Last love poems: For him

May 3, 2018

By Eddy Montilla.

You tell me that you don’t know what’s going wrong,

the reason I don’t call you and I’m distant from you,

You ask for our oath and where it has gone,

the oath of two schoolboys who played at being men,

with their hands on their chests, saying one day

that they will be forever, forever the best friends.

You told me that nothing has changed

even though now you married her

because I am like your brother, I am your best friend

and there is an open door always waiting for me.

You want me to come to visit you the way I used to…

to play chess on Sundays and have one or two drinks

to talk about us and all those things

because before she came to your life,

Was not your life our friendship?

and I know her like the rain knows the prairie or plenty more besides.

“There is no reason to be alone”. You said, “It’s time for a happy life.”

Don’t forget, my friend, what I told you on that night:

Distance sometimes can be the best proof for a friendship

and can keep it alive.

I gave up everything to remain loyal to you,

loyalty that grows with distance,

distance that fertilizes my sorrows,

sorrows from long hours of loneliness

and the thought of what could have been,

but was never meant to be.

I did that for you, not for me.

And, please, do not tell me any more

that she is always asking about me,

that she wants to see me

even if it is just for a brief time.

You don’t know why she wants to talk to me

and think that it might be things related to the three.

Have you never thought that reality has two sides?

You only have seen yours and have forgotten mine.

Next time she asks you about me again,

please, tell her that I left the town

and you don’t know why, you don’t know when,

but you heard I live in some distant land.

To live in exile to keep my words,

to keep my friendship and my oath.

Oh, my friend! What a good man! How naïve you are!

You never knew she loved me and I loved her too.

But one day… One day you saw her and your love began

We had the best dream, we lived the best life.

But I don’t break my oath: You are my best friend.

Since that day I left her and that’s why today

you can call her: “wife”.

Copyright 2018 All rights are reserved.


Last love poems: On that day

February 25, 2018

By Eddy Montilla.

Lying on the bed, unable to sleep,

wrapped in the darkness of a cold night

without an old dog, without a mere: “good night!”

or some sound that makes me believe

that I don’t live alone, that I live with someone,

that I am alive.

Lying on my bed, on my empty bed,

the only place in the world

where all seasons are gelid winters

with short days, long moments and longer nights,

packed with sad memories of the past

that come flooding back

to bring torments upon myself.

I turn on the TV and I watch nothing.

I take my phone and I find nothing.

I open the windows and I hear nothing.

Time goes by, and so do my days,

days that turn into weeks; weeks that turn into months

and months into years,

years that fade away in front of my eyes,

taking my life and giving me nothing in return.

What’s loneliness? I ask myself tonight:

The love that never came or the one that flew away?

What’s loneliness? I want to ask you tonight:

My dejected heart or my clock, always ticking in my room?

I’m tired and I’ve never hidden that:

I just have never admitted it, I’ve never told that.

I don’t want to say anything. I don’t want to think anything

because the only thing I have today

is the hope for a brighter tomorrow,

a tomorrow where I can see the sea near me

and have a garden where I might cultivate flowers

to give them to a heart in love,

to give my roses to someone like the sea, to someone near me.

Yes. A tomorrow with a little house on the prairie

where I can do “little things”: to have a coffee

and look at the mountains at sunset…

On that day, it will no longer be necessary to delude myself

and try to turn my reality into dreams

by writing these Last Love Poems,

because on that day, on that day, like the sea,

love will be near me…

love will be with me, forever, on my bed.

Copyright 2018 All rights are reserved.

Last Love Poems: Between love and friendship

July 22, 2017

By Eddy Montilla.

If you see her someday, there is nothing you have to say.

When time and distance presage the worst,

bare silence is better than plain words.

Show her your best smile, raise your head

and keep calm instead.

And she will come to understand

how sad sadness can be,

how deeply it can bore through your soul.

Talk to her about everything, but don’t tell her anything.

A long time has passed

and time says things, and it also betrays…

Please, don’t tell her anything…

don’t tell her how I have been,

If I smile or cry, if I cry or smile,

if I still go out in the evenings

for my long walks,

not a single word to her.

Don’t tell her the way I live; don’t tell her the way I’m dying.

If I can neither live in the present nor forget my past,

if I buried my future or I’m still looking for it,

if I joke as I did to make people laugh,

to hide my taciturn heart,

If my saddest poems come in autumn or spring,

just raise your head, show your smile, don’t tell her anything

because dry leaves are blown by the wind,

but the wind is also blown by the dry leaves.

If you see her someday, don’t show her anything.

Neither show her pictures nor videos.

That only helps to engender rumours

that will die at first light.

To recall distant memories and surf on the waves of nostalgia

will not make me grow, will not increase my hopes.

Today, at this point of my life,

I leave those things for a special night:

My room in half-light,

with Spanish Serrano ham and Manchego cheese

and a glass of red wine to nurture treasured memories.

If you see her some day,

keep walking forever, but stop for a while.

We both loved her and neither of us had her.

We both lost her. It’s time to forget.

You loved her outside; I loved her inside.

I loved her soul; you loved her smile.

We are friends, friends with ties,

ties that bind us to a friendship that will never die.

Copyright 2017 All rights are reserved.

Last Love Poems: If I could back to my past…

February 28, 2017


By Eddy Montilla.

If I could go back to my past, I would have told her “Yes!” to whom so many times I told her “No!”

I would have kissed my best friend on that rainy night after class,

the only opportunity I had, the only thing she really asked.

I still remember that rainy night…

Walking together under one umbrella,

full of dreams, full of hopes.

She, perhaps, looking for something different and similar,

and I, for sure, without even knowing how to react.

If I could go back to my past, I would have told her “No!” to whom I told her “Yes!”

because when it comes to love, half love is worse than nothing.

I would have taken more risks,

I would have drowned my fears for the future

and would have taken more actions in the present.

If I could go back to my past,

I would have cultivated more roses instead of waiting for shooting stars.

I would have walked more on the sand, barefoot, singing a song,

enjoying the sea, looking at the horizon while trying to find mine.

I would have gone more frequently to the park where she used to walk

and have walked less with my loneliness.

If I could… Only Lord knows how many things I would have done
If I could…

But I can’t.

Copyright 2017 All rights are reserved.

Last Love Poems: She went away…

July 18, 2016

By Eddy Montilla.

IMAGE: Eddy Montilla

Image: Eddy Montilla

She went away…

Don’t ask me why.

Don’t the waves do the same after kissing the shore?

Does the moon stay with us every day at dawn?

Birds leave their nests when time has come.

Petals say goodbye to flowers full of hope.

Passion dies when love has gone

like happiness without little things inside.

Water escapes if the soil is dry

and clouds, clouds are blown away by the wind.

Even our friends go away and

the remembrance of them will not stay.

She went away…

Don’t ask me with whom,

because love and freedom take the same path,

but it is always freedom that should go first.

I never think about names, people or places.

If someone exists, he will be there.

It doesn’t make sense to think about him:

It would take up my time,

the time I need to think about her.

I don’t want to imagine how he could be,

I don’t want to destroy all she did.

She went away…

Don’t ask me where.

Any place is perfect when tranquillity is found.

Distance grows over time, but much more over pain.

Who cares about places when there is no love.

Her presence was my compass, the west where the sun sets.

I don’t know where I am. I know where I’m from.

I don’t know where she is, but she will not come.

She went away…

Don’t ask me when.

Any time is good to leave,

to start from the beginning when we reached the end,

to say no when it hurts us to say yes

and to say yes when we don’t have a no.

Yes, she went away…

I also have to do the same,

but with my best smile, without haste,

holding my head high

and ignoring what people were saying.

I cannot walk the same path.

I will not run after her,

after oasis of calm I cannot see,

a cruel mirage that makes me bleed.

Copyright 2016 All rights are reserved.

Last Love Poems: Love from the school

March 1, 2016

By Eddy Montilla.


Love from the school, you suddenly came,

without being called, without being seen,

building up false hopes, just like a dream

among the memories of an immature child

that by the passage of time, by the vicissitudes of life

could finally understand his broken heart.

What a lot of excuses I made and all silly comments I said!

The things we do when we are young,

the things we do when we are in love…

Always walking around your house,

so frequently that your neighbours used to laugh at me,

waiting for hours where you had to walk,

just happy to see you straight past

and happier to see you stop for a while,

searching for a way to draw your attention,

your attention that let me to go home to daydream

or to dream my night.

Love from the school, I am alone in my room,

writing these simple verses and having a coffee.

On grey days like this one, loneliness increases

and that’s why, perhaps, I’m thinking of you now,

trying to imagine what you are doing…

Reading a book, playing with your kids,

living your life day by day, year by year,

with many happy afternoons without a single lovely night.

Love from the school, I heard from my friends

that sometimes you ask for me…

Should I be happy or confused?

Should I scream or be mute?

You know what? I don’t feel the same I felt for you.

Don’t misunderstand me: Thank you for loving me in the distance,

for being away from me

because that distance and unrequited love

bore through my soul, hurt my heart

and filled it with sadness that created remembrances,

remembrances of you that I will never forget.

Then, who could be happier than me?

Copyright 2016 All rights are reserved.