sol en ocho

Enemigo de la guerra
y su reverso, la medalla
no propuse otra batalla
que librar al corazón
de ponerse cuerpo a tierra
bajo el paso de una historia
que iba a alzar hasta la gloria
el poder de la razón
y ahora que ya no hay trincheras
el combate es la escalera
y el que trepe a lo más alto
pondrá a salvo su cabeza
Aunque se hunda en el asfalto
la belleza...

Míralos, como reptiles,
al acecho de la presa,
negociando en cada mesa
ideologías de ocasión;
siguen todos los raíles
que conduzcan a la cumbre,
locos porque nos deslumbre
su parásita ambición.
Antes iban de profetas
y ahora el éxito es su meta;
mercaderes, traficantes,
más que nausea dan tristeza,
no rozaron ni un instante
la belleza...

Y me hablaron de futuros
fraternales, solidarios,
donde todo lo falsario
acabaría en el pilón.
Y ahora que no quedan muros
ya no somos tan iguales,
tanto vendes, tanto vales,
¡viva la revolución!
Reivindico el espejismo
de intentar ser uno mismo,
ese viaje hacia la nada
que consiste en la certeza
de encontrar en tu mirada
la belleza… (Aute)

english pick in english... i got what i want it ... i was waiting for your call but your appearence restored my imagination... it was your opinion what was not quite accurate. but you were right in the first place... im just a lyer... you dont know me well. you thought that i was going after you... but you were wrong. i tried to be tought but it always ended bad. i dont care know. im supersticius but clever. i care for things you dont believe in. you care for things i dont understand and im not interested in. is that when i hate you im hating myself at the same time. i see myself in your imagined rolled eyes of boredom and i start to worry. something is after me. im running far away from that moment i cant stop running far away from you. yesterday i thought that was the end. now i understand something else. i understand that its time to stop running away. i can see things are clear and drama is not welcome. you are right once again and for that is that i love you when i understand you. if i can understand your thinking i feel alone. i fell off the picture. i worry. but you dont believe me. i feel that i know this picture from another adventure. and suddenly is not you or me. is the matrix of the brain theatre. but im living it again again and again and i wonder everytime what is that i have to learn? what is that im not getting of the sequence? what is that im missing that i repeat to remember? and suddenly i feel jumping from stone to stone from door to door but i can see the matrix. i can compare the matrix because its impossible to be aware of the whole picture being in the picture at the same time. and i want to wake up. i ask to wake up. i cant solve the riddle. i dont want to see. and for that i rest and dream another night waiting for a new sign. for a new song to sing. ilegal loving. but they are only fantasies. and those fantasies keep me from reacting. one day i thought the dream was over. but i oversleep the next night. and what happened was that i want it to change because i realised life was passing by and i was passing by the train because i was lost too many times. and opportunities never stopped by because i spend too many nights dreaming i was someone else. tonight i know that frankly i was a missed. because i was never there where i have to be. i was late or missedunderstood or to clumpsy to realise. i decided to take the hard rode and then i listened that we are all going to meet at the end of the road and to shake hands. thank you for sharing the movie with me. im just an actress but i played my role poorly. you didnot believe me. i was over reacting one more time. and one more time i was kicked off the movie road. and thats when i could finally find myself. yes. another day in gothic city bay. you like me when i forgot. i like you when i was not being for you. i like when we really meet. but that is almost always an exception of the common rule. we are just animals. words are excuses.

arquitecto de costados imperfectos
carpintero de ángulos groseros
conjuro para lamentos obscuros
psicoanalista de las aristas del artista
director de comerciales y publicista
el personal trainner de los equilibristas
no creyó la farsa histérica
que mimetizaba sentimientos protohistóricos
gestos habían sido rigidizados
durante tanto tiempo convertidos
en huso horario, hábito de planisferio.
exageros y excesos sobreactuados
¿dónde estaba ella entonces?
en otro lugar, con otros, haciendo otros planes.
sin embargo, la muy turra lo había fingido todo
para obtener sólo aquello que quería.
¿quién abusa a quién?
pero la habían descubierto in fraganti
y sólo la honestidad la salvó, que es su esencia escondida.
esa corazonada de entender cuando el show se terminó
y a bajarse de la calesita, a sacarse la coronita.
encontrarse por un rato a solas
reflexionando de la devolución,
el vómito de su propio mensaje en forma invertida.
y dice luca del muerciélago,
"yo estoy al derecho, dado vuelta estás vos"
eventualmente el tema del año será pulverizar viejas estructuras. como implica atravesar lugares comunes, sentimientos que regresan, poses que se instalan que sirvieron adaptativamente?, pero que ya no hay excusas, ya no las hay.
Allá a lo lejos, Febo asoma.