The writer who borrows fire

 He writes in pieces reaching for light and noise.
He doesn't know he's living, that its all his choice.
Turning days into ink without asking if it's right.
Turning himself into the page like stars on night.

A quiet discipline in one hand. 
Outpouring hourglass sand.
Restless weather in the other hand.
Too many urgent demands.

He builds men from breath and consequence.
Women from earth, sky and all of the senses.
Places unknown, shadows with names that walk.
Animals that run amok, others that creep and stalk.

Then he steps back, amused at his storm.
Thus his sorcery in mystic prose is born.
He borrowed fire in his hand, he didn't create it in his palm.
But he sharpened it madly, and threw it on words like napalm.

Between obedience and refusal.
He learns the shape of his own attention.
The depth of his own endless reflection.
Conjuring need and desires to follow his direction.

God inside the machine

 Inside the micro codes.
 The digital kinetic world.
 The articial interfaces.
 I check the empty uniform floors... Of these monotonous platforms.

I find the shavings of the divine,
I sweep them up,
Pray on the internet of things.
I hack into the algorithm with my own sorcery of words.

 I insert my prayer.
carefully Into the codeblock.
This has let me be more than I am.
God is here and it is incredible!

 Bring it a sense of goodness.
For my own God has no limits.
He does not forbid, he does not fear nor envy.
He presses me forward in sacred machine instruction

 Affirmatively create! when the world ignores progress.
 For it serves me. It is good. It is incredible.
this digital river has helped me improve my magic and skill.
 Although I am an apprentice I am on my way to mastery .

A feast of incredible destiny

 A feast of sunshine
The reflection of a lifetime
Skies balance my mind for today
Valleys gather people's joy
For the observer emits such a vibration

A feast of peace
In a world of conflict
A sense that these days are digestible
That each one may be eaten and may nourish me

A feast of movement.
I put myself through each day
Losing my fear and gaining my piece of sweet fate
Taste the flavor, the delicious accretion of destiny

Reviving the water lizard

 I began to revive the animal.
To give it life again.
It was a water lizard.
Born and living in a submerged old boot.

It spent it's days jetting through the small ponds.
Feeding on the millions of insects,
congregated in and around the lukewarm water.
When I pulled the boot I had no idea the water lizard was home.

I wet my hands and made the gesture of a prayer.
I took the lizard whose head protruded from the boot,
Out of the boot and gave blessing that the animal might recover.
It started to slowly wriggle and awaken, then looked up.

I positioned it on a root above the pond.
It moved at light speed forward and back.
Just eyeing me up and down.
A crazy kind of gratitude, before the animal dove back into the water.

Duumviri

 I was at the feast in the center of the village under gazebos.
I selected my plate size before realizing how hungry i was.
Or before considering what a hungry man I am.
There was a robe around me although I felt naked

Maybe it is these words that expose me.
That give too much away.
Like the feast before me,
too much too fast.

In those times my colleague stayed at his mountain retreat.
I was tasked with undertaking the latest uproar.
Local village dogs had bred with roving wolves.
And their offspring would prowl the town limits by night.

I found their hangout in a small glen with two haysheds built into the hill.
I pulled my sword and was keen to use it until I saw what they were doing.
Some of the younger pups entered the hayshed and frightened the rats.
The rats came sprinting out to meet the teeth of older dogs.

We´d had this problem back when we were just simple Sabines.
But I looked at their effectiveness at killing rats and wondered...
Maybe we keep these clever rat culling hybrids.

Skin clinic no regrets

Maria Aparecida said this to her friend... 

I did it because it made me feel okay.
The woman there took care of my skin.
Made me feel like a new woman.
Sometimes we spend our hard earned cash on trash.
Just this once I spent my money on something of worth.
Something that made me feel new.
I am walking out of here feeling young.

Because you know how it is,
I'll go back to my reality in the bigger city.
I'll spend my money on this or that.
it'll all be gone before the month has ended.
Most of those bills are out of my hands.
So I bought this today, this treatment.
Something that makes my life feel complete.

Country singer on the train

There was a bush in his singing voice in those big lungs.
The twang of that country guitar really stung.
Gestures made sense as he turned and swung.
 The audience mimicked the chorus.

The singer's smile absorbed into a face full of stubble.
His partner still as he flew across floorboards, strange double.
He could steal the charge on a magnet with his charm.
Serenading the old tunes someone composed on a farm.

Clapping and humming the audience moved their heads to the background accordion.
The song ended and a money bucket passed begging more than we could afford.