Wednesday, May 21, 2008

While I Was Out

I had a bad dream last night and you were in it 
you had disappeared without a trace
it felt so real I had no choice but to confirm it
I desperately flung my arms across the bed
but in your place I felt a folded sheet of  paper.

I read the note you wrote me, barely breathing
tears plopped like bombs from a B52, ink bled all over   
a big blue hole inside my chest, the size of Texas 
in the spot where my heart used to own real estate

I tightly closed my eyes to squeeze out the excess salty water
and drifted slowly into some sort of drunken stupor
when I came to I saw you standing near me
with a grin on your face and on your lips a warning:

"Next time you swing at me in your sleep, I'll hurt you"

Copyright © 2001/2008 Alberto Ruiz. All rights reserved

Wednesday, May 7, 2008

The Slacker Method

A sudden single notion ignites a series of reflections
the thought acts like a magnet attracting connections and personal introspection
there is no reason to this behavior nor there is rhyme
if I could explain it to myself, I might, but I can't, which is fine.
Better yet, I would rather not know the logic to it (if there's one)
there is no sense in attempting to understand, this is not divine nor sublime
However, within the apparent haphazardness and inconsistency of action
there lies a clear objective, a straight line, a path, a hidden pattern,
a vision which often doesn't reveal itself until after the consummation
or seconds before but by then it's too late to put together a well thought out reaction.

The whole creative process takes into account all imagined, perceived and known variables
unlike a practical application with a foreseeable result,
the unknown and invisible factors play key roles in the unpredictable outcome
in fact, we must count on their inevitable appearance at random intervals
to inflict mayhem and guide the original thought to its natural conclusion
some involuntary self-sabotage is necessary, of course
but we can't predict to what extent it helps or measure its destructive force
add to all that a carefully orchestrated placement of obstacles, procrastination and detours
to coerce the mind into fabricating sound and viable solutions at a moment's notice
and to will the raw idea into material existence by force of chance, chaos and disorder.

In other words: we wing it.

Copyright © 2001/2008 Alberto Ruiz. All rights reserved

Sunday, May 4, 2008


I am not the same man I was a week ago
I am not even sure what that means
which means I know but can't put it into words
I'm as confused as ever but things are clearer
can't put my finger on it, I just know it
I know it sounds vague, foggy and hollow
but there's no other way I can explain it
my mind is wide open and overflowing
with nothingness, if there is such a thing
which is not the same as emptiness, I feel
as if I'm moving forward, floating or flying
diving in slo-mo while standing still
The many voices in my head are silent now
they are no longer asking me questions
I can only answer in my dreams.
I have never felt so at ease, at peace
This calm I am not accustomed to but it suits me
it doesn't scare me but it intrigues me
it doesn't consume me but it compels me
Don't know what it is but I think it knows me
it will swallow me whole if I'm not careful
or it already has and I don't know it.

Copyright © 2001/2008 Alberto Ruiz. All rights reserved