I`M HERE …ALWAYS

The sunset slowly approaches                                                                                                                                                                                   Together, a light crispy dry wind                                                                                                                                                                                            Is blowing inquisitive  aromas  from the north                                                                                                                                                     Eagerly rushes through the clear blue sky                                                                                                                                                                                            As it advances, stronger emphatic gushes                                                                                                                                                                  Are destined to her lonely port

Going south in its direction                                                                                                                                                                                                 Dancing movements of perfection                                                                                                                                                                                    Embracing eternity of affection                                                                                                                                                                                                     Till the final blow… calm and slow                                                                                                                                                                                                   Soon at rest….a whisper

And there she is…alone, my sweet dear                                                                                                                                                                         Sitting on the end of the old pier                                                                                                                                                                                                     Her glorious, kind eyes wide open                                                                                                                                                                                              Yet, misty is the horizon                                                                                                                                                                                                           By the fullness of a longing tear

Floating  harmony, gentle waviness                                                                                                                                                                                            Created… it seems from afar                                                                                                                                                                                                             She does not know…but I`m here                                                                                                                                                                                    In sorrow, holding my Cuban cigar

The inner crying is deeply mutual                                                                                                                                                                                                       And so the inquisitive loving sensation                                                                                                                                                                                             Yes I am right here, but she cannot see me                                                                                                                                                                      A sense…systematic routine…a ritual

The wind that constantly blows                                                                                                                                                                                         Yet, she quiet stills… as her thoughts flows                                                                                                                                                                         Those of intense love, joy and peace                                                                                                                                                                                     The fruits of my direction… the comforter                                                                                                                                                                        A present gentleness that guides her  and supporter

Her eyes blinked…as the air is feeling warmer                                                                                                                                                                         I`m just leaving my promised kiss                                                                                                                                                                              Simultaneously, tears dropped down her face                                                                                                                                                          Brushed  away by an unexpected  twirl of wind                                                                                                                                                         That came from nowhere but the open wide space                                                                                                                                                                    She feels my loving presence and that I still miss

JOE SOARES

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For my eyes only

I see the rain falling in the distance
I feel the wind on my crying face
and sunflowers dancing on empty space

I see yellow landscape turning gray
I feel water cooling my thoughts
and hoping love of mine can stay

I see clowds moving in the sky
I feel my emotions ascending
and my solitude pretending

I see little and the world near seems
I feel steps on my heart streams
and alone I stand for life

I see the changing weather
I feel on my longing tears
and the emptiness all this years

I see the sunlight coming towards
I feel intense warmth on my soul
and listening to my lost words

I see the friendly horizon smiling
I feel my coming path is drying
and my distante empty space
Joe Soares
04-05-10

 

 

The jogging path.

The near by forest when going jogging (sometimes)

  

 

BEING

 

 

Where is peace there will unrest be together in your life, not your choice, desire of wish to be.  It just is.  Is reason fair because is me yet not to be? What is, that is my living search for harmony?  The quest and endeavour, lying beneath my feet, my shaking fingers rolling up a smoke for my only pleasure, my conclusion that life is a breath of dreaming illusions?

 

There the clouds are a presence mystifying my inner thinking, an assembly of distortion that what is me.  Me, flying on those waves, pretending something that I am not but through the flowing of my blood I am what is me, it seems.  It comes, moves in and out, heart beating continuously, surviving the unknowing existence of my human singularity.

 

Existing, I am the thinking within my solitude alone I am living, searching away for the paradisiacal calm, the truth behind the intangible light.  The particle losing its spark amongst waves of dissipating smoke, yet I am here and everywhere.  The place that is of my own comprehension, identifying the levels of my being somewhere without a home or address.

 

The mystery unfolding life challenges and momentary learning’s on my step.  The way incognito travelling soon at rest, before the sun rises in a lesser mist.  Daylight approaching my curtain shadows belonging to my lonely soul going, becoming distant, moving and dispersing as my burning cigarette.  Flame my dimensional world of two parts, together as one, only one.

 

    

A LOST ROSE

The wind blows hidden memories, bittersweet

Raises daily pain and erases the scent of petals

Those of a rose loved with passion

Whose petals floating on cold water stream, dispersing
And the piercing shaped stones reminds me of her heart

As the voyage continues I feel emotions draining out of me

The thorns of a time rose where single –out alone on its stem

And like a sword were cutting me in pieces

I can visage my own blood slowly descend on the same stream

But yet rapidly gathering momentum

And catch up with the broken rose

In this moment my mind rises up, drawing me closer and closer
Stirred it seems by the depth of passion

And petal by petal I bunch up my dream
putting together all that I have lost

To captivate her heart once again

And the freshness aromas of a long gone flower

Joe Soares

THE SECRET OF THE SILENCE

My near adventure was born in the mist of nothing

I was not clear that life had angels flying close by

Between the unknown I was crying in silence

I wanted the key throw away, far from my goodbye

Deep in my soul, all hidden had to stay for a thousand years

Travels made of existence and cascade of lonely tears

Rivers of living, rocks upon rocks and the crossing forest

The passage of pain, a lesson of the rain and yet nothing

So much to take amongst empty,  nothingness’  space

Rules made of no one`s battles, by the by divine grace

And they flew for me and you, the forgotten angels

The white feathered birds returning the key of life.

THE SECRET OF THE SILENCE

My near adventure was born in the mist of nothing

I was not clear that life had angels flying close by

Between the unknown I was crying in silence

I wanted the key throw away, far from my goodbye

Deep in my soul, all hidden had to stay for a thousand years

Travels made of existence and cascade of lonely tears

Rivers of living, rocks upon rocks and the crossing forest

The passage of pain, a lesson of the rain and yet nothing

So much to take amongst empty,  nothingness’  space

Rules made of no one`s battles, by the by divine grace

And they flew for me and you, the forgotten angels

The white feathered birds returning the key of life.