Every inch of your skin,

I’ll devour tonight…

You want me to want you,

to want your needs,

and I could…

In every minute there’s a chance that I might,

embrace you tenderly,

or not at all…

There’s a fading scent of you

creating a ghostly spectacle,

or just a smile…

There’s a light that fights to shine

but darkness,

is much too powerful,

isn’t that so?


Every second of your life,

I’ll avoid your presence,

you need me to want you,

but I’m not near,

though I could,

I could free you from your thoughts and laughter,

and set you free,

or not at all…

C.2020, Francisco Bravo Cabrera, 20 JAN 2020, Valencia, Spain

INSTAGRAM: @Francisco_Bravo_Cabrera

JaZzArt en Valencia: (2019 collection of paintings):

Piano Jazz by Abstract Jazz Arrangement (AJA):


A Soldier’s Dreams…

(That’s me on the far right standing. Foto property of FBC, All Rights Reserved)

Walking on a flowing stream to never leave a trace,

shadows seem to watch me,

haunt me,

scare me,

but I must keep my pace…

the never ending flow of snow that melted up so high,

is absurdly inviting…

The weight of stones upon the earth is but a fraction of the burden of my birth,

I stand above the ground with a knowledge of impunity

although I don’t believe it’s really true,

there was nothing I could do…

I wear this uniform of green of black of brown

and passed so close to them without a sound.

I had the vote of confidence, I didn’t really need

to bring forth heavy consequences with such unearthly speed…

I walked without the boots I left buried in the mire

to make it look like I had died there,

it’s something I required…

My feet feel frozen from the water, so cold, so clear, so clean,

and it makes my head a bit confused,

I don’t know where I’ve been…

But now I just move forward,

the past has not remained ingrained,

upon the neurons and synapses that constitute my brain.

A soldier’s dreams are secret,

why should they be exposed

and thinking this, I realised

my legs had all but frozed.

But I must walk upon this stream,

to never leave a trace,

I wonder sadly what has happened

to the human race…

C.2020, Francisco Bravo Cabrera, 16 JAN 2020, Valencia, Spain

INSTAGRAM: @Francisco_Bravo_Cabrera

JazzArt en Valencia:

Jazz by AJA (Abstract Jazz Arrangement) Piano Jazz:


Narcissistic Supersonic

She chases, with an obsessive whim, a state of mind,

something that she hope’s will take her back in time,

like a spirit so mysterious,

or a ghost that feigns deliriums,

she will hunt the haunted dreamers

and leave the scene of the crime.

She watches her reflexion strolling by,

On the sidewalks and the waste that on them lie,

and she’s gathered folk for dinner,

some are losers, some are winners,

but they’re friends,

until the end,

there’s nothing more she could try.

She always carries a big, ostentatious leather bag,

Black and gold and red in back.

And inside you’ll find her vanity,

which seems to absorb insanity,

and nothing more, a mirror’s what you will find…

She chases what she thinks of as a dream,

reality, for her, is what has never been.

She’s nostalgic of the past,

a past that was never real,

and her present is no longer

a place where she can abide.

Yellow words and deep dark phrases rule her mind,

in a room where there’s no way to tell the time,

if it’s time for tea and flowers,

time for sunsets every hour,

it’s a pity

but the city,

cannot survive without her footsteps at night.

She chases an impression of her youth,

all the lies that she confessed are now the truth,

a prolific histrionic,

narcissistic, supersonic,

she’s a presence

and the essence

of all the thoughts I never wanted to find…

C.2020, Francisco Bravo Cabrera, 14 JAN 2020, Valencia, Spain,

INSTAGRAM: @Francisco_Bravo_Cabrera

Jazz Art en Valencia:

Piano Jazz by the Abstract Jazz Arrangement (AJA):


Long Long Long Ago…

Who said goodbye, who said hello,

who labeled those days as a start,

I think I’ll never know,

because all I could do was wonder at the love around me,

smile at all who treasured me,

I was a child and I saw all I could see

with angel eyes…

Angel eyes that see no suffering and pain,

special clear, clean eyes that catch the rain

as cool refreshing small drops fell

and made me rub them,

close them,

open them again

I don’t know when…

I don’t know when those days became so long ago,

where do the years hide,

if only I could know,

I’d search the darkest closets,

the deepest drawers,

the attics, basements

photographs and more.

I would live to try and find the loved ones left behind

that populate my picture albums

together with the dust of years,

of so many years just lying in a box beneath the boxes of

forgotten things,

and what is it that time brings?


Nostalgic thoughts…

a noisy children’s party filled with folks of five years old,

in a house you can’t remember, long ago got sold…

A long long long time ago

the air was fresh

and those who breathed on this fine earth

those years so long ago,

now exist only in dreams, sometimes,

or in pictures on our walls…

C.2020, Francisco Bravo Cabrera, 06 JAN 2020, Valencia, Spain

INSTAGRAM: @Francisco_Bravo_Cabrera

JazzArt en Valencia:

Funky-World Beat Blues/Jazz:


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:

Piano Jazz by AJA:


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:

Jazz by AJA (Piano Jazz):


Es el Tiempo

Las manos del reloj cortan cabezas,

cortan sueños y roban años,

sin importarle…al tiempo…que un extraño

quiera acercarse a ti,

para besar tu mano,

para darte un ramo de blancas rosas,

y entre esas flores hermosas

pasarse mil y una horas hablandote palabras tiernas, amorosas,

para dejar de ser extraño en tu presencia,

y juntar su sombra con tu voz.

Quiere detener el viento y hacerse el aire

que sopla lentamente entre los dos…

Pero el tiempo es implacable,

el reloj, feroz enemigo de los ratos

lánguidos de ocio,

y no deja de correr, cuan bestia de la prisa,

pues ese es el reloj, que muerto de la risa

corta cabeza, brazos y piernas,

robandonos el deseo y la intención,

y al final, no deja nada,

solo tiempo…

C.2019, Francisco Bravo Cabrera, 28 de diciembre de 2019, Valencia, España

INSTAGRAM: @Francisco_Bravo_Cabrera

JaZzArt en Valencia 2019:

Piano Jazz de AJA:


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.

Hoy le falta un pétalo…

Hoy le falta un pétalo a una flor…

quizá a una margarita, pero no me parece…

y una pluma al ala de un ruiseñor y una nota, el Si bemol, a un canario canoso, triste y ajado.

Hoy le faltan cuentos por mentir al viejo de la esquina,

y le sobra algún ochavo al avaro que examina

sus cuentas a diario,

pues hoy es el aniversario

de aquel día perfecto, extraordinario

de un invierno,

soleado y tibio,

en la Costa de Marfil…


¿sería Estoril donde nos juntamos por un tiempo?

y a pesar de este silencio que fielmente nos amaña,

entre las sedas y amarres de Alquitrán,

rompemos la telaraña,

y hoy saldremos a bailar a los guateques de mi barrio,

con ganas,

pues quizá, no se,

si mañana se nos olvide el recuerdo,

y se nos confundan los verbos

y nos quiten lo bailao…

C.2019, Francisco Bravo Cabrera, 26 de diciembre de 2019, Valencia, España.

INSTAGRAM: @Francisco_Bravo_Cabrera

JaZzArt en Valencia:

Piano Jazz de Abstract Jazz Arrangement (AJA):


A Fish in the City…

(“Bododesigns” Omnia Caelum Studios Valencia, foto by FBC)

They’re yellow and purple,

some red and some green,

the fish that live in the city and

the mollusks that walk on the sidewalk,

and the seaweed that rides on the bus

from Uptown to Tribeca,

in this fish-pond that we call New York…

Some have made their way up to the Bronx,

others in a brownstone in Brooklyn,

with a minimalist view of the urban decor,

they live well, these fish from the city…

There’s a group in the Village

that dream of a song that once

bounced from stonewalls to gardens.

On St. Mark’s place they lingered,

on the Bowery they lounged

with four lads that just wanted to play CBGB…

But a fish cannot choose where to stand,

or demand anything, or insist there’s a place

in this pond of black water

for gills and for fins, for scales and for tales to order

another stale beer

from this bar…

From this bar called the Helpless,

from this kitchen without light or gas,

from these tables that haven’t seen plenty

in all these long years that have passed.

But we struggle and live in the city,

like a fish in the sand

always shouting, “I can!”

always dreaming I will,

but we didn’t…

C.2019 Francisco Bravo Cabrera, 25 DEC 2019, Valencia, Spain