My grandma is a gorgeous representation of all that mexico means to me
I wish you were around to enjoy who I’ve become, And what I will evntually be. My body and spirit have finally caught up to the superb nature of the emotions I feel for you As I grind and toil to perfect the tissues connect to my bones Every bead of sweat on my body releases traces of the old, That drove you away. And every day, as I work on my art My efforts are consumed by the fact that my muse Deserved the best I my voice had to offer, I push a littler harder Sing a little louder Reach a little further Dream a little bigger And long just a little more, For you to enjoy me, and the image you deserve
Watching love music is so inspirational. My buddy mike sanjuan http://facebook.com/mikesanjuanmusic inspires me in so many ways. He has an authentic passion for music I’ve never genuinely possessed (spelling?). I’ve always loved singing and playing music but I’ve never immersed myself the way he has. People who really don’t count on a plan B are fascinating. I know he finished college, but music is everything to him. I hope some day I can be all in like him at something I love. I was like that with someone id rather not talk about, then lost focus on what was important. I don’t know what it is about live music. Especially when you know the words and the artist looks at you while playing. Its magical. It attaches itself with the tribal wanderer inside of you. Right now he’s playing his newest song unspoken. He’s at a point where passion and dirrection have become one. This new song is something else. Its an evolution and a revelation all at once. Every time manuel hits the drums my pulse races. Super excited to see an artist create.
Much love -sw86
Its been so long Since I lived a day without you, That I need to figure out what a day is Or the smell of a breeze without your fragranced painted through it. I need to learn to live a day, Without thanking god he made you mine. The learning is the hard part. Like learning to breath again with scorched healing lungs, Finding my way towards a light with dilated pupils. Using this new sight feels like a layer has been placed over my eyes With a color pallet of sadness, hope and a bit of impatience. The world seems mad when you feel alone. It’s been so long since I lived a day without you.
I’ll spend the rest of my life Training my fingers and voice To create the sounds to show you Just how great our love was. The music remain as our emotions disolve. I’ll write the soundtrack To the life we’ll never have, And comfort your tears With the love that is still yours to own As my voice carries accross the dead space Giving life to the air as it travels to your ears You’ll know everything we should’ve know; That what we had, Was the music for lives we longed to have
I’m paying closer attention these days To my habits Making sure how I cope Doesn’t become a hundred little obsessive compulsions I’ve bruised my figer tips with my teeth Trying hard to calm their withdrawals from your skin The deep breaths help calm the anxiety but, Do little to heal the wounds on my lungs and soul I still wake up at 3 am, Hoping we slept in, I had a nightmare, And it’s time to take you home. I may very well die of ink poisoning, As my impulsive relationship with my pens, Has begun to get dangerous.
I can still draw a map of the wonders of the sky That lie between your shoulders and your hips As much as I can still recreate The image of your rested eye lids as they approached me And when I remember the moment our lips met somewhere in a distant land of memories My lips still tremble in disbelief. My eyes which for so long wanted to see the world Wish nothing more than to replay Those thousand cosmic collisions, When I met the wonders of the sky As my lips touched perfection
Note: wrote this a few months back. Gonna post stuff from the notebooks over the next few days. Hope you enjoy it :)
If pain is weakness leaving the body Then love is the greatest of all weaknesses. Love leaving my body is more painful than any hurt I’ve ever felt. I feel it coming out of my eyes, my fingers and my lips. Out of every cell that touched, held or beheld you. It’s weakened my bones, And taken its toll on my lungs. As if an illness has taken over my veins, The love I felt for you is slowly and painfully being replaced With unknown and mysterious emotions, dark thoughts and cavernous hopes. Through all this suffering, the greatest confusion comes from never realizing How much of me was made of love for you.
Note: I wrote this about her a few weeks ago. The theme is similar to a beautifully faced wanderer.
I wish I could call dreams anything but your name
but defining anything other than what it’s made of doesn’t make sense.
Those restful hours come less and less
as those imagined images regress,
To a life like portrtait, of the things my mind avoids during waking hours.
It’s as if the lack of your presence and all it’s powers,
devours the unprotected innocence that is my mind at ease.
I can’t protect it while I float in a state, that for me is closer to death,
than the pale color pallet my eyes decided to perceive,
since we last enjoyed each others warmth.
It’s as if a rift has opened and war has be waged,
between the parts of me that belong to you,
and that parts that for lack of a better name,
wished you could be, nothing more than a dream.