Matrioska

Empty sound.
It’s my little Russian doll
Lost and not found.

Round and round the garden
It’s my other Russian dolls
Walking over no ground.

Lonely soul.
It’s me wearing
my woody packing.

Mi Cuerpo es una celda

Acabo de terminar de leer la compilación que hizo Alberto Fuguet de escritos de Andres Caicedo para formar una autobiografia. Libro duro y deprimente, ese pobre Caicedo era un verdadero fragilino.

Casi un año antes de tener éxito en quitarse la vida con 60 pastillas de Seconal, escribió esto:

No puede ser que sufra tanto
no puede ser que los días sean así de polvo
no puede ser que la muerte llegue así de rápido
que los recuerdos sean plomo derretido
en estos ojos blandos
que los mitos se derrumben
como soplar casas hechas de paja
no puede ser que día tras día
no puede ser que sufra tanto
no puede ser que los días
no puede ser que la muerte
no puede ser que los recuerdos
en estos ojos blandos
que los mitos
que dia tras día
no puede ser que sufra tanto.

Ageing

What a relief to see that the grey is taking over
-that’s only half a lie-

It’s all in my head
Not elsewhere
It’s happening up there

The experts say it’s only a state of mind
I say it’s my own white roof movement
and it keeps me cool too.

I am not in a hurry
to lock my self behind Bars anymore.
I don’t have the duty
to punish my bones with whisky and more

I don’t go out wearing vintage skirts
I don’t like to die my hair
I don’t want to trap myself in cheap beauty products
-that’s a whole lie-

I’ll keep my greys.

Un arbol de baldes

Esto me lo encontre en Durdle Door un sitio impresionante.
Con los baldes que produce este arbol se fabrican castillos de arena.

Why Obama

I am not American, I am not 100% immigrant. I am a visitor in England which is not the same but similar. Apologies for the inconveniences that this may cause. CLICK BBC/iPlayer

CALL ME A THIEF

The most difficult thing is the decision to act, the rest is merely tenacity. The fears are paper tigers. You can do anything you decide to do. You can act to change and control your life; and the procedure, the process is its own reward.

Amelia Earhart posted by ROO last year.

And "Hope is that thing with feathers" or something very similar by Woody Allen and me.

london

Yes it’s grey
It’s old and cold.

It’s crowded
And what you see are fancy dresses
crossing bridges.


Wilde was a local at the corner pub and like him
“I have nothing to declare except my genius”

Spring is slightly different from winter
And summer from spring.
The fall is nutty on its red dress.

It’s cold and windy. Less windy or less cold.
The sun is slow, the buses as well
It’s the place where I could become
But that is yet to happen.

There are gardens all around
And most of the time my pocket is just with a pound.

It’s London where I live now.