Pumpkin Season has Finally Arrived!!!

VIVA MÉXICO!

México Lindo y Querido!

Foto por Gaston Saldana

Vacante

Autor : Matthias Müller

Las ciudades viejas… se están desvaneciendo.

Opacadas por su historia, las ciudades viejas languidecen, se desintegran y desaparecen.

El año en el que nací se construyó una ciudad nueva, una ciudad blanca para el futuro, una ciudad que vino de la nada.

Cuando nací, empezaron a construir una ciudad en medio de la sabana. Haciendo una cruz en el polvo rojo, hicieron planes para el mundo nuevo.

Los hombres pusieron una cruz dentro de la arena roja, dentro del polvo amorfo que cubre la tierra. La ciudad descansa su figura lejos del desierto.

En el día de inauguración, una ciudad reluciente es revelada, con edificios que ya no están anclados a la tierra. Un lugar no para ahora, pero para el futuro, una ciudad modelo para el hombre  anticipado y que va a nacer.

"Puedes terminar tu vuelo cuando quieras", me dijeron, "pero llegarás a otra ciudad absolutamente igual. Sólo el nombre del aeropuerto cambia."

El "hombre nuevo" no ha llegado todavía.

Esa noche yo soñé que la ciudad estaba vacía de gente otra vez, abandonada antes de que fuera habitada.

…los habitantes anónimos, viniendo de regiones diferentes, de mundos diferentes.

Las ciudades se unen en un beso. Buscando a otros de su mismo tipo, llevan a ningún lugar.

Mi sombra --una de mis sombras-- se extiende enfrente de mí, luego se escurre debajo de mis pies y uniéndose a mí.

Deambulaba --perdido en el sueño de un desierto infinito.

Mejor hubiera  contado una historia diferente.

Me he convertido en vacío. Soy un extraño a los otros y a mí mismo y me rehúso a pretender que soy familiar o que tengo una historia pegada a mis talones. Soy una copia de carbón de mi forma. He sido tirado dentro de todo esto desde otro mundo y ya no puedo hablar tu lenguaje. Soy un extraño y me estoy moviendo.

El vacío está escondido debajo de una capa gruesa de señales. La ciudad repite sus señales para que pueda empezar a existir.

Todo lo que nos rodea corre hacia la desaparición. Nuestro breve momento es un flash, un destello arqueado que sirve para iluminar la cara de la muerte.

La ciudad se basta a sí misma…un escenario vacío que podría servirse a sí mismo sin actores.

Esta utopía obstinada de belleza se ha convertido en un museo, laboriosamente regimentado, conservando los restos de un sueño destruido hace mucho tiempo. El deseo de permanencia lo hizo un patrimonio intocable, un cadáver exquisito paralizado por rigor mortis.

La muerte es vista en público.

Todo lo que queda ahora es mudo.

Sólo mi chiflido rompe el silencio. Todo lo demás se mantiene callado.

Árboles y piedras son sólo lo que son.

La ciudad no cuenta su pasado, pero lo contiene, como las líneas de una mano, escritas en la esquina de las calles, las planicies, los campos vastos; cada segmento marcado en turno con rasguños y hendiduras.

Cae la noche.

Los edificios atraen los relámpagos.

Cae la noche. Las ventanas se encienden.

En la noche, poniendo tus oídos en el piso, a veces puedes oír una puerta azotarse.

Persuasion

I can listen no longer in silence. 

I must speak to you by such means as are within my reach. 

You pierce my soul. I am half agony, half hope. 

Tell me not that I am too late, that such precious feelings are gone for ever. 

I offer myself to you again with a heart even more your own than when you almost broke it, eight years and a half ago.

 Dare not say that man forgets sooner than woman, that his love has an earlier death. 

I have loved none but you. 

Unjust I may have been, weak and resentful I have been, but never inconstant. 

You alone have brought me to Bath.

 For you alone, I think and plan. 

Have you not seen this? 

Can you fail to have understood my wishes?

 I had not waited even these ten days, could I have read your feelings, as I think you must have penetrated mine. 

I can hardly write.

 I am every instant hearing something which overpowers me. 

You sink your voice, but I can distinguish the tones of that voice when they would be lost on others. Too good, too excellent creature! 

You do us justice, indeed. 

You do believe that there is true attachment and constancy among men.

 Believe it to be most fervent, most undeviating, in F. W. 

 I must go, uncertain of my fate; but I shall return hither, or follow your party, as soon as possible. 

A word, a look, will be enough to decide whether I enter your father's house this evening or never. 

― Jane Austen

Immortal Beloved

"Monday evening, 6th July.
You are suffering, you my dearest creature – only now do I realize that letters have to be posted very early, on Mondays – Thursdays – the only days when the mail is delivered to K. - you are suffering - Oh, wherever I am, you are with me, I talk to myself and to you[,] arrange [it] that I can live with you, what a life!!!! as it is!!!! without you – Pursued by the goodness of mankind here and there, the goodness that I wish to deserve as little as I deserve it. – Man’s humility towards man – this pains me – and when I consider myself in relation to the universe, what am I and what is the man who is called the greatest? – And yet, – therein lies the divine element in man. I weep when I think that you will probably not receive first news of me until Saturday. However as much as you love me - I love you even more deeply, but - but never hide yourself from me - Good night – as I am taking the baths I must go to bed. ⟨oh go with me, go with me⟩ Oh God - so near! so far! Is not our love a true edifice in Heaven - but also as firm as the firmament. –"

...only a passionate man like Beethoven was, could write that! :')

Unending Love

I seem to have loved you in numberless forms, numberless times...

In life after life, in age after age, forever.

My spellbound heart has made and remade the necklace of songs,

That you take as a gift, wear round your neck in your many forms,

In life after life, in age after age, forever.

Whenever I hear old chronicles of love, it's age old pain,

It's ancient tale of being apart or together.

As I stare on and on into the past, in the end you emerge,
Clad in the light of a pole-star, piercing the darkness of time.
You become an image of what is remembered forever.

You and I have floated here on the stream that brings from the fount.
At the heart of time, love of one for another.
We have played along side millions of lovers,
Shared in the same shy sweetness of meeting,
the distressful tears of farewell,
Old love but in shapes that renew and renew forever.

Today it is heaped at your feet, it has found its end in you

The love of all man's days both past and forever:

Universal joy, universal sorrow, universal life.

The memories of all loves merging with this one love of ours -

And the songs of every poet past and forever.

― Rabindranath Tagore, Selected Poems

There's a Storm Coming...

“Sometimes fate is like a small sandstorm that keeps changing directions. You change direction but the sandstorm chases you. You turn again, but the storm adjusts. Over and over you play this out, like some ominous dance with death just before dawn. Why? Because this storm isn't something that blew in from far away, something that has nothing to do with you. This storm is you. Something inside of you. So all you can do is give in to it, step right inside the storm, closing your eyes and plugging up your ears so the sand doesn't get in, and walk through it, step by step. There's no sun there, no moon, no direction, no sense of time. Just fine white sand swirling up into the sky like pulverized bones. That's the kind of sandstorm you need to imagine.

An you really will have to make it through that violent, metaphysical, symbolic storm. No matter how metaphysical or symbolic it might be, make no mistake about it: it will cut through flesh like a thousand razor blades. People will bleed there, and you will bleed too. Hot, red blood. You'll catch that blood in your hands, your own blood and the blood of others.

And once the storm is over you won't remember how you made it through, how you managed to survive. You won't even be sure, in fact, whether the storm is really over. But one thing is certain. When you come out of the storm you won't be the same person who walked in. That's what this storm's all about.”
― Haruki Murakami, Kafka on the Shore

Tragedy in Connecticut...

 More innocent victims...

I'll never understand why some people behave worse than some animals do... 

a lot of animals protect their own kin... 

 and we??? 

The worst of all are all those innocent lives lost today...

and all those who are left behind... grieving!!!

It's so unfair...

Prayers and love for everyone affected by this tragedy... 

and anyone suffering loss of any sort anywhere!

It Can't Rain All The Time

by Jane Siberry

We walked the narrow path,
beneath the smoking skies.
Sometimes you can barely tell the difference
between darkness and light.
Do you have faith
in what we believe?
The truest test is when we cannot,
when we cannot see.

I hear pounding feet in the,
in the streets below, and the,
and the women crying and the,
and the children know that there,
that there's something wrong,
and it's hard to belive that love will prevail.

Oh, when I'm lonely,
I lie awake at night
and I wish you were here.
I miss you.
Can you tell me
is there something more to belive in?
Or is this all there is?

Last night I had a dream.
You came into my room,
you took me into your arms.
Whispering and kissing me,
and telling me to still belive.
But then the emptiness of a burning sea against which we see
our darkest of sadness.

Until I felt safe and warm.
I fell asleep in your arms.
When I awoke I cried again for you were gone.
Oh, can you hear me?

It won't rain all the time
The sky won't fall forever.
And though the night seems long,
your tears won't fall, your tears won't fall,
your tears won't fall
forever.

Depression

You've been so long
Looking at the shadows
That you'll end up becoming
another one of them...

The sadness on your face
Someday will vanish,
But time is gold
And all that's good in your life will fade away...

You are wrapped up in a bubble
Of tragedy and doom,
And you'll remain stuck
Between fury, confusion and anxiety...

Happiness will remain hidden
As long as you're depressed
And when you try to reach it
You'll Find everything so dull!

- D Feline Oct.24.00-
 The Original

Black

Black, black, black
So is the atmosphere...
Dark and deadly,
Deceitful as an oasis in the desert ...
Invincible Spirit of time.

Black, black, black
So is the feeling...
Tragic and deep,
Eternal as the infinite universe ...
Terrible phantom of torment.

Black, black, black
So is the way...
Mysterious and unreal,
False as the clouds in the sky ...
Sinner demon from hell.

Black, black, black
So is suicide ...
Seductive and lethal
Traitor as rain in winter ...
Invisible Sylph of the Wind.

- D Feline '1999-
The Original

Those Eyes

One night... one more night...

Some Eyes... Just some eyes... 

The band playing, 

The people dancing... 

And those eyes... those eyes distracted you... 

The night consumed away... 

No more alcohol, 

No more nicotine... 

But those eyes... those eyes followed you... 

A day... just another day... 

The light turned into darkness... 

People praying, 

People laughing... 

And those eyes... those eyes hypnotized you... 

The darkness became torment... 

No more songs, 

No more temptations... 

But those eyes... those eyes enslaved you... 

- D Feline August 21'2002 -

The Original

Caledonia

by Dougie MacLean

I don't know if you can see
The changes that have come over me
In these last few days I've been afraid
That I might drift away
I've been telling old stories, singing songs
That make me think about where I've come from
That's the reason why I seem
So far away today

Let me tell you that I love you
That I think about you all the time
Caledonia, you're calling me, now I'm going home
But if I should become a stranger
Know that it would make me more than sad
Caledonia's been everything I've ever had

Now I have moved and I've kept on moving
Proved the points that I needed proving
Lost the friends that I needed losing
Found others on the way
I have kissed the fellas and left them crying
Stolen dreams, yes, there's no denying
I have traveled hard, sometimes with conscience flying
Somewhere with the wind

Now I'm sitting here before the fire
The empty room, the forest choir
The flames have cooled, don't get any higher
They've withered, now they've gone
But I'm steady thinking, my way is clear
And I know what I will do tomorrow
When hands have shaken, the kisses float
Then I will disappear

Caledonia's been everything I've ever had

Happy Sain't Andrews Day!

John McDermott version lyrics:

Let Italy boast of her gay gilded waters, Her vines and her bowers and her soft sunny skies, Her sons drinking love from the eyes of her daughters, Where freedom expires amid softness and sighs.

Scotland's blue mountains wild where hoary cliffs are piled,Towering in grandeur are dearer tae me,Land of the misty cloud land of the tempest loud,Land of the brave and proud land of the free.

Enthroned on the peak of her own highland mountains,The spirit of Scotia reigns fearless and free,Her green tartan waving o'er blue rock and fountain,And proudly she sings looking over the sea.

Here among my mountains wild I have serenely smiled, When armies and empires against me were hurled, Firm as my native rock I have withstood the shock, Of England, of Denmark, of Rome and the world.

But see how proudly her war steeds are prancing, Deep groves of steel trodden down in their path, The eyes of my sons like their bright swords are glancing, Triumphantly riding through ruin and death.

Bold hearts and nodding plumes wave o'er their bloody tombs, Deep-dyed in gore is the green tartan's wave, Shivering are the ranks of steel dire is the horseman's wheel, Victorious in battlefield Scotland the brave.

Bold hearts and nodding plumes wave o'er their bloody tombs, Deep-dyed in gore is the green tartan's wave, Shivering are the ranks of steel dire is the horseman's wheel, Victorious in battlefield Scotland the brave.

Labios Rotos (Broken Lips) by ZOE

Regalame tu corazón y dejame entrar
a ese lugar,  donde nacen las flores
donde nace el amor.

entregame tus labios rotos lo quiero besar,
los quiero curar, los voy a cuidar
con todo mi amor...
es raro el amor aaah es raro el amor aaah
que se te aparece cuando menos piensas.
es raro el amor aaah es raro el amor aaah
no importa la distancia, ni el tiempo ni la edad!

Moja el desierto de mi alma con tu mirar,
con tu tierna voz, con tu mano en mi mano
por la eternidad...

Y entregame esos labios rotos lo quiero besar,
los quiero curar, los voy a cuidar
con todo mi amor...

es raro el amor aaah es raro el amor aaah
que se te aparece cuando menos piensas. 

-----------------------------------------------------------

Give me your heart and let me in
to that place , where the flowers are born
where love is born.

Give me your broken lips I wanna kiss them,
I want to heal them, I will care for them
with all my love ...

love is rare aaah aaah love is rare
which appears when you least think.
love is rare aaah aaah love is rare
no matter the distance, the time or age!

Soak the desert of my soul with your look,
with your tender voice, with your hand in my hand
for eternity ...

And give me those broken lips i want to kiss them,
I want to heal them, I will care for them
with all my love ...

love is rare aaah aaah love is rare
which appears when you least think.

Happy International Men's Day!

Inaugurated in 1999

"It's easier to build strong children
than to repair broken men."
- Frederick Douglass

The image in the rareview mirror

What will become of me?
- you asked
...You'll be like an image
that fades away in the rareview mirror.
The image of  love
that once was mine alone.
...but in the end... an image
fading in the rareview mirror.

- D Feline 2000 -
 The Original

Caught in the Sun

by Course of Nature

You're my distance, destination of choice
I'd give anything just to hear your voice
I could have passed you on the street
Without saying a word
Most times, I miss the voice that goes unheard

What if I missed you
You got caught in the sun
What if I did something never to be enough

People everywhere how could I be sure
If it's you that I have been looking for
What would it take for me to be comfortable
With you, with me you're the chosen one

You are there for me
This I hope and pray
Will you wait for me
Or will I be too late this time

Guy Fawkes Night!

"Remember, remember, the 5th of November,

Gunpowder, treason and plot!"

Happy Bonfire Night

Not a man, but a wolf...

 

"He went on two legs, wore clothes and was a human being, 

but nevertheless he was in reality a wolf of the Steppes. 

He had learned a good deal . . . and was a fairly clever fellow. 

What he had not learned, however, was this: 

to find contentment in himself and his own life. 

The cause of this apparently was that 

at the bottom of his heart 

he knew all the time (or thought he knew) 

that he was in reality not a man, 

but a wolf of the Steppes."

 -Herman Hesse (Steppenwolf)