dimanche 24 juillet 2016

Cutcutcut attachments

pour des cœurs légers...

Un regard de Lakmé

Todo es tuyo y las estrellas

Mercedes Sosa

vendredi 1 janvier 2016

Happy, healthy, peaceful 2016!!!

Ode to a stonemason

“Have you also learned that secret from the river; that there is no such thing as time?" That the river is everywhere at the same time, at the source and at the mouth, at the waterfall, at the ferry, at the current, in the ocean and in the mountains, everywhere and that the present only exists for it, not the shadow of the past nor the shadow of the future.”

― Hermann Hesse, Siddhartha

(Then, if I make a river of wishes for happiness, health and peace today in this 2016 present, will they be timeless and present every day of every year?)

mardi 30 juin 2015

Sin título

muchos presentes mirando una rueda de luz

Pico Oriental

- caminando -

'Les idées ressemblent à des constellations célestes, 
on les distingue mieux en clignant des yeux...'

Walter Benjamin

Ni idea

mardi 22 juillet 2014

Bubbles without water, air without rain, fondness again

para el espejo de los sueños rotos


I ain’t got no home, ain’t got no shoes, ain’t got no money, ain’t got no class,
ain’t got no friends, ain’t got no schooling, ain’t got no work, ain’t got no job,
ain’t got no money, no place to stay.

Ain’t got no father, ain’t got no mother, ain’t got no children, ain’t got no sisters or brothers.  
Ain’t got no earth, ain’t got no faith, ain’t got no church, 
ain’t got no god, ain’t got no love.
Ain’t got no wine, no cigarettes  
no clothes, no country, no class,  
no schoolin, no friends, no nothin.  
Ain’t got no god.
Ain’t that one more…
Ain’t got no earth, no water, no food, no home, 

I said I ain’t got no clothes, no job, no nothin.
Ain’t got long to live, and I ain’t got no love.
Oh, but what have I got? Ah, but what have I got?

Let me tell you what I’ve got, cause nobody gonna take it away, 
unless I want em.

I got my hair on my head, my brains and my ears, my eyes, my nose, and my mouth. 
I’ve got my smile.

I got my tongue, my chin, my neck, my boobies, my heart, my soul and my back. I’ve got my sex.
I got my arms, my hands, my fingers, my legs, my feet, my toes, and my liver. Got my blood.
I’ve got life, I’ve got laughs, I’ve got headaches and toothaches and bad times too, like you.
I got my hair, my head, my brains, my ears, my eyes, my nose and my mouth.  
I got my smile… 
and its my smile.
I got my tongue, my chin, my neck and my boobies!  

My heart, my soul and my back. I’ve got my sex, yeah!
I got my arms, my hands, my fingers, my legs, got my feet, my toes and my liver. Got my blood.
I’ve got the life, I’ve got my freedom
and my heart, I’ve got the life!

Ain't Got No... I've Got Life 

Nina Simone (at the Harlem Cultural Festival 1969)

The Flying Edge

lundi 31 mars 2014

Where are the screen chickens?

for freedom, bells and bridges

Cowgirls have got it loose

Falling down on my rubber knees
The head of the drowsy elf
Is staggering with arrows
And gypsy songs call for wild
And spells in the night gloom

Say I’ll be all right

Falling again in the turmoil
The eyes close in the leaves
Of my unloose roots
And I’ll ride here again
And the yell will shoot

Soon I’ll be all right


Target of 
Screen Chickens

Picture being broken

with a heart

in concrete light

mercredi 20 février 2013

Lo que pasó, pasó

for lions in their dens

Have I a body or have I none?
Am I who I am or am I not?
Pondering these questions,
I sit leaning against the cliff while the
years go by,
Till the green grass grows between my feet
And the red dust settles on my head,
And the men of the world, thinking me dead,
Come with offerings of wine and fruit
to lay by my corpse.

My mind is like the autumn moon
Shining clean and clear in the green pool.
No, that is not a good comparison.
Tell me, how shall I explain?

In the late sun I descended the western hill,
Light streaming over the grass and trees,
Till I came to a dark and gloomy place
Where pines and creepers grew thick together.
Within crouched many tigers;
When they saw me, their fur stood on end.
Not so much as a knife in my hand,
Did I not gasp with fear?

So Han-shan writes you these words,
These words no one will believe.
Honey is sweet; men love the taste.
Medicine is bitter and hard to swallow.
What soothes the feelings brings contentment,
What opposes the will calls forth anger.
Yet I ask you to look at the wooden puppets,
Worn out by their moment of play on the stage!

Do you have the poems of Han-shan in your house?
They're better for you than sutra-reading!
Write them out and paste them on a screen
Where you can glance them over from time to time. 

Cold Mountain


- sin tu permiso -

nadie te puede comer el corazón

ya sabes


nadie te va a comer el corazón

 nadie te va a enjaular

ya sabes que es

lo que pasó


De l'éther à la terre : 

un pas, tout bas, vers la sortie s'achemine.


dimanche 10 juin 2012

Shaking Hands with Aporia

In Between

Todo es puerta
                       todo es puente
ahora marchamos en la otra orilla
Mira abajo correr el rio de los astros
se abrazan y separan vuelven a juntarse
hablan entre ellos un lenguaje de incendios
sus luchas sus amores
son la creación y la destrucción de los mundos
La noche se abre
                              mano inmensa
constelación de signos
escritura silencio que canta
siglos generaciones eras
sílabas que alguien dice
palabras que alguien oye
pórticos de pilares transparentes
ecos llamadas señas laberintos

Octavio Paz (Salamandra, «Noche en claro»)