jueves, 21 de mayo de 2026

peón a b6

Te expliqué que hay sacrificios que se hacen por ventaja
que a veces perder una pieza salva todo lo que amás
pero vos veías derrota donde yo veía enseñanza
como quien abandona el juego antes de entender las reglas, te regalás

Yo hablaba de paciencia, de esperar el movimiento
vos querías jaque mate en los primeros diez momentos
como gente que acelera por miedo al aburrimiento
sin saber que las partidas grandes viven del suspenso

Nunca quisiste aprender por orgullo o por costumbre
decías “muchas reglas matan toda incertidumbre”
pero el caos sin dirección también destruye la cumbre
como barco sin timón celebrando su derrumbe

Vos moviendo la reina como si fuera inmortal
yo mirando cómo abrías todo el centro emocional
porque amar también implica defender lo esencial
y no exponer lo más valioso por impulso visceral

Te molestaba el silencio cuando yo analizaba
pero el ajedrez enseña que el apuro siempre habla
el que mueve por ansiedad muchas veces se regala
como quien grita en discusiones cuando el miedo lo desarma

Y yo cansado de explicar por qué el caballo hace curvas
cómo hay caminos indirectos que igual llegan a la altura
pero vos querías certezas inmediatas y absolutas
como gente que abandona los procesos por la euforia

Había belleza en tus errores, no voy a mentirte
esa torpeza transparente que tenía algo de libre
pero el juego se hace largo cuando nadie más compite
y enseñar sin interés lentamente te derrite

Porque no es lindo jugar contra alguien que no mira
que tira piezas por costado mientras el tablero gira
como hablarle de futuro a quien le asusta la rutina
o intentar construir puentes con quien romantiza ruinas

Vos confundías ser real con nunca pensar dos veces
yo aprendí que hasta el cariño necesita inteligencia
porque amar sin perspectiva deja heridas diferentes
como un rey mal protegido entre ataques permanentes

A veces creo que perdiste antes de empezar la ronda
no por falta de talento, solo miedo a la derrota
hay personas que prefieren incendiar todas las hojas
antes de aceptar que el tiempo también pule lo que toca

Y yo tampoco fui maestro, tuve errores evidentes
me obsesioné con controlar cada posible accidente
quise convertir el vínculo en partida inteligente
olvidando que en la vida nadie calcula la muerte

La última vez que jugamos ni tocaste las blancas
miraste el tablero fijo como quien mira una trampa
dijiste “siempre estás pensando mientras todo se desgasta”
y entendí que hay gente alérgica a vivir con la distancia

Porque algunos quieren fuego, otros buscan arquitectura
unos aman la tormenta, otros sostener la estructura
y no existe peor partida que forzar la misma ruta
cuando uno quiere raíces y el otro solo quiere la disputa

Jenga

Éramos Jenga sobre mesa de domingo en lo de tus viejos
bloques bien acomodados escondiendo los complejos
cada beso era madera sosteniendo los reflejos
pero el tiempo cobra caro y deja torcidos los espejos

Al principio yo te invito, birra fría y alquiler
dos adolescentes abrazándose pa’ no caer
Yo contando las monedas, vos queriendo enloquecer
como torre mal armada que no sabe dónde va a ceder

Y llegaron los ascensos, las reuniones y otra agenda
vos ganando como yo, yo ahorcado con la venda
cada compra era una pieza tambaleando la paciencia
porque el ego hace ruido aunque el amor haga presencia

Vos pagabas las salidas y yo el orgullo en silencio
yo ponía el combustible, vos el techo y el esfuerzo
la balanza mal llevada transforma abrazos en un juicio
como Jenga cuando un lado carga todo el edificio

Nos volvimos roommates tristes compartiendo el desayuno
hablando solo de cuentas y del precio del consumo
la heladera llena, sí, pero vacíos uno a uno
como torre que por fuera sigue firme frente al mundo

Tus amigas diciendo “dejalo, vos podés sola”
mis amigos “si ella cambia, hermano, la relación mejora”
todos metiendo la mano como jugadores ahora
pero nadie junta piezas cuando la estructura desmorona

Y vos gastando de más solo pa’ sentirte suficiente
zapatillas, cenas caras, aparentando ser fuerte
Yo mirando los extractos con los ojos de gerente
mientras el amor perdía contra números corrientes

La rutina fue humedad doblando las esquinas
vos dormida con la tele, yo fumando en la cocina
cada discusión pequeña removiendo otra tablita
hasta el gato se escondía cuando el silencio aparecía 

Éramos expertos mintiendo “todo bien” en las visitas
pero el piso ya crujía bajo todas las sonrisas
como familias que cenan mientras sangran las heridas
sosteniendo tradiciones pa’ evitar despedidas

Y el problema del Jenga nunca fue sacar la pieza
es creer que el movimiento no sacude lo que queda
cada acto individual tiene una fractura secreta
todo “yo” mal administrado hace caer la careta

Vos querías vacaciones, yo pagarle a mis viejos
Vos soñando independencias, yo soñando hijos lejos
tironeando de los bloques pa’ cumplir deseos viejos
sin notar que entre los dos demolíamos el techo

La última noche fue simple, ni portazos ni teatro
solo dos desconocidos compartiendo el mismo cuarto
vos doblando tus remeras, yo mirando el calendario
como obreros que abandonan un edificio incendiado

Y entendí viendo la mesa vacía después del ruido
que en el Jenga de la vida nadie gana lo perdido
porque aun quien tira el bloque y sale ileso del partido
queda solo entre pedazos de algo que había construido

Ahora paso por tu calle como quien evita ruinas
veo parejas discutiendo por trabajo y gasolina
y recuerdo que el amor no se destruye de un día
se desgasta pieza a pieza con pequeñas cobardías

concrete bloom 3

Street lights dead, now the sunrise look hostile
Jaw tight, fist balled, still mad spiral
Ash on the sink, paint drops on the gray tee
Broke mirrors last night, now the shards wanna fight me.

G minor in the rearview, grief still in rotation
Switched keys but the lock still rage-shaken
Had to bury old me in the backyard dirt
Funny thing is, I still feel him under my shirt

Street sweeper cleaning where the glass got shattered
New block, same scars, none of that mattered
Burned bridges for heat — that’s revenge and survival
Also how I learned who was gasoline vital

Concrete bloom where the shell case landed
Hope grow weird when your whole past damaged
Said “it left marks” — bullet holes, love bites, and memories
Now every scar on me got a separate energy

Fast cash, fast fists, slow recovery
Hate taste sweet when the pain is not a luxury
Penthouse view with a war in the lobby
Champagne pop sound like somebody got bodied

Window reflection look ready to swing back
Ghost in the glass saying “you still think that?”
I moved weight — yeah pain, plates, and product
Still throw blows at the wall when I’m honest

New day rising but the sky look bruised still
Sunlight hit me like a cop at a room fill
Half my old friends either dead or lost their minds 
Other half switched sides when the bui'ness closed blinds

Hot soul, cold sweats, dark humor coping
Carry rage tucked like a blade when I'm smoking
Had to cut dead weight — now the whole team lighter
Funny how loss turn a broke boy fighter

Blue Hour gone but the night still breathing
Anger in my chest got the ribs cave-creaking
Morning came clean but my hands still tired
Rebuilt myself colder but with a soul on fire

concrete bloom 2

Yeah, the blue light's gone, the sun hit the bricks,
Woke up with the city, no more magic tricks.
Coffee in the cup, smoke rising to the sky,
Watched the night fade right in front of my eye.
G minor in the rear view, major key today,
Pushed the heavy clouds and the static all away.
The street sweepers cleaning up the mess we left behind,
Got a fresh slate, new rhythm in my mind.

Concrete bloom, yeah, a flower in the crack,
Step into the light, ain't no looking back.
We survived the lobby, we survived the screen,
Now we moving forward in this life's routine

Yeah. The Blue Hour is over.
Welcome to the morning

Yeah, blue light gone, now the sunrise hit hard
Slept two hours with the TV still on
Ash on the hoodie, coffee gone cold
Still got a little bit of hate in my soul

Window half cracked, hear the buses outside
City waking up while I'm dead in the eyes
Last night felt like fistfights and sirens
This morning feel quiet but the rage still hiding

G minor in the rearview, switch lanes
Whole life went left but I still maintained
Had to let the wreck burn out on its own
Now the smoke clear slow while I drive back home

Street sweep clean where we broke ourselves down
Same old blocks but they different right now
Concrete bloom where the rainwater drip
Came up from the mud with a pain-made grip

I don't want revenge, I want peace and distance
But part of me still want names and vengeance
Still replay conversations in my head
Still got ghosts in the hall by the bed

New day, same scars, fresh air though
Heart still heavy but the head move careful
Sun hit gold on the side of the train
Felt good for a second then I thought of the pain

We survived the silence, survived bad habits
Survived fake love and the self-made damage
Now the city's alive and the sky turn orange
But the anger still live somewhere deep in the storage

Fast walk, headphones, downtown morning
Half healed, half numb, still transforming
Used to want the world just to prove I existed
Now I just want calm when the room get twisted

Blue Hour gone, now the day move clearer
Finally recognize my face in the mirror
Still got war in me, still got scars to discover
But I made it through the night, now the morning recover

Yeah
The Blue Hour over
Welcome to the morning

But don't act like the night ain't still inside me

concrete bloom 1

Yeah, the blue light's gone, the sun hit the bricks,
Woke up with the city, no more magic tricks.
Coffee in the cup, smoke rising to the sky,
Watched the night fade right in front of my eye.
G minor in the rear view, major key today,
Pushed the heavy clouds and the static all away.
The street sweepers cleaning up the mess we left behind,
Got a fresh slate, new rhythm in my mind.

Concrete bloom, yeah, a flower in the crack,
Step into the light, ain't no looking back.
We survived the lobby, we survived the screen,
Now we moving forward in this life's routine

Yeah. The Blue Hour is over.
Welcome to the morning.

Reminisce

While the Bard tends the wounds
The bartender pours a drink
IPA got me “In-PAin” again
Heart locked in a cage I made

IPA, I-Pain, sip slow in the dark
Bard with the bars, big scars on the heart
Build high, break down, stay when it gets too hard
IPA in my veins, young Bard in the park

IPA, cold glass, smoke clouds in the yard
Bard sings blues while the world fall apart
Built mine just to burn every brick that I carved
IPA nights, all pain for the Bard

Bard with the bars in the back booth
Sad songs, black hoodie, cracked tooth
IPA in the pint glass, past due
Bad moods, half-truths, black boots


martes, 19 de mayo de 2026

Static on the tv
Static on the walls
Ecstatic for what I feel
Optimistic on your fall

But I know dog you shouldn't blame it all on the call or the misses of these words
They are here to fill the voids that you created with your swords.
But not because you're leaving my soul got punched a hole,
It's the things you took away with you
That kinda make me want to lose control
As a whole, as a man, as a nothing-with-ideas
That the drama splinters like crackling fire on your freezing fears
The ordeals, or the noise of my mind just switching gears
Like a tank or a leopard you won't get to see me near
But the booms and the baps will constantly remind you
That the raps and this trap is all I had to do

viernes, 15 de mayo de 2026

And if you had a question
I'm not sure of the response
Would you take this piece of silence 
Or would you rather have me suppose
That I can fit any truth into any of these flows
Or that the words we're always saying
Can never really add up to what we disclose

And this closing of the markets is
Just a few minutes away
Or whenever you think that 
There's something else to say 
I can shut them doors be tranquil
"This was just another day"

But the shit you got all on you 
make you wanna come correct, 
bitch I'm talking you're just waiting 
for me to make the bed in which you slept

Don't you worry anymore tho
This life can go and come
I can hide out in the lo lo
You can kick it with the drum 
Or the snares 
in a way 
that make you feel 
like you had Rhum, 
Acting dumb - oh so innocent -
always being on the run.

Drop the cinder on my ego
Behaved that way since the start 
I say come you say go 
Shit, just let it fall apart.

miércoles, 13 de mayo de 2026

concrete rumble

Step out the frame, the door clicks behind me,
Leaving the screen where the shadows used to find me.
Cold air hits like a palm to the face,
Now I’m just a ghost in a neon-lit space.
Walking the rhythm of a 92 beat,
Counting the cracks in the skin of the street.
The city is a lung and I’m catching the breath,
Somewhere between a new life and a death.
Cabs that glide like sharks in the dark,
Flicker of a light in a desolate park.
I’m a neon ghost, but I’m finally moving,
Nothing to win and there’s nothing left for proving.

Neon ghost, floating through the haze,
Caught in the middle of a concrete maze.
The light is red but I’m moving away,
Another shadow tryna find the break of day.

miércoles, 6 de mayo de 2026

Gymnopedie No3

julio en el norte y la Panamericana está muerta
smoke from my mouth, another night alerta

another sleepless night
your street in Acassuso still lives in my chest
those jacaranda bones stripped bare, no rest

the country club lights bleed through the pine
somebody else's party, somebody's wine

I used to know which gate code let me in
now I'm outside every wall I've ever been
the train still runs at six, the platform's cold
Mitre line carrying stories getting old

the Mitre commuter rail line
same bench in San Isidro where we sat
cathedral in the fog — you can't go back
I order submarino sipping slow alone

the bar on Libertador feels less like home
the delta water's dark and don't reflect stars
Tigre taught me rivers carry mud and scars

humo en Mayo, corazón partido
replaying your face like a film I can't quit
the piano falls soft like the first winter rain
zona norte taught me how to live with pain

your sweater still folded on the edge of the bed
haven't moved it — some quiet war in my head
between erasing and holding what remains
grief is just love with nowhere left to drain

found an old photo tucked behind the mirror
Campana in summer, you laughing, and it's clearer
than anything I got in the present tense
memory's sharper when it don't make no fucking sense

the asado smoke from the neighbor's yard
smells like every sunday that we let our guard
down — wine on the deck, the eucalyptus cold
zona norte suburbs got their own kind of old

not cobblestones — it's driveways and white gates
loneliness dressed up in manicured estates

step out to the garden, let the frost take me
step out to the garden
exhale everything you were — the smoke remake me

maybe you were always just the winter —
something beautiful that enters and splinters
the smoke disappears but the cold stays on
the Pana keeps running long after you're gone

Gymnopedie No2

step outside, let the cold do its thing
lighter clicks, that small familiar sting
breath and smoke, can't tell 'em apart no more
winter got a way of settling the score

street lights bleed through the frosted glass
every face I knew feels like a photograph
faded at the edges, overexposed
memories like embers — warm until they're cold

the city hums low underneath the frost
I keep walking like I'm searching for what's lost
coat pulled tight against the hollow wind
revisiting every place that I have been

the corner store still got the same damn light
fluorescent buzz, same cold, same night
I exhale slow and watch it fade to grey
some things leave a shape before they drift away

smoke rising slow in the december air
replaying scenes like I could still be there
the piano keeps falling like the first snow falls
I'm just a ghost between these four walls

old voicemails I never had the heart to clear
I press play just to keep the voice somewhere near
the static hiss is almost like a room
where everyone I lost is still in bloom

trace the crack along the kitchen wall
remember painting that the summer y'all
laughed until the sun was barely there
now I carry it all in the winter air

pull the blanket of the past around my shoulders
every winter makes the distance feel colder
old mixtape crackling through a blown-out speaker
the melody's the same but the feeling's weaker

or maybe I just know too much now
grown enough to see the seams and the rough
still I rewind it, still I press play
chasing the warmth of a long-gone day

maybe memory's just smoke —
it takes a shape, then lets you go
dissipates but leaves the scent behind
that's the only kind of peace I find

Gymnopedie No1

exhale slow, watch it dissolve in the cold
some things leave a shape before they go

step outside, let the cold do its thing
lighter clicks, a small familiar sting
breath and smoke, can't tell 'em apart no more
winter got a way of keeping score

the street lights bleed through the frosted glass
Every face I knew feels like a photograph
faded at the edges, overexposed
memories like embers — warm until they're cold

smoke rising slow in the december air
replaying scenes like I could still be there
the piano keeps falling like the first snow falls
I'm just a ghost between these four walls

old voicemails I never had the heart to hear
I press play just to keep the voice somewhere near
the static hiss feels almost like a room
where everyone I lost is still in bloom

I trace the crack along the kitchen wall
remember that painting in the summer y'all
laughed until the sun was barely there —
now I carry it all in the winter air

smoke rising slow in the december air
replaying scenes like I could still be there
the piano keeps falling like the first snow falls
I'm just a ghost between these four walls

maybe memory's just smoke —
it takes a shape, then lets you go
dissipates but leaves the scent behind
that's the only kind of peace I find

contando frases

Late night vinyl with the window cracked open

City lights flicker while the whole block smokin’

Heartbreak floatin’ in the bassline motion

Still dance slow like the pain stay golden

She said “don’t leave,” but the cab kept rollin’

Half truth texts got the screen light glowin’

I laugh loud just to hide what’s broken

Soul got scars but the chain still frozen

Old school drums with the mellow progression

Mama said pride turn love to a weapon

I was outside learnin’ life through tension

Now every bar sound deep like confessions

Ash on the denim, jazz in the speakers

Lost a few friends to the chase for sneakers

Dreams get sold when the rent due cheaper

Everybody gang ‘til the room get quieter

Neon reflections all over the puddles

We was young kids makin’ kings outta struggles

Cheap champagne, still toastin’ accomplishments

Sad eyes hidden behind dark sunglasses

She move smooth with a disco elegance

Gold hoops swing with the beat and resonance

I write pain but the cadence heaven-sent

Broke boys prayin’ one hit bring relevance

Missed calls stack while I’m chasin’ deadlines

Tryna make art that survive through hard times

Grandpa told me every star got dark sides

So I keep soul in the bars and the punchlines

Rain on the rooftop matched the percussion

Love turned cold from the lack of discussion

Now my whole crew got trust interruption

Still we toast to the nights we had nothin’

Low rider dreams with the tape deck humming

Hustlers outside hear the train tracks drummin’

I seen fake love turn real when the funds in

Then disappear when the champagne done with

But I still ride through the city with passion

Old wounds stitched into lyrical fashion

Slow groove bounce while the heartbreak flashing

“Oh honey” vibes with a soul rap adaptation

martes, 5 de mayo de 2026

Continuando el derroche 
El empaste de anoche
La crítica más sublime
La dejaste en el porche
De mentiras bien contadas o de cuentos bien mentidos 
en la vida del embrollo que solo sabe de tirar sus tiros

En las sombras de las tardes
Que tarde sabe sobre sombras
De pelos en el sweater y que pidan otra ronda

De momentos de bebidas y también de ese vicio

domingo, 3 de mayo de 2026

Obligado a escribir entre todas las mentiras
Esperando que sea esta frase 
La que me muestre la cima
Encima 
me quejo, 
mirando a la nada
Buscando entre silencios las palabras mal habladas

Encontrando las promesas todas rotas en el baño 
Como otro adolescente que se pasa por el año 
El paño o el apaño en la vida del desgano
Solo va y decide pero sin contemplar el daño 

El desgano en la mentira del querer un buen vivir
El querer en la mentira de solo verte sonreír 
Pienso, como la cabeza a la que le faltan tuercas
La sonrisa va tapada por palabras siempre huecas

Que los huecos de palabras no rellenen la pared
Ni las palabras en los huecos solo nos generen sed
De conectar, de entender, quizás planear algún futuro
Donde tu ego y tu avaricia no construyan ese muro
Es duro, parece, pero eso ya lo sé 
Llevo años viendo como se arma ese almacén 

De palabras, sin actos, ladrillo hueco y cartón
3 paredes con un vidrio 
En la entrada un chapon

Los agnósticos hoy se juntan
Y se ríen de la vida
Mientras trabo con la llave 
Nuestra última mentira