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A Faustian bargain, ambition’s price, Shadows of self, truth hidden in disguise. A soul’s transaction, a hollowed cry, Echoes in fog where illusions lie. A body adrift, a vessel torn, Veiled in silence, in fragments worn. Whispers of void, a mind’s lament, Dissonant voices in the abyss sent. The mirror lies, the faces split, Restless
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My body, a marionette with severed strings. I drift like a ghost through a fog of memories. I walk. This body, not mine. This soul, adrift in time. Haunting echoes hide in hollow halls. I am not here. I am not whole. I am not seen. The night breathes softly against my skin. The mirror’s
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Entre la desconexión y la creación: una travesía hacia el autodescubrimiento Corteza gemida, madera torcida. Desenvuelve entrañas, abre mil heridas. Sacrifico ideas y el tiempo no vuelve. Son miles de notas envueltas en redes. Mi filosofía es abierta, libreta abierta en progreso. El cuerpo me sostiene transmutando todos mis huesos. Sin aire suelo quedarme, no
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By Brian J Gonzalez Martinez Photo by Fons Heijnsbroek, abstract-art on Unsplash What counts as art? Art is not a static definition but an ever-evolving process, just like life. In my poetry, I experiment with language to break boundaries, and I believe art does the same. It connects us to something deeper, something unspoken. Art is
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I want to burn the world, it is still not used to me. My guess is it will never be. I am eternally drawn to flames, consuming fire that never ends. Minute making magic that keeps me sane. One lost love in a tragic scene. The in, in the between. Summer memories of long lost
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Fragments of myself, Forgotten essence of yesterday. Curiosity sealed imagination. Hidden Timeless connection. Elusive faded dreams, Whispers of innocence. Eternal, isolated nature. Dusty passage reaches sanctuary, Time vault flourishes wisdom. Supportive healing changes direction, Preserved twilight, dawn of connection. Talking harmony, renewal of thoughts, Meaningful memories, nostalgia evolved. Frozen present, remnant of growth. Future arrival,
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Souls defined by change meet again in paradise, Flawed, lonely wind sails inside empty, open wounds. Fragile spring, early sacrifice, Bent skies hold shadows. Another sound, an empty vessel, A clueless face, a broken rebel, A wasted voice, a choice of words, Sand like honey in layers of cake. Sweet bite, sour aftertaste, Lips that
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Soundless silence, Effervescent nightmares. Crystal clear illusions of visions of unrest, Tension feeling the unison of love that won’t forget. Simple-minded features of open walls’ regret, Blades of grass dancing with the wind, Slow breath of life that wakes me up within. Chemicals mixed, creating memories, Minutes crafted by meditating centuries. Motion stops moving frequently,
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Poetry in motion is just a potion, A notion of love without emotion, An explosion of words that cause erosion. So many parts of me, they turn to symphonies, Abilities that I never dreamed to have. Half of my memories were lost, Never to be found. Sold heaven for a pound, Now I can go
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In quiet corners where time stands still, A sanctuary whispers through shadows. Dreams once vibrant, now softly glow, A child’s laughter, in twilight’s hold. A bike ride through the campo green, Under starry skies, where hopes convene. Grandparents’ home, a haven pure, Joyful echoes, hearts secure. Family ties that slowly frayed, As loved ones sought
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One Way Life 