To my Dear Figurine

Stop the game and the festival
My fays have never been captives
Come figurine!
I just wanna unsewn you
Play hide-and-seek with you
and a thousand courtiers more

Just moisten this lips
that the other dead lover leaves left aside dry

Our merry-go-round is fuckin’ collapse
I'm just a other core victim of yours
and his eclipsing fancy need

Come figurine!
I wanna play with fire and burns all yours ideas
and conquer u madness

Filthy saint, halt! Of persecute
the never reachable stuffs
Forsake the never love one

I don't want to be love!                                                   

Figurine!
What do you do?
Who give me poison?
I don't want to play with you never more!

Filthy God, I'm you most flogged clown
Now the lion tamed by the lamb
Your last tightrope beloved
Stop this game, I’ll be sitting still ‘till waiting for you

Crêpe Heart

Is funny how…

Will I cry a seashore out?

I’ll be pleased if you let me know

At least, I am gonna be happy known it, dear

What happen to me?

What I’m comin’ thru?

Today

It wasn’t good

A mad accusing another crazy man

The moon don’t wake up

All butterfly take of my side…

This is where the tide comes in!

Where the rain can sink!

‘Cause I be dead very quick

Just count to three…

You’ve to see

What my fragile heart already did

For that

I’ll be sentence to suffering

Screaming

And lifeless poetry

Tell them is wrong

Say it!

Isn’t unbreakable

Look it!

Spiting united shame within

Is killing it!

So they will run out

When my heart is close

Colorless frames watching me

It’s surprising

A blackbird’s sing a song right now

Sad-eyed looking at

my crêpe heart…

and

Is just funny how it is at the end

When I go to sleep

Nothing yet happen to me

Saint Valentine's Circus

If it’s walking, I’m going to became faster!

If it’s mournin’, I want yell aloud!

I don’t deny my life’s razor

is cutting me inside out

but what else I can do?

You know me how I always am

Is hard change this, trust me I know

A sinner they call me

It isn’t bad (when you heard it)

It isn’t good (when they demand you)

It’s just sad when I close my eyes…

And is in the dark onset

Where I’m just another stranger in the gloomiest mask of night

First doll came!

Between a nail’s web

A kisses’ cuts

Lovers’ lie, let’s take the first step.

Valentine search

Blood in every corner of the scope

Next there!

If u see me, remember

I’m just other walker

That a proud-heart

Is giving any matter in battle

Last doll! How you?

Became my lips real?

Turn me into a loose noose?

A sideshow more!

The Saint kills lovers in every site ‘n’ room

Break free is just the first step

(remember)...

It must hurt

It’ll must have pain inside

-I must fall, indeed-

You’ll know where the slayer’s hide (in me)

So you never search for thee (in me!)

Seek is over, the circus is burnin’

This life o’mine is ending

The unlimited innocence, tonight

Is doom!

Its damned!...is crawling back in it cage again

And I be over like their dummy

Tonight!

The Tea is On...Welcome

Saludos a todos!, les agradezco de antemano por tener el estoicismo, el valor y la actitud para entrar en mi Blog. Bienvenidos resentidos a “Blood Ex Tea”.

Espero sigan a mi lado después de esta torcida travesía…

“Un libro es un suicidio aplazado” Emile M. Cioran

Mi información es bastante simple, me llamo Abraham, llámenme Abe, me siento mejor así. Soy literato desde que mi remembranza empezó a tener forma de entidad en mi psiquis, la poesía y la argumentación de mis ideas en forma de liricas es mi razón de estar aun aquí, y bueno, de tener el suficiente coraje de relatarles mis escritos, mis retoños, ramificaciones de mi mismo en forma de tinta y papel, lagrimas y humor, nostalgias y pesadillas. Lo demás esta sobrante en esta escena del crimen, porque preguntar si ya el difunto reposa muerto en el piso? Comprenden?

Les agradecería que no lloren, que no rían, que no se sorprendan… que solo  lean y sientan.

Algunos ahora ni siquiera se atreven a leer poesía, a destapar y ojear un libro, a examinar las hojas destruidas en el piso, aquí resido yo, junto a varios terceros, aunque no estoy en ese complot; tratando de hacer surgir desde las ruinas el arte de los inentendibles, los dementes y los románticos.

 Desde los praderas encendidas que Le Theatre du Grand-Guignol dejó hasta los miedos humanos asentados en la parte trasera de la ideación moderna que nos carcome ahora, junto a los horrores de algún momento de sus pasados, ahí mis fundamentos se asientan y les narran.

Espero que disfruten la lectura…una vez mas les doy la bienvenida al primer día de tu muerte…