tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-35118447786272575862011-11-27T17:06:08.728-08:00Tlalochttp://www.blogger.com/profile/10268123214488278103noreply@blogger.comBlogger71100tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-3511844778627257586.post-62570286262305187822008-02-26T22:27:00.000-08:002008-02-26T10:58:14.940-08:00the noise of the city below is deafening<br />the people scuttling around to make money<br />the puppet leaders answering to no one<br /><br />vampires of the Americana dreamers<br />drinking the blood of youth while they work<br />who sleep through life's' little white lie<br />no shame to this bliss, it just is<br /><br />promises of gold Master Cards<br />to pay for big TV vices<br />drowning youth in mindless watching<br />of clowns in high definition color<br /><br />we see the sweet and glitter on their faces<br />screens of I candy never releasing<br />its death grip on our mind<br /><br />the sun shines on the buildings drenching the flag<br />as it waves in the wind commanding attention<br /><br />we have so much to fight for<br />perceived freedoms, perceived happiness,<br />perceived power and the right to drink, smoke,<br />carry guns to kill one another<br /><br />the flower of doom with sun spots is healing<br />it will one day grow up to swallow us all<br />in icy packed cartons of ground up meat<br />one by one together we'll grind<br />like the empires of history told to us by parents<br />and their parents before<br /><br />virtual earths becoming reality<br />incoming rocks from tanks in war zones<br />hired mercenaries with no allegiance<br />except to the almighty dollar<br /><br />true measure is in us<br />but we are a sleep<br />this time around<br /><br />maybe the next time we'll jump<br />out of our selves and into life<br />or maybe I'm kidding you and myself that,<br />we will ever weak up<br /><br />©2008 Jose F. Sosa<div class="blogger-post-footer"><img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/3511844778627257586-6257028626230518782?l=midnightpoeta.blogspot.com' alt='' /></div>Tlalochttp://www.blogger.com/profile/10268123214488278103noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-3511844778627257586.post-86946437005265299182008-02-20T20:15:00.000-08:002008-02-26T11:01:05.210-08:00they say you are a little shy<br />but you know what you want<br />i walk to my room<br />grab the keys<br /><br />drive around for a while<br />until the end of a song<br />people drinking vodka at the pub<br />in peace the liver drowns<br /><br />it is the only way<br />in balance with<br />chaos and calm<br /><br />their tears white<br />with salt and caffeine<br />wishing they where happy<br />wearing microsoft blue<br /><br />looking for a professional<br />to ease their pain<br />in secret devil deals of greed<br />portraying the sandy dream of life<br /><br />trees ending their relationship with them forcefully<br />dogs barking louder for all to listen<br />to the important message of the game<br /><br />Weight less radio waves reverberating the soul<br />with noiseless dreams of kodachrome color<br /><br />messages of hot of the press bullshit<br />ready for your consumption<br />inventing what we lack<br /><br />fearing deception as fast as destruction<br />in collapsing realities<br />who will displace the beads<br />of confusion in their future<br /><br />©2008 Jose F. Sosa<div class="blogger-post-footer"><img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/3511844778627257586-8694643700526529918?l=midnightpoeta.blogspot.com' alt='' /></div>Tlalochttp://www.blogger.com/profile/10268123214488278103noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-3511844778627257586.post-67596925190059733422008-02-19T18:27:00.000-08:002008-02-19T13:28:50.871-08:00The red chair<br /><br />walking through beads strung over doors<br />my body displacing them<br />smoky filed dim lit space<br />in the center a red chair<br /><br />sitting in that chair is<br />right<br />she dances around me<br />each movement sweater<br /><br />swaying with trees in the dark<br />the rendezvous exhibition<br />leaves floating in the air<br />slowly rocking back and forth<br />downward to the water below<br /><br />we don’t care about it<br />just open the fields of contoured reflection<br />rings and snow capped mountains<br />ignoring social norms<br /><br />sit in this red chair<br />in denomination of man and souls<br />it folds around me engulfing thoughts<br /><br />electrocuting me with life energy<br />see the stormy skies<br />making people cry<br />don’t bend with the wind<br /><br />resist and proliferate with passions<br />you can count on the red chair<br />it will equalize us<br /><br />By Jose F. Sosa ©2008<div class="blogger-post-footer"><img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/3511844778627257586-6759692519005973342?l=midnightpoeta.blogspot.com' alt='' /></div>Tlalochttp://www.blogger.com/profile/10268123214488278103noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-3511844778627257586.post-26589069991570878502008-02-07T18:02:00.000-08:002008-02-20T13:43:03.699-08:00in the middle of nowhere<br />faraway chance of landing<br />on course<br />detours of momentary distractions<br />with lasting thoughts<br />of existence<br />underlining sky lines<br />of hope<br />believing what is not real<br />for comfort<br />waking alone through gates and passages<br />will heavens gates be there<br />will the light that eliminates my voyage<br />keep shining<br />through darkness<br />i travel<br />skimming through life’s<br />outer edges<br />willing to do and suffer<br />for hopes and dreams, delayed<br />keeping space<br />holding on to pieces of<br />fractional lies<br />fictional tears<br />undercover dreamers, trigger<br />happy days of glory<br />traversing the streams, of the body<br />with ease<br />the moonlight comes<br />caressing the ego<br />new life beaming<br />for a day<br />now newborn<br />begin again<br /><br />©2008 Jose F. Sosa<div class="blogger-post-footer"><img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/3511844778627257586-2658906999157087850?l=midnightpoeta.blogspot.com' alt='' /></div>Tlalochttp://www.blogger.com/profile/10268123214488278103noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-3511844778627257586.post-51160996068777926262008-02-06T23:43:00.000-08:002008-02-26T11:04:52.864-08:00ham burger dream<br /><br />under the tree<br />is where I’ll be<br />waiting for apples to drop<br /><br />or maybe just to keep out<br />of the global warming sun<br /><br />the sky changes to<br />color of static television<br />acid raindrops<br />to quench the earth<br /><br />cars polluting the earth<br />stars on a collision course with us<br /><br />bush invading the sun<br />of no answers to problems<br /><br />wearing always<br />fads of latest<br /><br />creating stress<br />trying<br />sometimes<br />drifting now<br /><br />we’re all ammeters<br />yoda pop culture drunks<br />drifting more<br /><br />drinking the red bullshit<br />everyone does it<br /><br />stale pornographic web, boring<br />reality TV, snoring<br />drifting even more<br /><br />the red chair inviting<br />you thinks so<br /><br />the ham burger dream of<br />accelerated riches<br /><br />white consciousness blankets<br />frightening away common sense<br /><br />does anything make sense?<br /><br />of course with a little<br />imagination and love<br />this drug can solve it all<br /><br />p=np<br /><br />©2008 Jose F. Sosa<div class="blogger-post-footer"><img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/3511844778627257586-5116099606877792626?l=midnightpoeta.blogspot.com' alt='' /></div>Tlalochttp://www.blogger.com/profile/10268123214488278103noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-3511844778627257586.post-84582742217208904942008-02-05T18:30:00.000-08:002008-02-26T09:48:35.300-08:00will rain change us<br /><br />roaming the roads in darkness<br />loosing fear to wonder the unknown<br />transmissions of sound deafening<br /><br />under wet skies of television static<br />molted air of cross baring lands<br />wild fortune of greed bubbles<br /><br />with churches and cheese<br />documented sickness in worlds of friction<br />dancing with sleepless interconnected masses<br /><br />using me<br />me using them<br />we shoot them<br />with poisoning politico prowess<br /><br />she’s in love with herself<br />navigating the landmines of capitalism<br />with stupid calm and closed eyes<br /><br />we can not win without ideas of consequence<br />it is raining today<br /><br />will it change us tomorrow<br /><br />©2008 Jose F. Sosa<div class="blogger-post-footer"><img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/3511844778627257586-8458274221720890494?l=midnightpoeta.blogspot.com' alt='' /></div>Tlalochttp://www.blogger.com/profile/10268123214488278103noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-3511844778627257586.post-32082061229914670982008-02-04T18:43:00.000-08:002008-02-04T16:15:52.674-08:00By Jose Favian Sosa<br /><a href="mailto:josefsosa@yahoo.com">josefsosa@yahoo.com</a><br /><a href="http://www.josefsosa.com/">http://www.josefsosa.com/</a><br /><br />I<br />Was dreaming I would find you<br /><br />All<br />Our life awaits passion<br />Our life awaits actuality<br /><br />In<br />Our encounters we find madness<br />Our encounters we exchange energy<br />Our encounters love becomes transparent<br /><br />Love<br />gives us undying and everlasting attention<br />gives us perpetual realization<br />gives us unending awareness<br />gives us unrelenting infatuation<br /><br />Eternity<br />Is not enough to spend with you<br />Is not enough to satisfy my thirst for you<br />Is not enough to embrace you<br />Is not enough to realize<br />obsessions, passions, fascinations<br /><br />Eternity<br /><br />©2008 Jose F. Sosa<div class="blogger-post-footer"><img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/3511844778627257586-3208206122991467098?l=midnightpoeta.blogspot.com' alt='' /></div>Tlalochttp://www.blogger.com/profile/10268123214488278103noreply@blogger.com0