"I write because by writing i find beauty.
To speak about terror or human cruelty is
to seek a way for beauty and justice.
To write is to go against.
All my novels, historical or not, are the way:
From the soul to the soul."



Eleven selections of poetry 


Winter will find me naked

In a dilapidated room

With time welling up through the holes of the floors

Winter will find me stirring the ashes of my poetry

A handful of words -- like star or blood

Like I wander or oath -- like

Souls can smell -- I burn them to warm myself.

Winter will find me barefoot wandering

Up and down the one and only abyss

The soil is soft I sink into it

Mud from ancient stars

"I will get through," I say

Branches of the azure in my hands

And the tree officiates over the silver of the desert

Odor of the boundless void

My pained matter that I inhabited.

I raise my poetry before

Garment stained with blood

I burn it to warm myself.

And it rains and rains in my tattered room

Which sways a reward for fire

It rains full moon and ancient blood

Crystals laden with my centuries.

I bend over to look at myself in the most,

In the most deep well of cracked crystal

My face perplexed and mournful

And it rains and rains silver deserts on the sacred icon

My body is an odor of night's shudder

And the archangel standing in the window

Fashions a sensuous curve from God and Universe

I wrap myself in the boundless azure

To pass through.

Winter will find me dreaming

A rose sprouted on the storm

With paradise shifting like a mirage

and Time still prophetic

liberating the stars from my flesh.

Winter will find me in the desert

Marching like a revelation

And Age, the Exterminator, melts like

A scented candle

With the seven flames kindled in my body

Sites of nascent whiteness

With a frgrance of burnt pine-needle for recognition

A rose that prays forgotten

At the edge of the storm

I walk no longer

I sink down like a prophetic dream.

And the abyss rose up
to my knees
Poetry, 2012
"To you I return one by one the moonlights that
I was granted
and those gratis autumns
the first rains of love
the view to the unspeaking
to you, Maria
of ruined time
eaten away by tears
and transpiring the old paradises"


The Agony of Memory

One by one, I loose the bonds
The dream will be the last to be uprooted
The dream the dream torments me -- joints
That groan lost azure in the deepest depths
My body
The odor of sky and of frigid star
Is lost in my millennia of a flowing
Pagan dream.

I have not yet loosed all the bonds
Moonlit nights oaths diaries and farewell
The earth rejects me, a foreign body
I will avenge myself, I say, with lucidity my weapon
I will pass beyond time like the flash of incubated crystal
I will pass like the silver of the desert
That outwits the darkness
Holding in my hands the mark:
Odor of birth-blood.
The dream will be uprooted last or I
Some hand will uproot me from the dream
Like a flower trodden by Time
What did I dream? What did I dream?
I will no longer remember
My house is uninhabited
Only memory remains among the crumbling walls
I hear its heavy footsteps -- something
Like a cry in the dark
I wear it next to my skin with my first abyss
A flower whitened by my tears
And death laden with paradises
A window forgotten in the night
Illuminating the other life.
Death twisting
Climbing up my body
Displaces the boundaries

I am the burning memory that flows toward the Light
I no longer own the matter given me
I turn it into a poem
To pass through.
My soul ever more alien
Embraced by the abyss
I recognize it by the

Odor of night that riddled it like rust

A strip of azure
Pierced through by my sleep
I am left alone
With my soul erect
Bidding farewell to the old mooring
With tears I rinse time off the form of my Soul
With my blood I rinse the abyss off its fissures
To take it with me.



The Little Child that Went Away

The Agony of Blood

"A dream erect

Upon the abyss."


You said you will come

Perhaps with the autumn leaves or the rain

Perhaps with the sound of the knife on the heart

With the shudder that terror leaves on the flesh

You know the mystic passages

You will come

To show me the way

Flesh from my flesh once

Blood from my bitter blood

You keep the traces from your mystic passage within me

Signal bearers

For the dawning night.


Now that the circle is closing around me

And it grows dark

Now that time

Trapped in my flesh

Illuminates the frontiers

You come from your mystic passage


Your memory the smell of blood on my body

And my hands

Wound around the flame that burned

Your face

My hands laden with absences

Seek you

Rose of blood

And of Night.


You come like an oracle of the Unknown

Dilating the particles of matter

For me to pass through.


To pass through to the other Dimension

To the other Time

To be able to touch you beyond

My perishable words beyond

The stony tears

Fragrance of the Soul

That the blood intuits.


Dilating the particles of matter

You open for me a path of light

To find you

In your upper world.


"You went away

And my soul broadened

In the infinite," I said

But I did not know then -- then yet

What it means to demagnetize silence

The inner space

To change your body into vision

I did not know, did not know what was hidden

In the depths I carried to my ephemeral landscapes

And now there

My body of jasper and sard

I settle like an echo of the deep

With sound no longer

A vessel of shining soul.


"Thank you that I loved you

in death," I said

But I did not know then

Did not know, little child,

That this love

Made the abyss to flower

And my soul was emptied within me

To evangelize the desert

At the hour when your cry

Rent the universe,

Tender star.

And I was seeking a flower for the parting

I was begging the night

To bring me back my cry

And raising a wooden cross

At the root of the world.

A dull glass between us the other time

And I cannot master fate

And I cannot master the ages that entwined you

In your upper paths.


"I do not write you with perishable words," I said

But piece by piece I fracture eternity

To send you a sign

Piece by piece I fracture my soul

To open the way

I do not write you with letters that are consumed

In the first flame

But piece by piece I fracture death

To pass through.