jueves, 22 de febrero de 2007


Sheets of empty canvas, untouched sheets of clay
Were laid spread out before me as her body once did.
All five horizons revolved around her soul
As the earth to the sun
Now the air I tasted and breathed has taken a turn

Ooh, and all I taught her was everything
Ooh, I know she gave me all that she wore
And now my bitter hands chafe beneath the clouds
Of what was everything.
Oh, the pictures have all been washed in black, tattooed everything...

I take a walk outside
I'm surrounded by some kids at play
I can feel their laughter, so why do I sear?
Oh, and twisted thoughts that spin round my headI'm spinning, oh, I'm spinning
How quick the sun can drop away

And now my bitter hands cradle broken glass
Of what was everything?
All the pictures have all been washed in black, tattooed everything...

All the love gone bad turned my world to black
Tattooed all I see, all that I am, all I'll be... yeah

I know someday you'll have a beautiful life,
I know you'll be a sun in somebody else's sky, but why
Why, why can't it be, why can't it be mine

Too doo doo too, too doo doo
Will you be my betterman?
Just don't dream in blue anymore, let's try red this time!!!

5 comentarios:

Brida dijo...

... she dreams in color, she dreams in BLUE... !!!
Puedo llorar?!?!?!?!

Brida dijo...

obvio amiga... hoy y siempre!!!! =)
Te dejo de tarea un post acerca del valor de la amistad!
Uno especial! como aquellos... Esos despues de las filosofadas con haaaaaarto cafe y muchos marlboro red!...

schatz67 dijo...


No sé porque la lectura de tu texto me hixo acordar a un lindo poema de Raymond Carver.Te lo adjunto pues sé que te va a inspirar a pensar en un color diferente al red o el blue.

Un abrazo/Schatz

Raymond Carver - Happiness

So early it's still almost dark out.
I'm near the window with coffee,
and the usual early morning stuff
that passes for thought.

When I see the boy and his friend
walking up the road
to deliver the newspaper.

They wear caps and sweaters,
and one boy has a bag over his shoulder.
They are so happy
they aren't saying anything, these boys.

I think if they could, they would take
each other's arm.
It's early in the morning,
and they are doing this thing together.

They come on, slowly.
The sky is taking on light,
though the moon still hangs pale over the water.

Such beauty that for a minute
death and ambition, even love,
doesn't enter into this.

Happiness. It comes on
unexpectedly. And goes beyond, really,
any early morning talk about it.

serendipity dijo...

Schatz...me encantó el poema y ahora,no sé de que color me siento, pero es uno calmo, muy pacífico con un poquito de chispitas mariposas y algo de melancolía. Como un gris clarito, con salpicado de celeste y amarillo. Saludos!

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