Friday, February 1, 2013
Boquete, Panama (January 2013)
I'm sitting on a big rock by the river. The wind is a strong steady force that whistles through the trees and carries my hair and thoughts in all directions. The sun beats gently onto my back like the softest drum in the distance. Clouds race past in a hurry to cross the sky, constantly heading to nowhere in particular. All is loud and peaceful at once, this town may do with us what it will. We are not here to tell the wind which way to blow. I pray only that we are carried safely upon its tail. Le vent nous portera...ahora y siempre
Wednesday, April 4, 2012
Tuesday, February 14, 2012
Wednesday, February 8, 2012
Beleza
What is it that draws me to you so?
I am intrigued, this much is true. But why do you insist on infiltrating my subconscious? Why do I want your story so much to be mine?
I am moved, indeed it is true. You wouldn't care if I was here or there, yet I need to be a part of you in some way.
My story is my own. My heart beats with the drums of truth. So play, and I'll play mine. And if it happens that we become one, I make no assumptions that mine is the only heart that has ever met your palm.
Let the drums of life lead us where they may. From heart to palm we communicate as one.
I am intrigued, this much is true. But why do you insist on infiltrating my subconscious? Why do I want your story so much to be mine?
I am moved, indeed it is true. You wouldn't care if I was here or there, yet I need to be a part of you in some way.
My story is my own. My heart beats with the drums of truth. So play, and I'll play mine. And if it happens that we become one, I make no assumptions that mine is the only heart that has ever met your palm.
Let the drums of life lead us where they may. From heart to palm we communicate as one.
Friday, November 11, 2011
Stop Beating Students
Me Gustan Los Estudiantes
Que vivan los estudiantes,jardín de nuestra alegría,
son aves que no se asustan
de animal ni policía.
Y no le asustan las balas
ni el ladrar de la jauría.
Caramba y zamba la cosa,
qué viva la astronomía!
Me gustan los estudiantes
que rugen como los vientos
cuando les meten al oído
sotanas y regimientos.
Pajarillos libertarios
igual que los elementos.
Caramba y zamba la cosa,
qué vivan los experimentos!
Me gustan los estudiantes
porque levantan el pecho
cuando les dicen harina
sabiéndose que es afrecho.
Y no hacen el sordomudo
cuando se presente el hecho.
Caramba y zamba la cosa,
el código del derecho!
Me gustan los estudiantes
porque son la levadura
del pan que saldrá del horno
con toda su sabrosura.
Para la boca del pobre
que come con amargura.
Caramba y zamba la cosa,
viva la literatura!
Me gustan los estudiantes
que marchan sobre las ruinas,
con las banderas en alto
pa’ toda la estudiantina.
Son químicos y doctores,
cirujanos y dentistas.
Caramba y zamba la cosa,
vivan los especialistas!
Me gustan los estudiantes
que con muy clara elocuencia
a la bolsa negra sacra
le bajó las indulgencias.
Porque, hasta cuándo nos dura
señores, la penitencia.
Caramba y zamba la cosa,
qué viva toda la ciencia!
Caramba y zamba la cosa,
qué viva toda la ciencia!
Tuesday, October 11, 2011
Monday, August 29, 2011
My Mind
If you want somebody who keeps what is on their mind to themselves, keep looking. It isn't me and it will never be. Keep looking.
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