there, grades were better than mine. I opened it only to film mind blowing drawings, strong reds and dark ink, just how I like it. It was a noir tale too. The characters are now vague figures in my imagination, but I’ll never forget the colors…

As we went from town to town, we discovered that every plan has flaws. We made a stop – a final stop, with this car at least. We ditched it in a parking lot, I took off my military helmet, finally rid of it, broke a piece of it a nibbled, as if chewing bubblegum. We walked the ramp out of that parking lot, avoiding the cameras. As we walked, we reached a side-door in an immense building, we heard incoming voices and panicked, pressing the doorbell button. As quickly as we pressed, we were taken inside – not in a hostile manner, but as if applicants for jobs. We were asked for different names than our birth-given ones and we nodded, those would be our new names then. We took an elevator with the two man who made us panick in the first place. Upon reaching the floor, we saw what apparently was an industry all by itself, making metallic parts, welding and all things concerned. I applied for a job as a welder, having had some former practice and knowing the geist, I could probably get through it. The place had an open-sky… I remember she hugged me, clutching her legs around mine as I spined her in the air – I’ll never forget her smile.
A young and very cute lady came to talk to me about the welder job, asking if I was there just passing by or to stay…
Turns out that place was more of a community than an industry. Things were not perfect, we would see giant rims and tubes, people pass on by train tracks – but damn it… it was better than the military – it felt like, more or less, I belonged.