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pilots

P helots cuttlefish

If art is a weapon loaded with future expansion
dream then a silent revolt

in which each seeks to my chest
the mirror and its temple pilots

we
pilots sepia
bent on wind

write on the seas with fire
throw the scepter and throne


without tears of blood painted on the face of marble
melodies or machine gun

only
the great silence of the thunder that rolls

---

Pilots sepia

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the sepia empty

Vacuum

affect her day on the veins of the woods chasing

snow on the chimney smoking

she listens to the leaves nomads roam the hills

you do not know the caravans of wolf that hides in the silence of vespers

and your adult body that saw the birth

bear children now looks the woman with tired eyes and count the decades

of life that we share

but as a pain to make you an infinite amount of time peers

she recorded the journey on a river of ice

chasing the trail of memory and steps

you shall observe the path of fire reflected in water

and quit to follow her like a bonfire now extinct in the vacuum

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Vacuum

preview the new album :

www.myspace.com / santobarbaro

facebook: Santa Barbara