Aprils come and Aprils go

(Sunsets by Francisco Bravo Cabrera, All Rights Reserved)

I have challenged ocean waves,

and the currents of the seas,

without steering,

without sails,

without a captain.

Diving deep below the ground,

like a fish upon the sand,

it’s not how, it’s when I can,

through a scream that knows no sound,

like the wind it turns around

and comes my way…

I have challenged the north wind,

I have sailed around the cape,

is it good hope? Is it bad?

It does not matter.

Someone stole my springtime hope,

that I kept deep in my heart,

Aprils come and Aprils go,

and time has taken us far apart,

and the last train will depart within the hour,

And I am so far from the station,

so I’ll stay in shallow water,

far from the depths of your bays,

I know I can challenge high tide

but I don’t know if today,

I will chance upon another

sunlit morning,

so I’ll stay.

C.2020, Francisco Bravo Cabrera, 27 JAN 2020, Valencia, Spain

INSTAGRAM: @Francisco_Bravo_Cabrera

JaZzArt en Valencia: http://www.ArtPal.com/rfbravo1155

Piano Jazz with my group AJA: http://www.cdbaby.com/cd/aja

THANKS!

The Sun Through the Window…

You look for the window that faces the east,

the rising sun, the savage beast,

for the warmth that you’re looking for,

the warmth that you need

to make it another day to work and to feed…

You feed your indifferent, full of nothingness mind,

on the scraps that the others do hope you may find

among the rubbish and refuse and plastics you search

deep in the alley behind the blind church

whose eyes never see you,

whose ears aren’t tuned to the music you make

as you walk without shoes

through the putrid decay of the old city sidewalks

filled with scraps of the life that was never allowed

to find life and has died…

But in this chamber, where you now pass your days,

you feel the cold shiver and you seek for the rays

of the sun that eventually climbs in the sky,

above the old brownstone,

and you slowly and painfully, take step after step,

arthritic bones cannot ever keep pace,

till you reach that old window, whose glass lets it in

the warmth of the sun, so the morning begins

without a thought, without tea,

how alone can you be

when you’re not sure of anything,

not even your name,

yet you live for you breathe

every minute the same

as you waste away looking for the sun

that you think you will feel through the window

of a house that was boarded up so long ago…

C.2020, Francisco Bravo Cabrera, 10 JAN 2020, Valencia, Spain

INSTAGRAM: @Francisco_Bravo_Cabrera

Jazz Art en Valencia: http://www.ArtPal.com/rfbravo1155

Piano Jazz by AJA: http://www.cdbaby.com/cd/aja

THANKS!

We Just Can’t Resist…

Together we will cross through the closed and locked

frozen doors of time,

repeating the words we learned from old fashioned movies,

humming the tunes whose words we can’t recall,

we’ll go through time because we’ve done it all…

Together we will cross through the mirrors that you keep

in your bedroom down the hall,

murmuring a prayer that we learned from the parish priest,

we’ll go through the glass like if it didn’t exist,

because we’re so anxious to know,

we’re so anxious to see,

we’re so anxious to understand

that we just can’t resist…

C.2020, Francisco Bravo Cabrera, 05 JAN 2020, Valencia, Spain

INSTAGRAM: @Francisco_Bravo_Cabrera

JazzArt en Valencia: http://www.ArtPal.com/rfbravo1155

Piano Jazz by AJA: http://www.cdbaby.com/cd/aja

THANKS!

Much Better to Sleep

I stood on sidewalk, cracked and dirty,

old and stained with the lives of many,

in a land of nothingness and without,

in the presence of doubt,

I tipped my hat to destiny

and took the first step out.

Out of the light of the streetlamp yellow

into the depths of the night,

filling the cracks of the street with umbrellas

that don’t stop the rain from coming down.

From coming down on your eyes,

after all, they see nothing…

From coming down on your head,

you don’t need that to think.

Then came down on your shoulders,

that have carried the boulders of years

and down on your face

that you’ve never seen.

Mirrors are for those whose reflection

is tied to the light of the ever full moon,

and for those that have learned the hard lesson

that has taught them that night comes too soon.

And I walked down the street

where the echoes of laughter

retreat as the shadows come strolling on through,

and when the light, of the next streetlamp yellow,

bathed me with her mellow illusion,

I paused and I thought it’s much better to sleep…

C.2020, Francisco Bravo Cabrera, 04 JAN 2020, Valencia, Spain

INSTAGRAM: @Francisco_Bravo_Cabrera

JazzArt en Valencia: http://www.ArtPal.com/rfbravo1155

Piano Jazz by AJA: http://www.cdbaby.com/cd/aja

THANKS!

Memories and Recollections

I recall the days of my infancy as being days warm with the love of so many…

A house with a garden, a beach and a penny for my thoughts

they would offer me as I sat on the hill and watched the evening

become as still

as an image…

I recall the days of my youth…

Yes, ever changing, ever growing,

always pleasant,

never knowing,

living, like many, in the Kingdom of Confusion,

a fast car, a school uniform

of grey pants, white shirt and a blue, blue, blue, blue tie…

and a battle dress of green

and a heart that arrived to far off places

with the energy and stamina of Roman chariot races

I stumbled through my destiny…

I don’t live to remember anymore,

I live to travel, shore to shore,

desert to desert,

valley to mountain

and then soak my feet in a medieval fountain…

Recalling and memories are symbols and doubts

for we never remember what we were about,

just a snapshot,

a second in time,

in the end, that is all that is mine…

C.2020, Francisco Bravo Cabrera, 01 JAN 2020, Valencia, Spain

INSTAGRAM: @Francisco_Bravo_Cabrera

Jazz Art en Valencia: http://www.ArtPal.com/rfbravo1155

Jazz by AJA (Piano Jazz): http://www.cdbaby.com/cd/aja

THANKS!

I Wanted to Write…

I wanted to see if it was possible to write,

to think of or conceive,

of something this dark night.

Something that would bring light to the Earth we inhabit,

that would shine above us while we’re living so happy,

That would lighten our extraordinary ways of being

and strengthen our life with believing

on mysteries, magic, dreams and things wild,

the things we were taught when just a small child…

I wanted to write,

I wanted to fly,

but the shoes of a clown are not meant to fly high…

So I looked in my pockets, my closet, my chest

and searched for the thing that I knew I loved best.

But I found only coins, only clothes and old dust,

the things that we’ve done are the things that we must…

There’s no sense in arguing on and on with yourself,

when the sun and the moon collect dust on the shelf

and the ocean is cloudy with gin and with tonic

and your feet are now moving in speeds supersonic,

and I wanted to write the best poem I could,

but all I could do was to write what I should…

C.2019, Francisco Bravo Cabrera, 27 DEC 2019, Valencia, Spain.

Esos Días de Juventud…

Los días que ya no quiero recordar,

aparecen en mis sueños,

si,

en ese espacio que no puedo controlar

rejuvenecen

y vuelven a vivir

y hasta a veces reir…

Vuelvo a matar,

sin poder atar el sufrimiento,

y volviendo a vivir esos momentos,

juro que no dormiré jamas…

La guerra vive en mí

y yo la oculto entre misterios,

entre los amores que olvido y otros desterrados recuerdos,

pero ella surge,

como la espuma

que se desborda y mancha el vaso de cerveza,

asi le hacen los sueños a mi cabeza,

y me obligan otra vez

a recordar…

Life is Like a Hurricane…

(The Atlantic Ocean on the coast of Miami during Hurricane Frances, 2004…photo by FBC, All Rights Reserved)

We think we’re going one way

but our path is not directed by the angle of our sails,

our path can vary wildly…

The power you can’t see decides your destiny,

and chance plays an important part

in what you do

or where your life may be

as there are currents guiding you and me.

They’re winds that high up in the sky do blow,

and can send us where we least expect,

so I respect

the random flow,

for they affect things down below

where we exist…

So, where you go and from where you came,

don’t forget it’s all the same,

you think you’re heading straight for

home

but you may be wrong,

because, and this may really be a shame,

life is like a hurricane…

C.2019, Francisco Bravo Cabrera, Valencia, Spain, 12 DEC 2019

INSTAGRAM: @Francisco_Bravo_Cabrera

Jazz Art en Valencia: http://www.ArtPal.com/rfbravo1155

Piano Jazz by AJA: http://www.cdbaby.com/cd/aja

THANKS!

High Above the City Streets

(Plaça de la Porta de la Mar, València, foto de FBC, Derechos Reservados)

HIgh above the city streets,

where no one looks,

there flies a golden eagle…

Her eye is on something no one sees,

her wings are open to the silent breeze

and no one down below is yet aware

of her somewhere…

Life leaves traces in the sky,

leaves signs and signals by and by

and no one bothers to take a second look…

There are things

in our plain sight,

that grow as tall as giants by night

and stalk the alleys of your town

when no one’s around,

and no one sees…

Believing in things unseen and unheard

is a fantasy we’ve learned,

but to understand what life is all about

that takes more than just science somehow,

because no one even bothers to look

at the setting sun or the shining moon

to be aware of what is real,

is just too big a deal…

C.2019, 10 DEC 2019, Francisco Bravo Cabrera, Valencia, Spain

All Rights Reserved

And I Walk…

(Photo by FBC, All Rights Reserved)

And I walk but you can’t see me…

I dream and see your world beneath a clear glass dome…

I breathe and you feel laughter in the wind,

and fog covers your home…

And I walk but you can’t hear my footsteps,

I am leaning on your shoulder

and you can’t feel my weight,

I am sober, calm, collected

and you’re frightened by the thing that you’ve become…

And I walk but I don’t travel,

I don’t see beyond my walls.

And I walk but I can’t wonder far from home.

I’m the nuisance in your hurried path,

I’m the obstacle you must avoid,

I’m the rush of trucks, and cars and buses

that makes you stop when you want most to go…

And I walk, for now,

perhaps tomorrow I will run,

and the day after I may fly,

and you’ll still be alone…

C.2019, 10 DEC 2019, Francisco Bravo Cabrera, Valencia, Spain

INSTAGRAM: @Francisco_Bravo_Cabrera

“JaZzArt en Valencia”: http://www.ArtPal.com/rfbravo1155

Piano Jazz by AJA: http://www.cdbaby.com/cd/aja2

THANKS!