I sleep the hunger, but it always returns,
Insatiable, ravenous, in search of expression,
And while the fever of words torments me,
I seek in the emptiness of night, the peace that eludes me.
There are moments that hang in the air,
Suspended in the longing to grasp hearts,
In a farewell of handkerchiefs, like a pilgrimage in prayer,
They weep softly, seeking attention.
An agony disguised as routine,
Pretending to be something else, light, genuine.
But deep down, you are what you write without knowing,
A record of yourself, a letter fading away.
The book of wisdom then opens,
Page by page, in the quest for knowledge,
Each test is a trial, it is the mission,
For those who seek to earn the diploma.
I had it all, I thought, for a brief second,
But time is wind, a fleeting breeze,
And the tears that fall, like curtains,
Are just memories of what has been left behind.
For love, born in challenge and pain,
Breaks the chains that the world imposed,
And even in prison, retains the glow,
That only the freedom of God composed.
My greatest glory at the end of the day,
Is to thank God for His presence,
To feel His beauty, His gaze, His melody,
Which in every gesture brings forth hope.
While they count what glitters,
I count the whispers that the chest carries.
Each word is a flame to be ignited,
And on the torn pages, perhaps, I will live.
Longing does not make me weep,
For I have learned, in silence, to be with myself.
In the quietude of the spirit, I find the place
Where pain dissolves and peace comes to rest.
Among the flames of deceit and illusion,
The soul that does not allow itself to be corrupted endures,
For being authentic, against the tide,
Is an act of love, it is living to the fullest.
I have nothing to fear, not even the night,
For He leads me with His powerful might.
In deep valleys or mountains of bright hue,
It's His love that always pulls me through.
The light that guides me does not come from the stars,
But from the infinite that reveals itself in Him,
And at the end of the day, in sincere prayer,
I find peace again in His beautiful promise.
The prophecy, silently delivered to me,
Slipped through my fingers, and belief disintegrates.
Now, I am left with lament for what I did not see,
For the faith that dissolved the moment I let it flee.
The smell of the earth, soft and fertile,
Enfolds the body in a slow embrace,
The brown sheet, which the gaze sinks into,
Covers the eternal sleep, as a breath.
When the world falters and the soul shakes,
Your love never hides nor breaks.
It is a beacon guiding beyond the storm,
An eternal embrace, steady and warm.
I am here, waiting for the divine call,
To lead humanity to the promised realm.
Together, we shall raise the city of genuine love,
Where each heart is a temple, and fear will be forgotten.
May these flowers, in gentle splendour,
Represent the eternal fragrance of my love.
Each petal, a whisper, a promise made,
Of deep affection that never fades.
One day, when you look at the sky, you will see a shooting star,
It will be me, ending my veil, in a surprising cry.
In a flash of explosion, I will cease to be a scattered atom,
And in the void, I will be the solution, an inverse enigma.
It is there, at the centre of this mystery,
That I find myself whole, without needing to see,
For it is in being that the divine is eternal,
And the word ceases to be a word, just to be.
The feeling pulses, alive and fervent,
In this book of life, each page is a seed.
The gaze turned to writing, memory of a people,
That blooms in hope, in a newer tomorrow.
Let my heart be firm as a rock,
But gentle as the love You taught us.
May faith in You be the flame that never dies,
And my life, the reflection of Your vastest truth.
Everything I felt, I kept to myself,
I didn’t share with anyone, it stayed in my chest, indeed,
Here, in this account of the soul, I find my place,
To be and describe what I always saw overflowing.
Lord, keep me on the path of love,
Where the light is soft, and there's no pain.
Guide my steps with your warmth,
Fill me with peace, in your radiant reign
The wind blows over the faded words,
While the shadows of the statues remain silent.
But even if time erases what was written,
The silent pain remains in the infinite.
I wish the world would understand,
That in the poet’s soul, the universe blooms,
And that each verse is a sincere reflection,
Of love, of pain, of the eternal mystery.
Oh Christ, the idea sighs for a gesture,
A wink that lights up the universe,
Your glow alone is enough to ignite the rest,
In the inner battle where the heart is immersed.
Everything is so little, and the gaze sighs,
In silent admiration, the soul withdraws.
It longs to be what it has never broken,
Due to a lack of inspiration, the dream is forsaken.
Love, in its essence so pure,
Will always find reasons to exist,
Even in times of doubt or demure,
Its fire will never cease to twist.
77 Poems 2025, a book soon to be released.
Ghost Poet
Seek not excess in the moon’s dark side,
Remain where light and spirit reside,
With neither hatred nor excuse to weigh your flight,
Nurture thyself in a realm serene and bright.
The thought in constant search,
Tired, it sweats in its bitterness,
At times it finds nothing, lost in fortune,
While the door becomes a display,
Under the gaze of my madness.
When you stop tying your shoelaces,
Life, in its steps, becomes uncertain,
You stumble over small distractions and pains,
And the fall comes, sudden and awake.
I try to prevent orphanhood from rising,
To keep the scales from tipping and age from reaching its end,
But the world, divided, seems to no longer deliver,
Lost in chaos where love finally fades.
In chaos, the shadow of a promise is raised,
Where the word is lost in the crowd.
But in the breeze, there is a whisper, a prayer,
That tears through the sky with the purest devotion.
Each pain is a part of me, a bond I do not undo,
They are scars I keep, in a space-less embrace,
And so I go, in uncertain flight, but with a awakened soul,
Searching the world for the path that sets me right.
Do not be surprised by my voice,
For it is not solely mine,
It echoes from the silence, where all becomes light,
It comes from God, where truth walks bright.
I advance stumbling, without a certain direction, And each step is a scattered echo, I am what never arrives, what always waits, In the restlessness of a soul that does not thrive.
My dear daughter, one day you will know,
That the love which exists in my heart,
Will be, through ages and ages, the eternal charm
That will guide you throughout your beautiful life.
You are a Christ of Christ, or you believe you are,
A reflection shaped in the trace of His face,
The continuous line that runs without haste, without feet,
Towards the point where the infinite meets the opposite.
Each word is a verse that springs,
From a restless soul, that never tires,
And in the lines I trace, in silence or pain,
Resides the essence of my love.
This glory of feeling you, oh Christ,
Makes me a renewed man, more just, more pure.
Able to follow your steps, as an attentive disciple,
Hearing Your voice in the wind and in the safest silence.
Nature, pure, raw, and nude,
Stripped of artifice, without haste,
Reveals itself in its perfect simplicity,
Where silence and beauty confess themselves.
Like a thief of love,
Spending the night in silence,
In the cold bed of shame,
Where the echo of broken promises
Whispers truths that the heart dreams.
In that profound silence, where the cry fell still,
Hearts are reborn, free from pain.
And in the echo of truth, sung by the soul,
We will find, at last, eternal love.
These inner conversations,
Are like shadows that reappear,
Memories of an old dish,
That in the present I consume again,
Even knowing that digestion is yet to come.
More than the certain or the uncertain,
It is the being, the breathing deeply,
Without expecting, without measuring, without counting,
Just existing, in the vast sea of the world.
You are the source of my true essence,
And in Your light, my soul shines bright.
Beside You, there is no fear or resistance,
Only a love that strengthens with all its might.
The poet bears the weight of truth,
Wrapped in words, he weaves his reality,
And even if the world sees him as mad,
It is in his madness that he finds his focus.
Prisoner of Time, Volume 2, 2008 - Page nº 22
Ghost Poet
In every victory,
Hidden in the stories,
There is the taste of defeat,
A bitterness that goes unnoticed.
In every step, in every smile of yours,
There I will be, even if the world does not notice.
You will always be the reason for my dream,
The light that I will forever keep.
I am the one who does not smile,
For I carry within me the pain that the soul never distracts.
The humanity I have never seen, in silence, waits for me,
To cry out in Latin, freeing the cry of truth that brings the end.
Time is a master, patient and serene,
And God guides the soul that remains calm,
Stay attentive, with faith and trust,
For the path is sure for those who have hope.
It’s in the gentle touch of a smile,
In the outstretched hand expecting nothing,
That the heart, suddenly uncertain,
Finds peace on the journey laid out.
More than the certain or the uncertain,
It is the being, the breathing deeply,
Without expecting, without measuring, without counting,
Just existing, in the vast sea of the world.
Christ, You know what dwells in my heart,
The doubts that persist, the fear that holds me back.
But I ask You, with faith, to open the perfect path for me,
The one that leads to the splendour of your goodness.
Grant me consistency to evolve,
So that in every fall, I rise stronger,
And in the silence of my soul, may I hear
Your voice guiding me in every direction.
Be, then, like the flower that blooms,
Unhurried, at the right hour, without pain,
And in the lightness that being consumes,
You will find the path of love’s refrain.
The lines I draw today in silence,
Will be echoes in the future of your awakened voice,
And when, unknowingly, you make them yours,
I will be with you, in a presence ever certain.
We return to the place we came from,
Where time does not weigh and the soul is light,
As the years pass, to struggles we succumb,
But each step brings us back to the brief.
I shall be, then, the wanderer without a crown,
Who, by losing everything, was freed,
For in the shadow where pain echoes,
Is where the heart finally reigned.
You are the Hope that never fades,
The beacon guiding the wandering heart,
And even if shadows spread around me,
Your hand holds me, steady and constant.
Now I smile, unafraid to stray,
For amidst the loss, I found my way
To the wealth that lives in each moment's light,
And the power of story, in the wind's flight.
There is a God, a being, a nature,
That governs us in a strange manner,
Hidden in the veils of pure uncertainty,
While the soul becomes enmeshed in its search.
When someone weaves us with threads of illusion,
Wrapping us in a web of pure creation,
It makes us feel like eternal artists of the world,
Where the stage is life, and the dream, the track.
In every gesture, in every glance,
Love blossoms, limitless, never-ending,
For in fullness, I am the act of loving,
And love will always be within me, transcending.
It is in the details that the path is made,
In the care to tie what seems small,
For what you ignore, sooner or later, brings
The stumble that makes the journey tall.
Christ, the symphony in a divine lesson,
Where each note of clamor and agony is tuned,
Transforming physical pain into a deep canticle,
A melody of the heart that echoes throughout the world.
If perfection exists, it is you, unmatched,
In the softness of a gesture, in the ideal touch,
You are the moment that time wished to preserve,
A piece of heaven that makes me dream.
Union, that awaited promise,
Is what will give life to the desired harvest.
May love, nurtured in the tears of the past,
Flow freely, and may the heart find its time.
Why so much suffering, I ask with no answer,
While the thousand souls within me continue their wager,
And at the bottom of the abyss, I find the profound silence,
Where the chains break, and the pain is lost in the world.
Embrace the simplicity of days,
The gentle glow of every moment,
For those who seek empty grand displays,
Lose themselves in the shadows of time’s torment.
He who is worthy to deserve
Shall receive the just share, without delay,
For in the divine balance, as it blooms,
Each soul reaps what it knows to sow.
First, learn to share
What is most pure within you,
This gesture, no matter how simple it may be,
Will make the world change according to your feeling.
The fight for dignity is worth it,
May your legacy always be remembered,
And may your life, with truth and humility,
Be a beacon for a people who are never defeated.
I prefer to be the chaos, the nameless mystery,
The crooked line that time consumes,
For in the absence of logic, I find peace,
In the disarray of life, is where truth is revealed.