Thursday, 30 September 2010

Autumn, at last

It is over, now
over the fields, moisture dwells
on dry summer leaves.

Wednesday, 29 September 2010

Just by...

As long as we live
in selfless kindness, we give 
just by existing.

Tuesday, 28 September 2010

If only we chose to see

In my world, to see
is my personal motto;
and love, the wide path
to vanish sadness
or the desire to reclaim
what was never ours:
Ideas of perfect
just as we wish to have it,
despising its flaws,
clinging to our need
to make it all work our way,
ignoring virtues
that hide because we deny
the beauty of life,
simply as it is.

Sunday, 26 September 2010

Inception (of the mind), inspired by the movie

Meditation dreams,
death of what is real, or fake
when we reach limbo:
the viral regret
and the sour, stabbing neglect
pleading to let go.

And then, we rise up
in absolute dark blankness
where nightmares simply crack
at the sound of a chimeb
and two snapping fingers
announcing Buddha,

the awaken one.

Friday, 24 September 2010


Gold! it will all be,
the sinking sun, the quiet pond
and the musty leaves.

On Equinox day

Fullmoon rain falls loose,
soulmating in loneliness 
with the dreamy night.

Wednesday, 22 September 2010

Broken storm (haiku)

Waterfalls of light
filter through the guarding clouds,
blessing restless waves.

Equinox (Haiku)

Fall leaves, falling free.
Deep honey lights chant and leak
through the sleepy mist.

Tuesday, 21 September 2010

Nirvana (with English translation)

"No, no sé nada"
dice la luz, hambrienta
de sol vacío.

"No, I know nothing"
says the craving light, hungry
for an empty sun.

The pursuit of...?

Men made man greedy:

egos as empty balloons

floating aimlessly.

Haiku of hope for the lonely

Split in syllables,
lonesome street songs cry and mend
my broken love dreams.

Thursday, 9 September 2010

Haiku for The Hague

Hush, hush, The Hague speaks.
Powdery rain pours over
creaking steamy streets.

Wednesday, 8 September 2010

Farewell to the summer

Weeping willow trees,
a coffin, crushed leaves
in cracking stillness.

Monday, 6 September 2010

Little prayer for stray dreams

 Nyx, goddess of the night, William-Adolphe BouguereauLa Nuit (1883)

Lullaby after lullaby,  the graceful gods of the silence whisper the nightly songs of the ebony angels. Like gracious tempting shadows, mysterious stray dreams dance and tease the raven feathers of my tired eyes.  As if longing for shelter, the goddess Nox softly squeezes herself into my velvet pupils and I have no other choice but to surrender to her blank blanket of darkness. And I embrace her lovingly, with the faith that in a fraction of a second, someone, somewhere, won't shed a drop of blood or sorrow, nor a tear of fear. 


No more.