JulioBiason.Net

I was the worst of the days,
I thought it was my last.
But it wasn’t.

But I act as it was.
And, even if I didn’t found happiness,
I found peace at heart.

The walls are breaking,
There is nothing I can do,
There is nothing I want to do.

I don’t want to be the wall builder again.
All I want
Is be a man
Under the sun.

A life of mistakes
A mind without ideas
A soul without hope

A pillow wet with tears
A room without colors
A house without light

An empty heart

Everytime I saw the sun
It burned me
Everytime I saw the sun
I got blind

So I build these walls
So it wouldn’t hurt me anymore
Thicker, taller walls over the years
A dark, cold place where I could hide

But I was careless
And let one small crack
And when the sun appeared again
It didn’t burned me
It didn’t blinded me
But nobody stops the sun
And it left me wanting more

Years and years building walls
And I never learned how to climb
Now I want the sun
And don’t know how to get out of here

Just now I realize
That cold and dark is not what I want
I want the sun to warm me inside
And the light to see the world

I’m a prisoner of my own reckless
Because I got burned before
Because I got blinded before
I thought it would always be that way
And in that small crack
I could see that I was wrong
But now it is too late
And I should die in cold and darkness

Some long time ago, I wrote an Ode to the air-conditioner. Now someone found an Ode to a Spell Checker:

Eye halve a spelling checker
It came with my pea sea
It plainly marks four my revue
Miss steaks eye kin knot sea.

Eye striks a key and type a word
And weight four it two say
Weather eye am wrong oar write
It shows me a strait a weigh.

As soon as a mist ache is maid
It nose bee fore two long
And eye can put the error rite
Its rare lea ever wrong.

Eye have run this poem threw it
I am shore your pleased two no
Its letter perfect awl the weigh
My checker tolled me sew.

This one I found in Planet Ubuntu: A poem by Leo Buscaglia

To laugh is to risk appearing the fool.
To weep is to risk appearing sentimental.
To reach out for another is to risk involvement.
To expose feelings is to risk exposing your true self.
To place your ideas, your dreams, before a crowd is to risk their loss.
To love is to risk not being loved in return.
To live is to risk dying.
To hope is to risk failure.

But risks must be taken.
Because the greatest hazard in life is to risk nothing.
If you risk nothing and do nothing, you dull your spirit.
You may avoid suffering and sorrow, but you cannot learn, feel, change, grow, love, and live.
Chained by your attitude, you are a slave.
You have forfeited your freedom.
Only if you risk are you free.

I wake up in the morning
Still dark
I look at the clock
It’s 3 a.m.

My mouth is so dry
I recall the words of a wise man
“They could re-film ‘Lawrence of Arabia’ in my mouth”

I reach for the glass in my desk
In the hopes it still have something
Some people look at a glass and think
“This glass is half-empty”
Some people look at a glass and think
“This glass is half-full”
I look at my glass and think
“This glass is completely empty”

Better move to the kitchen
And get some refreshments

Getting out of the bedroom is hard
There is so much humidity in the air
It looks like it doesn’t want you to move
And you can cut it with a knife

I get to the kitchen
Passing through the living room
The only sound around is the drops of air-conditioners
Hitting other air-conditioners

“Someone must want me dead”
I think to myself
I move to the window
There is no air-conditioner below mine
My soul is saved by now

In the other building
There is a symphony of air-conditioners
And drops
Somewhere there is the sound of a window
Being hit by a light rain
I look down, in the parking lot
Everything looks dry
I look to the building
The sound still there
I look at the streets
Everything looks dry
I look to the building
“It must be the drops”

I walk back to my bedroom
Only to find a place
Where it is easy to walk again
And it is even better to breath
It is the land of the free
Thanks to the air-conditioner

“What a marvelous thing is the air-conditioner”
I think again to myself
“Someone must write a master-piece about them
But not me, not right now
I’m going to sleep again”

Then the words start flying in my mind
“Damn you air-conditioner
I think you are controlling me
But since you are so nice
Here is an ode to you”