Moments

The sweetest moment, it comes and it goes

The pulsating heartbreak, it comes and it goes

The mind relives the gentlest of starlit nights, the fury of a winter’s storm

It all just comes and goes

Like liquid gold held in hands full of holes.

– A. Garcia

Inside

Knock, knock, tapping gently on the dome, what could it be, is it really just meat and bone?

Is a hand stuck inside conjuring up a storm? Tearing down walls and leaving nothing but stones.

Even I has barely had a glimpse, I wonder what’s hidden in those depths.

Light spills from the cracks, circling around like rays behind a solar eclipse

One day she came, she saw, gasped out loud and said, “All I see is red!”

What could it be if it’s all red?

Is it the dead?

What?

What’s inside my head?

– A. Garcia

Be

I’ve been overcomplicating life; now I try, when the first light sneaks through my curtains and hits my eyes, even in the most turbulent of times, to ask myself, “who do you want to be in life?”, and as my feet set on the cold floor to start the day’s journey, I whisper a reply, “go be that person.”

- A. Garcia

Erratic Dream State

It’s so peaceful now, so mellow, tranquil and zen. How things can go when you are not waiting for life to go out with a bang. There was a dream, I ran behind you, your stubborn head boarded the tram, my mind swirled , back and forth, back and forth, like a deranged boomerang.

I still write your name until the ink runs dry in my pen, coloring your hair with pixels on my screen. Life never felt quite as zen, to this very day I swear, it must've been a dream.

There goes the dream again, thought I turned the page, running behind your stubborn head boarding the tram, the one that comes by at ten, the one that is forest green, "do or die" mocking on its side, red letters hinting of rage.

My legs were cast iron, every step slowed me down, every step sunk into the cement, candle sticks stuck in a cake, the cracks split forward, opening the earth like a icy fissure spreading across a lake.

Your mischievous smile, dared me to move faster; eyes blank though, because love was dead, run over by the ugly tram, the one with letters on its side painted red.

Blood spilling all over the street, onto the sidewalk, where a passerby dared to ask, 'how dare you disturb my zen'.

Government officials contained the mess and no-one was wiser to what passed through that head, and just like that, the ink ran dry in my pen.

– A. Garcia

Haunted

Sometimes a thought gets stuck in my head, buzzing around like an angry swarm of bees that just lost their queen.

When the horde finally resides, the dust settles on the brain matter, the motes covering up every speck of space that looks free.

Same as that haunted house in my old neighborhood, the one everyone walked by and gave a frightened stare. The same one, with friends mocking, that I never step foot in, I would not dare.

– A. Garcia

Patience

Patience, the subconscious whispers in my ear, the break of dawn barreling through every crack in the blinds; wide awake for another rise of the sun, wondering when my time will come.

Patience, the tide is wide and far, yet all tides return. ‘What ifs’ tangled in your mind, held hostage over cliffs.

The whisper is incessant; you want to grasp the stars in all their glory, and you can barely grasp your heart.

– A. Garcia

Better

How can I? How can I love you better?

All of it, it's all so magnificent, so earthly, so all around and encapsulating. So hard to understand.

I want to wrap my arms around your soul, even just a gentle grasp, a garden-gnome sized squeeze, to figure out your smile & the elixir-like wave of your coal-black hair.

Why can't I figure it out? How hard can it be? To woo you and have your eyes bless mine with a glance I cannot pantomime; but that shine no longer warms this way, they don’t warm the cold with heavenly grace.

And I know, it ain’t that hard to understand. You’re somewhere else, beyond that place where dreams meet. You might as well never have been born, just another fantasy, another character, in another of countless stories that have  passed me by.

Another wayward stray. So I let you fly, out of my sight, over the horizon straight into space, far beyond range, until your light fades away.

– A. Garcia

Lovers

How many times do I have to try?

The heart, it can’t tell time

How many dreams have to die?

The soul, wretched from the slime

How many times do I have to cry?

That’s all I can sing

It’s another wicked song

Coming from somewhere up above

All out on the open

So, what do you say?

Take my hand

Lets do it as it’s meant to be

Like lovers do

Eternal like space.

– A. Garcia

Paradox

A paradox:

The mind can get stuck in a never-ending loop, it obsessively, compulsively, overthinks. It tortures consciousness and leaves no room for mistakes.

Yet it’s gasoline on a raging fire. The constant thumping inspires desire, creativity flows from the cracks. It breaks down walls, little by little pressure building up. Ideas rage like a rampant truck tire, loose on a busy city street, smashing windows, crushing fences, and broken noses on bewildered faces, all wondering what happened.

Chaos is left behind in its path,

all for the love of art.

–  A. Garcia

Hollow

Don’t know what happened

One day we were born

now we’re all tied up in steel knots

and concrete forms.

The new gods have decreed it

we are to be forlorn

Do the stars not align anymore?

What will one day be told?

Freedom was our only shout

So scream it out now

because they’ve burnt the books

seared the truth

All that’s left is doubt.

The black screen swallows us whole

the hive mind reaching out

Whats left of your humanity

in the name of progress

hollows out your core.

Mesmerized by distractions

decrepit fingers pointing out

oversized billboards

the shiny lights

and glamorous dresses

When we turned back

all that was left were ashes.

Don’t know what happened

Now we are numbers in a machine

it consumed the mind

and spit out shadows

What’s left is a mock of energetic souls

Trapped in a bag of bones.

– A. Garcia

Old Notes

I was reading through some old notes and writings on my computer, much of it incomplete, written long ago, forgotten thoughts splayed out on a screen.

Some of the musings are short and to the point, many of them with no point at all, simple ramblings of a wandering mind.

Flipping through the titles, wondering where my heart was during each space, one in particular catches my attention, it was just one word.

It called to me, like a fading voice in a deep well, like an old lover from a forgotten past.

The title, "Future"; with much anticipation I opened the folder and searched within for my own inspiration, from a day I could not remember.

It was empty.

– A. Garcia

Fear

It’s always the fear 

that gets you

To pull off those heavy 

blankets 

And take reality for what 

it’s worth 

To cash in time to face what 

is not under your control


Every morning 

The story goes

We reach into the closet

Pull out a costume for the day

Pull it tight against our soul 

Wrap it nice, sealed shut 

 All of this 

To go out there            

And be able to face the world. 


– A. Garcia 

Paper Airplane

I’ve assembled my sharpest words

composing them into a letter 

the words are cutting and strong

they bite and savor what’s left

they burn through it all

like acid in a plastic bag


I’ve steel-plated the paper

folded it up nicely

straight lines

perfectly lined up edges

It’s a steel-plated paper airplane 

ready to cut through the air

ready to cut through with no scare

slicing through the sky

blinding your eyes with its glare


It’s off into the ether 

sailing on its thin metal body

racing to catch all lost time

dashing through cotton-white clouds

it will surely rip the distance apart 

Its pointy edge finding you amongst shadows

Hot steel-paper landing on your chest

its words spilling over 

melting the skin 

like hot iron touching ice

like a shark fin cutting through water

its words shaking you to the core 

Like a dagger through your heart. 


– A. Garcia