A little chat

My heart woke me in pain last night,

My mind was awake having coffee and writing in dreams, how can I help? come here, sit! I´m listening.

Heart said: why?

You´ll never know, don´t ask stupid questions, did it hurt?

Yeap, it did. It wasn´t fair ...you know, I don´t wanna...

Did he do it on purpose? No, I´m sure he didn´t.

Then, sing and come here, let´s write together, Solitude will come in a while ...ah you silly! don´t be afraid, we will not leave you alone in darkness, you have us, we´ll always protect you.

The end.
~ ~ ~ ~ ~
Posted: Jan 2018
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From childhood's hour I have not been
As others were; I have not seen
As others saw; I could not bring
My passions from a common spring.
From the same source I have not taken
My sorrow; I could not awaken
My heart to joy at the same tone;
And all I loved, I loved alone.
Then- in my childhood, in the dawn
Of a most stormy life- was drawn
From every depth of good and ill
The mystery which binds me still:
From the torrent, or the fountain,
From the red cliff of the mountain,
From the sun that round me rolled
In its autumn tint of gold,
From the lightning in the sky
As it passed me flying by,
From the thunder and the storm,
And the cloud that took the form
(When the rest of Heaven was blue)
Of a demon in my view.
~ ~ ~ ~ ~
Posted: Jan 2018
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Tactics and Strategy

My tactic is to look at you

To learn how you are

Love you as you are

My tactic is to talk to you

And listen to you

And construct with words

An indestructible bridge

My tactic is to stay in your memory,

I don't know how

Nor with what pretext

But stay within you

My tactic is to be honest

And know you are too

And that we don't sell each other illusions

So that between us there is no curtain or abyss

My strategy instead is

Deeper and simpler.

My strategy is that some day

I don't know how, nor with what pretext

That finally you need me.
~ ~ ~ ~ ~
Posted: Jan 2018
About this poem:
".....on no account or whatsoever I will forgive a woman who can not fly" from the film: The Dark Side of the Heart, 1992
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A Sapiosexual Woman

She could not abide a stupid man.
If you could not feed her curious mind
then you would never satisfy her in any manner.
If you looked like a Greek god but were basically a dolt,
she might have a motherly affection to you,
but you never would truly able to pull at her lust.
No, it was not a man's physical beauty
but his brains that turned her on.
If, when she was with you,
her mind could stretch deep into a galaxy
or swim in an ocean of philosophy
then you had what it took to open her up.
And when she did,
open up,
well f*ck!
It was like a 3D Georgia O'Keeffe painting.
You were lost in folds, creases, valleys, and fascination.
And then that's it,
you were ruined to all other women.
You would love her until the end of time.
~ ~ ~ ~ ~
Posted: Dec 2017
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From my mentor

“I have absolutely no pleasure in the stimulants in which I sometimes so madly indulge. It has not been in the pursuit of pleasure that I have periled life and reputation and reason. It has been the desperate attempt to escape from torturing memories, from a sense of insupportable loneliness and a dread of some strange impending doom.”
~ ~ ~ ~ ~
Posted: Dec 2017
About this poem:
But, it is what it is gotta go
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Follow The Yellow Brick Road

I trot along the yellow brick road
In search for something I need,
Passing the Lion, Tin Man, and the Scarecrow,
But not interest in any of these three.

I'm off to seek something bigger,
Something only the wizard can award.
It is not to take me to my empty home.
Something greater I have in store.

I have no need for bright red shoes
Or a dog named Toto; I already have three.
Or to be zapped back to my home on the hills,
Or a fairy, a witch, or a monkey.

A crystal ball would be nice to have,
But friends, I really have plenty.
I'm eager to pass through Munchkin Land
To grab a few lollipops for the journey.

I've come to ask the wizard
For something I can't ever do,
For something I prayed so long for;
Even my God hasn't pulled through.

I've seen this man grant many wishes.
When I was a young little girl
I thought it couldn't hurt none,
So I'm here to give it a whirl.

I am asking the wizard for a baby,
For I never could conceive.
Though I try so hard so many times,
I want this more than the air I breathe.

And once he grants me my wish
And places a seed inside my womb,
I will request that he fly me back
To a home with a nursery room

Where I can rock my baby in a chair
And sing lullabies to it all night long
And envision our life together
Inside our souvenir crystal ball

My home won't lack from silence.
My heart won't lack empty space.
My dreams will have come true.
I will be kissing my baby's face
~ ~ ~ ~ ~
Posted: Dec 2017
About this poem:
Those things some get for granted. Motherhood.
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From Antoine de Saint-Exupéry, Manon, Ballerina

“Of course I’ll hurt you. Of course you’ll hurt me. Of course we will hurt each other. But this is the very condition of existence. To become spring, means accepting the risk of winter. To become presence, means accepting the risk of absence.”
~ ~ ~ ~ ~
Posted: Dec 2017
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You are not your age,
Nor the size of clothes you wear,
You are not a weight,
Or the colour of your hair.
You are not your name,
Or the dimples in your cheeks,
You are all the books you read,
And all the words you speak,
You are your croaky morning voice,
And the smiles you try to hide,
You’re the sweetness in your laughter,
And every tear you’ve cried,
You’re the songs you sing so loudly,
When you know you’re all alone,
You’re the places that you’ve been to,
And the one that you call home,
You’re the things that you believe in,
And the people that you love,
You’re the photos in your bedroom,
And the future you dream of,
You’re made of so much beauty,
But it seems that you forgot,
When you decided that you were defined,
By all the things you’re not.
~ ~ ~ ~ ~
Posted: Dec 2017
About this poem:
From my notes to self
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From the book: In the Name of the Rose / Umberto Eco

Red rose growing in the meadow,
you vaunt yourself bravely
bathed in crimson and carmine:
a rich and fragrant show.
But no: Being fair,
You will be unhappy soon
~ ~ ~ ~ ~
Posted: Nov 2017
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My shy king

I´ve seen so many faces
Blank ones with the snout of the pig
Friendly faces looking for sympathy
at the random pains to the world.

Have seen my own face in the mirror so many times,
my reflection in the eyes of lions, yeah, like they'd want your leftovers ...

They are burning behind you, and facing ahead of you the crowd of the enemies of the rock that holds your back, impersonal, without a face to hate them, but your smiley eyes keep loving the speedo: Freedom!!!!

We played our best cards and nobody lost the game.
On the contrary, we both won.

I'm his naughty Queen, he's my shy King. Royalty we define, no drama, respecting lifting one another.
Never letting anyone come in between us ...we are friends.

My timid King will have chocolate today sitting in his steel throne, it´s his Birthday.

,,,,and I love you Mr. B.
~ ~ ~ ~ ~
Posted: Nov 2017
About this poem:
Almost a year :) Patience? lol!
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This is a list of Cachuchi's Poems. Click here for Cachuchi's Poem List

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