How To Make Some Ones Life Miserable

Said Luder 2 (JR Ribeyro)

Luder 6 I ask why not write novels.
"Because I am a short distance runner. If I expose myself to run marathon to reach the stage when the audience is gone.

7-I hear your name attached to certain German suffixes mean, stupid, lazy, runt ...
"No wonder Luder says. I always believed in the prophetic character of names.

8 Walking with a friend, Luder is reflected in a shop window. "So I scrubbed
says, sobreparándose. I just realized I'm not a man today, but a lawyer yesterday. Even in my crawl gait debris my literary education.

9 His friends are surprised to find often rereading Kafka's books. "It's my Tallymen
says Luder. It spent sharpening the tip of my mind.

10-A quality that I envy is to achieve long-avoid arguments tell Luder.
I do not see why. Get into an argument is to admit in advance that your opponent may be right.

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hugs and handshakes

infamous What hands have not narrowed these other we press gleefully when we are introduced to someone? What

how many dead behind their backs have not covered those arms now pat a suspect ours with enthusiasm?

If we knew for sure, most likely reject you hard, and equally, both as the grip hug.

scary thought.

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Poet

To Shoot Angel Campos, in memorian .

would have turned 54 today.

Every poet worth his salt should bear at Machado at the time of his death ("These blue days and this sun of children ... ") , a couple of lines crumpled in the seat of memory.

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Island Siltolá, No. 4

With the exquisite taste and care that he usually does his readers, and belongs to the period from January to April, has just appeared on No.4 Island Siltolá (Poetry Magazine).

Announced unpublished poem of Juan Ramón Jiménez (with presentation of the study and by Rocío Fernández Berrocal, a specialist in the work of poet Moguer) amen poems and texts by Mary M. Bautista, Diego Ropero-Regidor, Jesus Hilario Tundidor, Javier Pérez Wali, Jose Luis Mora, Álvaro Valverde, Naomi Infantes, Pedro Sevilla, Jesus Cotta, Fernando López de Artieta, José Luis de la Cuesta, José María Moreno Carrascal, Juan Vico, Eduardo Moga, Rafael Ortiz and Luis Juarez Filipe Parrado (translation of Jesus Jiménez Domínguez).

In point of find reviews and comments to Olga Bernad, Romano Juan Antonio González, Miguel Ángel Lama, Javier de Navascués, Juan Manuel Macías, Julio Ariza, Elena Almeda and Ildefonso Coca Mérida.

An illustrious and varied cast.

Now you can get it responsible because it is not to be missed.

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Red

Red

in the flower of the hibiscus,
in light of the eye of the tiger,
in the coldness of rubies,
in shame of the child to ridicule,
in the trembling of the skylights,
in the rubble from the demolition,
in the voices of the sopranos,
up in the blood of the dispossessed.

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Andenes

The station platforms, solitary by night, always have an air of spy movie in black and white.
And never mind if the train, coming early in the morning, clouds of steam released from braking squeaks.

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Maturity

As I have a birthday (faster and faster, it seems incredible how time flies), I'm stripped of adjectives, targets, reduction to the simple goal seems to be the I write, what I am.
Sure, they get it is another matter.


Perhaps what we call maturity is not more than that age where you learn, and you resign yourself to accept yourself as you are, how bad you weigh.


You reach an age where it is better not to have dealings with the promises, because just when they say them to others or you yourself the offer, anyway, are converted as if by magic double-edged sword with which it is impossible not to cut in vacuous purposes you know for sure that you will not be able to accomplish.

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expect

I remember the many corners that held my back waiting for appointments that were not fulfilled.

Image: Bill Brandt

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Owl black

No closer look dangerous than the black owl, which paralyzes its victims and draws from them the strength needed for life. Throughout the night, the watchful eye of the owl is fixed on its prey and not let go until, exhausted and empty cigar becomes a handful of ashes on the ground. It is not, however, the power of a Gorgon, since the only task of this owl is accustomed to their prey to death, stripped of all the fighting instinct, seeking his sudden and premature aging. Thus, confident of his powers, the owl is growing and fattening makes their accounts with the dawn and slow aging, and it happens that your eyes are exhausted, are shrinking, injecting blood as injected blood in the eyes of an elderly or sick. Until one day left to kill, but the people, after long hesitation calling without forgiveness or prudence, is only the blindness of the old and tired, like a second skin.

Jordi Doce

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Sabato

"Man is the animal most sinister."

not remember when or where I read this quote from Sabato, but could have been written or spoken well about 1983, when at the request of Raul Alfonsin, the first president of Argentina democratically elected years after the horror of the murderous military junta, presided over the CONADEP (National Commission on Disappeared People), whose report, NEVER AGAIN, which gathered and detailed many of the atrocities committed by soldiers against their countrymen, served to prosecute many of them. Sabato

died on April 30. His legacy is his writing ( The tunnel , Report blind, On Heroes and Tombs, Tango; discussion and password, Men and gears, Before order ...) and his painting, which also devoted much of its existence.
But also, and above all, its moral and civic defense of human dignity.

I remember Ernesto Sabato down to hell.

image illustrating this post takes one of my notebooks over twenty years.
His stance dejected, thoughtful, is, I think, in line with the sentences of both the beginning and the end of it.

never (Report Conadep )

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Piglet

Piglet. s. In cuisine, exquisite resulting from roasting over a wood fire, seasoned with a little oil and a pinch of herb salt to taste, a recent breeding, not yet weaned pig pig.
golden brown outside and juicy on the inside, that's the point. Fig
: giant bed.

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2 poetic

Poetics in haiku poet translates




the dark silence of the unsaid.

emc

stolen Poetics

Lázaro Santana "I write poems, not to cover myself with glory, but to shit that creeps not cover me."

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medical reports (pa kill, come on)

some time ago, I received in my email these "reports" and then transcribe. I laughed for a while, between amazement and horror.

Antonio del Camino, knowing my weakness for these things absurd thought I'd like to read. And hit full.

In his blog, Word and gloom (it is accessed by clicking on its name) has the entire month of April by publishing a splendid account of his recent trip to Portugal.

So he has the "blame" for this post and dedicate it.

Thanks, Antonio.

medical reports

- had experienced no rigors or spasms, but her husband said that yesterday was very hot in bed.

- The patient has no history of suicides.

- The patient refused autopsy.

- The patient says he feels a strong penile pain that extends to the feet.

- slipped on the ice and his legs were in opposite directions in early December.

- for when he entered, his heart had stopped beating and he was much better.

- the second day the knee was better and the third, had completely disappeared.

- Patient has left white blood cells at another hospital.

- The patient has chest pain if she lies to the left for a year.

- The patient is depressed since she began visiting in 1983.

- The patient's medical history was insignificant, with weight gain of one kilo over the past three days.

- The patient does not stop mourn. Also appears to be depressed.

- The patient left the hospital feeling much better except for her original complaints.

- Subject man of sixty-nine, but healthy-looking decrepit. Active mental state, but forgetful.

- The patient expired on the floor quietly.

- The skin was moist and dry.

- The baby came out, cut the umbilical cord and was handed to the pediatrician, who breathed and cried immediately.

- rectal examination revealed a thyroid size normal.

- He said he had been constipated for most of his life, until 1989, when she divorced.

- The patient has headaches, occasional, constant, infrequent.

- The patient was in good health until his airplane ran out of fuel and crashed.

- The genital examination was negative, except for the right foot.

- The patient lives with his mother, father and pet turtle, attended training classes three times a week.

There is that.

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Primo Yolanda Soler Onís

I remember a picture of Primo Levi in chemistry lab (white beard, peak jersey, leather apron) where he guessed was death in the face.

Primo Levi
Image: Bernard Gotfryd

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Levi

Tonight, starting at 20.00 pm in the auditorium of MEIAC of Badajoz, and in classroom activities Literaria Díez-Canedo, Yolanda Soler Onís (Comillas, 1964) will read his poems open to the public. I look forward to seeing her

; Yolanda is my friend since we met a few years ago. We see little of it is true, is that it does not stop: she has been director of Instituto Cervantes in Manchester and Leeds and now, a few months ago, heads the Warsaw-but the mutual affection has not waned one iota from then.

I'll have the honor and pleasure to be your host in this reading: the directors of the Hall, in a fit of temporary insanity, time has had the outlandish idea that I could do well.
try not detract.

As beautiful porch to that act, I can not resist sharing with you a poem unpublished Yolanda sent me a few days ago on 14 dated April is the first "Polish Poem"


If you had said we were not alone in the ghetto heaven

I would have spoken of the kittens
that
legs bound by dying in your dreams.
I know because
veiled the entire night wrapped in one of those hugs that do not touch
and because there was no Polish Jiddish or knaanic

our own language but in a strange code
what your lips murmured.

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Drinker

In my long and frequent, and often exhausting days also anchored to the desks of the most diverse slums, I could observe and catalog different types of drinkers, which I put some examples: the punch drinker is usually very friendly and talkative person, the gin is, usually harsh and disrespectful, the whiskey, damn presumptuous and

... At some point in my career as dipsomaniac I was, surely, the sum of them all, because I never averse to any distillate.

But as I do not drink, now I have not the faintest idea of \u200b\u200bhow I really am.

In any case, just in case, let me give you some advice: not provoke me.

I've never had good drink.

Image: The crouching - Manuel Alvarez Bravo

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one more (notebooks 5)

not fully awaken

let the dream still burning

in the early morning cobwebs

the cold (the dew)

just left on the jacaranda

hjas

this

balcony overlooking the street some

God knows

music. Crepe qie yes also surprised its makers that have gone.

Remains, that if all that aroused in us, with us, your claim, sometimes angry. Their are over.

blessed Souls, kneel I

Tanning the skin or filaments of the rope taut. Everything on hold. Or disclosure.

No more.

This morning, the warm sun of February we still illuminating, giving peace. February

and gives us some absences

(will be called)

daily

or final (depending on the damage, the edge of the knife that we snatched)

Perfect picture of reality,

we know can not be seen more

with pins with tweezers.

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cuadrenos (four)

in late October, the dream ended with the first meet someone, imagining Midori. Recognized me and told me that if I liked walking fodongo. She was very elegant, very well groomed.

In another dream, once again, Lourdes and Jorge again. An unknown location, and family. As always.

Before the weekend, elusive, slippery. Little to do, in fact (or complain) because, well, the emotional and intellectual gap, there was the promise of Serrat.
100x100: reality, embrace, the warmth of intimacy.

Awakening 35 ans sentence with a life, a life. 35 years is a lifetime. Or, the lives that fit in that span.

So it should start the week.

Fandango well.

The return of a friend.

replays on Wednesday.

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notebooks (three)

begin
veintici8nco years later, this newspaper
What is missing, like the dreams that we did not, or not even reach to rebuild, remember, it is up to us. It is not matter for now.
matter, in any case, what might germinate, as in a fist, what remains, cereal, nourish the blood which is flooding and defining, with their beat, with its presecia, with their ink, viscose continuity, soft agony.
Every morning you open the book of things passed and the unprecedented circumstances, despite the usual, rituals and endless repetitions of the im age of the water hitting your face, or the effervescent need the touch of the fibers on the body, sometimes naked, after a steamy encounter with crystal clarity, or the most stubborn dark joy, the sweat, the mine site.
What we find, then, is the perfect ineditez or ineditud, our own fault of our own excess. No more and no less is required to continue saying so I move, or so I think about the other, which accompanies my voice, my circunsancia, my emptiness.
The first time, then I left, for all the bed-tent, custom, repeated ad nauseam, of being a child, tied to nothing but anecdotal twinkling eyes, being in a rhythm, sleep pat . And meet, suddenly, there is a fire cn a daily basis to renew, together, together, because that would be and then and thereafter, you and I, accompanied the body, the extensiveness of me with accurate your mirror, a you with my surroundings, my adjective, my presence a'm in front of your multi, multicolored, changing flame indispensable for all the days that follow, we are missing, fill us.
To want or not, have you near, do in the company, the duration of sleep or the reality of the projects.
Already have a home to feed, clothe and multiple walls, the house we'd keep for a few months, the incandescent, unique, first time for everyday memories. Those who gave us the choice of perspectives (the side where you sleep, the space being left your stuff, and the vast enormity of the equipment, and the sounds and the fabrics and the vials of tastes, scents, preferences, remnants, which populate stage, adventure, the bellicose truce, of a life together, for the pleasure of being. corroborating promises made (and made) weeks, months, when you said, advocating that we were not bored nucna (rather than us always going to have fun.)
March 14, 2010

write

wish I could say the last time. Stripped of ghosts that follow others. Perhaps concentrate on the woman who heads a black and white film, while running the sixties, or siquietra before his eyes, but against the cigarette smoke distillate by pressing and holding, complacent, as we look and give the reason for a reflection. Perhaps

to write a world or to uncover precise, the evocation of a moment. That's what it would be, nothing more, the fruition of the word. Evoke

perhaps places around the stubborn dream or waking. Picking while sipping the right words to say some of his staunch stubbornness, his willingness to blue things difficult. As a fresh

the wall over the question of small circumstances of one's life, connected on huge tapestries or bulky carpet dotted with what each day gives us, in tabular form musical sound or flashing (the wealth or the single market pass to the façades in a humid afternoon, TANC backplate of the house of one) all mixed with the brightness of the corner that intersects with the white of a wall exist.

not asking for anything other pens award-winning air. Restricted to having one's own reach. And give gloss or wallow in their opacity. To this are the words that one must wrest from the palette that holds in one hand while dressed with the imagination that must go like this picture reveals that draws indelible piano runs that tape before breaking into the voice hearing harmonious murmurs phrases in a language that could be wood, and water; fortress protecting a port or simple boat, passing the night oscillating reflecting on its rough surface, a white disk, almost perfect.

Nothing more, while dreaming. Perhaps the placidity of the meeting, so like the caress of love cial under a translucent lamp, mute, whose filament melts and covers rolling blanket of pits, the bodies delivered to each other, to transform the essence in sighs and groans, White and whispery, string vociferous crowd awakened by sounds plaintive qeu timber containing them and guide them.

Mustitar the end, the calm of the notes building a cathedral to the sounds that emerge from those two bodies exhausted, sweaty, confused, who keep their pain for other watches, other lienzoa.

Undated apparent.

(footnote: weird things happened: the original text, and restored, erased, then add the snap undated; and ad hoc search for two images). was, for now, for some, send an email with the addition of texts that can be combined and printed with these images. just trying to recover a moment of clarity to accompany other writing lulls. was, then, in March 1910, look no more, 2011)


eleven twenty things

Soft Cervix During Menses

notebooks (two)

originally

is a notebook of psychology, nothing to do with me

¿4?

Wednesday recounting the most memorable moments of the week, two of them memorable and one of them, say, unpleasant, at least on the surface.

verdfadera Friendship, first and foremost, as a sum of cash ointment affections and pains of the soul. Rediscover a place and a provision almost forgotten. The time, in return, to help the Olovo and as a force that can do everything to restore, strengthen. Trees ueden be forgotten bosu Love from the work and love in another stage of life.and the pleasure of sharing the mood, the discoveries, the most guarded.

And what seems in the end, the two experiences: the widespread embrace (my family is your family) continuity of affection forever symbolized by the open arms of grateful and smiling father's friend.

The word resume (rzuma) memories and experiences as usual, as love kitchen work, for the sake of love a grandchild. And the vigorous environment of food, loving and careful preparation.

the end, or at the beginning. Or rather, ennmedio of these two auspicious moments, bittersweet gangrene misunderstandings or just deaf ears. A week of anxiety about the results, say, organic, uncertain of finding a huge pàranmo hisotria in a country lelno, we DICD, resource, where patches of oil have been drawing their destination. The urgent call, urgent, on Saturday night. Reminder: Tenenmos morning we go to talk. Morning before we left, at eight o'clock .. L to senación end of a slope, which reopened on Thursday, mid-morning. Interestingly, from Cuba.

In any case, Wednesday is the summary of what would be, say, a dramatic scene in a theatrical canvas that still does not light, not paint. Is the slope (one week before) O'Neill. Her strength, her inciciva and painful look at the facts of a past life ...

not know then as a header, which way to go and what kind

path taken

not know, even if you follow along, or stop at the numbers, or forced cigos points of continuity, or desaqzón. Not knowing whether to invade multiform rocks uneasiness, or simply require the sky, sky, the likely ways to save the night the day, try.

emergency will end soon, I have heard many times, with many, different emphasis. But the wait continues. HNO

COPM have any idea of \u200b\u200bwhen, how much will have been the last out.

feel the pain every day, nwhile notes with reluctance, the exit row in a supermarket with sixteen possibilities (cases) and only five actually funcioanndo. No further. Never did need more, no more are needed, though Friday, although it has been two weeks, although there is some celebration in door.

The only recent lesson has to do with the spell (so to speak) of English words (spelling)

Being in doubt until the stories are recreated, not invent swe.

create, think, ystatar something that really trivial, is another, different.

Fill the spaces, giving consistency

Abrrlos

sleep to wakefulness

Opening

Willing to seguirhyasta the end, until the last breath

think that the other might be interested

other parameters have the valve open as possible and flood the lake defined (the innermost)

Out of the doubt with a bit sóplño desestabilizadoer air on a bag, left, brown paper

The brown paper in contraposiciónm to sleep pl'stico sububano of American Beauty. History in the making, sendo kidding with pain and blind impotencia.l

What we aspire to Sodom and

In the first instance, to understand at once what he said with a weak solution, just outlined by the very short

lucid moments

Tomorrow will be more tomorrow morning

always toujours demain

And nothing else. Just a notion, a muddy knowledge, or awareness. Let

possibilities to reach its peak of elasticity, last hopes of

Let the white powder, innocuous, drop, leave your

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now that February
us several absences are also

recurrence of a notebook recovered somewhat recovered another notebook

lost others, finally edging



the geocenter and geology
of his song
that no more than muffled condition

a geography, a genealogy
articulated above the dense string
stone, quartz
the magnificent shadow of light geofonía
intense, immense geolatría

Opening the notebook

a. The log
Country Journal
The second visit was vital. Or say, final: it was like the wine on the back of Vinicius de Moraes: pure honey. Or almost. He lacked that degree. That was what was proposed.
One Landscapes. Two
. The secret caves
(btw, that picture was called Nana and the Wolf, and was painted in 1996)
Three. One avenue, forest, shivering with a piano: the background music as relief.
What else? Perhaps a maddening
intoxicating.
A dance. A surprise. Anything, as long as the rate or give ease to the sound cumbia, that was also a serious matter, of canon and everything: "The rumba is culture," he said. Like everything and nothing could be culture. And it was not (n).

b. -
Ahote, at the end of September the ninth century atrocious, a brand to stay

The eight square, always imperfect, of a paper napkin while one expects a coffee arinático
air
The parenthesis contains references to another reality, another time, another (very different) folly. Just like now, when one notes that psychology is a loaded arna white water. The continuity of the books, now that one can not let go, for the first time in a pen some
tienpo
Upon his return, he wrote on a napkin from the coffee that did not:

c. - Letting
traces remain, and germinate

For this to have a sense

d. -
yesterday left behind. Today, despite the cold air, we should take forward. September and summer are not a memory, or a reference. What was left open, still pending. The holes should continue to fill. Tenders and intentions prevail. Like a worn formula, the numbers are repeated after: an hour, two weeks, Vaez etena from the first, second, aromatic, a discovery, infinity, permeating everything.

And all that was flailing, was arranged on the table


Towards the end of the book

1.-It is like saying


2.-and do not ask for help

3 .-
zero and ininito
the poet says, glaring,
before the ruins of the wall Berlin
page four hundred and seven
memory
(silence of the moon)

when

...

4 .-
not know, finally, what to do

5 .-
Autumn Leaves gives us
In fact, the few phrases that disaster artiulan
A cracked wall
Seconds smoke hours after's of the intoxication of the aromas
always giving time to stumble
monotonous ritual celebration of the flesh
Eager illusion of a well-planted field
Nothing to anyone in a cold, cunning
only a few puffs to accompany the repetition of the offense that seems to cave

I Want A Motorless Vacuum

City of Buenos Aires introduction

la ciudad de Buenos Aires fue fundada por primera vez por PEDRO DE MENDOZA en 1536 y en 1580 fue nuevamente fundada por JUAN DE GARAY con el nombre de Santisima trinidad y puerto de Santa Maria de Buenos Aires.
La capital federal posee una avenida de circunvalacion (la avenidad general paz) y ademas posee dos avenidas que se denominan la mas ancha y mas larga estas son la av. 9 de Julio y la av. Rivadavia.