Tuesday, June 25, 2013

five - Junkies

A junky is a lost soul that craves for more
A junky wants to feel and see it all.
Some junkies can not love.

FAr away he wants to be, I just want to kiss his lips
have him kiss my face,
even though I haven't tried the things you've tried.
Done the things you've done, I want to feel like
we are one (won).

Want to think I am the FIrst girl you've loved.
Except you wont love me,
you'll run away and say/claim it is for my own good.
fuck you, don't protect me.
fuck you, don't tell me who I should or should not love.
fuck you, I wanna be and fuck with you.

FOr the first time I saw you
I saw no junky
I saw a delicious man
that dreamt of mountains,
our indigenous ancestors,
who could wear a mustache like any other.

A junky is not a junky and nothing more.
I could/ have loved a junky
just don't forsake me.
Instead treat me sweets and happy pills
Let us dive in oblivion together.

Saturday, June 15, 2013

My Broken Tights

Friday, January 07, 2011
Broken Tights
My broken tights.
I wasn’t ready for the action,
It took me by surprise. Opened my legs as I felt his fingers crawling
through my loins. Pressure, reaction.  
The sight of a young man sucking licking slowly my nipples, in joy.  He is at peace. He’s found a home.
Take me savage. Make me violent. Hear my roar of desire.
More, more.
 It only lasted a few hours. Three to be exact. I would have wanted a whole night.
A whole lifetime of pleasure, it’s so divine.
Constant interruptions, cell phones, alarms, regrets.
I regret none! I’ve wanted him for so long.
Ask me, where is your man? And I’ll tell thee, “He is not home, he is not with me. I want him far. Away from me.”
Enraged crowd don’t scoll me, for I believe I must stay true to the heart. To the feeling, to the pulse, to his fingers.
The crawly fingers that want more, deeper. The crawly fingers of a young man that find their way into the insides of a young woman.
Cheat! Cheat! I longed for the action.
Cheat! Cheat! Im cheating my heart, my pulse and my desire.
Blame me not for my hot adventure. Blame me yet for this constant neglection.
I shall blame my broken tights, peeping holes into my rosy wet lips.
Regret not. Not thee.
 

Friday, June 14, 2013

Suaves y Blancas


Hoy al mediodía cuando desperté
el vodka me hizo ver todo azul
tres botellas de agua al lado del colchón
escupí muchas veces
pero esta bien
solo es una celebración, porque estuve donde debía estar
en tus tetas,  blancas
en tus costillas
en la nave cabaña que nos protege de la lluvia
donde podemos dormir

y pienso pura mierda
me gustas tanto
que me haces escribir pura mierda

esto no es bruto
es amor
puro.
 
- Jose Ibañez
 

 

******
Este es un poema que un amigo escribió sobre mí en el 2009. Recién me lo paso. Me gusto por que es como, tan malo, que es bueno. Buena mierda. Lo público para no perderlo jamás.