All the outfits out
The good edge
Right before twenty one and over
Hardly under due to the repression
Or...
Good jackets and good shoes
The standing against a pole
Or two or any
Many sun glasses
Colorful shirts
Good hight
Smile for marketing
Who?
Endless walk
Charming hips
Pretty walk
Stinky face
International whore
Local beauty
Words that match
Irreplaceable fashion
Forget yourself
Lets be
What ?
Your eyes
Cheap accessories
Lies of them
Hugs of freedom
While the speech of the new black
New ah ?
Down there
Stairs of concrete
Plastic bags stuck on liquid heaven
Smiling to us
Our children using them
We being the witness
And the souls like in the forties
Weak and tumbling towards the future
Repeating and howling fear
Small bodies
These we carry
Carry on the song dictated
Carry on like a mule
There you went
Here we are
Thanks to you
The past
Thanks to me the present
Now what...
by The Shortfellow
23/09/12
Selection of Poetry, Essays on Art culture and politics as well free writing about the vision of life by The Shortfellow
Saturday, September 22, 2012
Lights are still
Spots of darkness finding
Tide jeans on some kind of
Little words
My thoughts
Long legs
Stonewall
A city of transformers
My last name
Madonna singing
Dealers ringing
Though night at the time
Sweet times tonight
My face
Your turn for looking
My words using you
Pink hair
No dick in here
Space time and stress
We
Who is looking ?
Me
And you as always
The boring spectator...
by The Shortfellow
23/08/12
Spots of darkness finding
Tide jeans on some kind of
Little words
My thoughts
Long legs
Stonewall
A city of transformers
My last name
Madonna singing
Dealers ringing
Though night at the time
Sweet times tonight
My face
Your turn for looking
My words using you
Pink hair
No dick in here
Space time and stress
We
Who is looking ?
Me
And you as always
The boring spectator...
by The Shortfellow
23/08/12
Friday, September 14, 2012
Small times ( nightly )
We can only hold
It
For
So
Long
And travel the night
While the
Signing
Of
A
Whale
Yes
We cannot
Hear it
Our heart
Still
Like
In a
Spasm
Slowly
The
Name
Of
A
Singer
Is
Not
Enough
How the water
At
Some
Point frozen
Warm
Quite
Like
The juicy
Liquid from
The heart of a Maguey
Here we
And talking great
Just for
Long or short
Fools
Siblings of the night
How the gods find it ?
How we did
Indeed
There is a chance
The shine of
Life
Walking towards
Us.
by The Shortfellow
13/09/12
It
For
So
Long
And travel the night
While the
Signing
Of
A
Whale
Yes
We cannot
Hear it
Our heart
Still
Like
In a
Spasm
Slowly
The
Name
Of
A
Singer
Is
Not
Enough
How the water
At
Some
Point frozen
Warm
Quite
Like
The juicy
Liquid from
The heart of a Maguey
Here we
And talking great
Just for
Long or short
Fools
Siblings of the night
How the gods find it ?
How we did
Indeed
There is a chance
The shine of
Life
Walking towards
Us.
by The Shortfellow
13/09/12
Wednesday, September 12, 2012
Dream # 1-A
The other night I dream of my sister
she was in some kind of jungle
sitting on lotus position next to her was Jenifer Nugent and a third person, another member of my family but to be true with what I recall this third person keep changing during my whole dream sometimes one of my brothers sometime my uncle and sometime my sister and so and so. Everybody had their eyes closed but I was able to communicate with my sister telepathically she was happy and she was explaining me every thing in there the color of the flowers the singing of the birds but there were no sounds or noise interruptions, her voice was mature than when she was in her human body we knew I was in another place in paradise I think at the same time I was having articulated conversations with the other members of my family I was a sort of filter for her to perceive them and communicate with them. I was perplex and so excited when I realized the place where the time and place where life begin they were not human they were like Gorillas, after a while they move like it and move in group I was looking from the beginning from a train like a upper rail road a train above the whole landscape and the picture was like a Vincent van Gogh painting thats how I knew that was Magali for real because she love his work and his life, She make sure to tell me every second in a way or another that she was pleased to be there, at some point I was walking as a part of the group and the third person suddenly was Mica Jenifers's daughter I was understanding they were like an impression of my aunt Rosa Magali's mother when she was a child and she want me to understand it like that,I did.
We start walking on a narrow track cover by really green plants and big trees I was taking by the beauty and my sister with a smile and holding my hands told me with a hug into my waist as she always did when we did not saw me for a while in Mexico City, Hermano te quiero pero no te pongas triste dile a mi herma que la extranho pero que yo los espero aqui donde todos vamos a reunirnos otra vez ! At this point Jenifer's person embodied on my aunt Rosa and she smile at me with a certanty the same one I long to get some day.
by The Shortfellow
12/09/12
she was in some kind of jungle
sitting on lotus position next to her was Jenifer Nugent and a third person, another member of my family but to be true with what I recall this third person keep changing during my whole dream sometimes one of my brothers sometime my uncle and sometime my sister and so and so. Everybody had their eyes closed but I was able to communicate with my sister telepathically she was happy and she was explaining me every thing in there the color of the flowers the singing of the birds but there were no sounds or noise interruptions, her voice was mature than when she was in her human body we knew I was in another place in paradise I think at the same time I was having articulated conversations with the other members of my family I was a sort of filter for her to perceive them and communicate with them. I was perplex and so excited when I realized the place where the time and place where life begin they were not human they were like Gorillas, after a while they move like it and move in group I was looking from the beginning from a train like a upper rail road a train above the whole landscape and the picture was like a Vincent van Gogh painting thats how I knew that was Magali for real because she love his work and his life, She make sure to tell me every second in a way or another that she was pleased to be there, at some point I was walking as a part of the group and the third person suddenly was Mica Jenifers's daughter I was understanding they were like an impression of my aunt Rosa Magali's mother when she was a child and she want me to understand it like that,I did.
We start walking on a narrow track cover by really green plants and big trees I was taking by the beauty and my sister with a smile and holding my hands told me with a hug into my waist as she always did when we did not saw me for a while in Mexico City, Hermano te quiero pero no te pongas triste dile a mi herma que la extranho pero que yo los espero aqui donde todos vamos a reunirnos otra vez ! At this point Jenifer's person embodied on my aunt Rosa and she smile at me with a certanty the same one I long to get some day.
by The Shortfellow
12/09/12
Sunday, September 9, 2012
Al Artista
El estado de las cosas
Es la portada sin regreso
De un sentimiento acomodado
A ese que nunca pudimos encontrar
Una pila insuficiente
De almohadones
Tan fuertes
Que del alma columna fueron
Ya no hay espacio,
El estado de las cosas
es una rama hecha de palabras que no pretenden ser nada
Por que ya lo son
Y el silencio
Con ellas nada mas
Ahi,
Propiamente ininterrumpido
Como agua
Glorioso !
Asumiendo casi verbal
Una posicion exacta en la mente,
Todo momento es instante,
El estado de las cosas
Es mi momento de abrir estos ojos
A la pregunta maldita de la felicidad ,
Sin embargo
Ya no hay espacio acomodado
En un lugar cercano
A ese que nunca pudimos encontrar
El estado de las cosas
Es este silencio
Que sigue
Que ahi va
A cada instante.
By The Shortfellow
19/04/06
Es la portada sin regreso
De un sentimiento acomodado
A ese que nunca pudimos encontrar
Una pila insuficiente
De almohadones
Tan fuertes
Que del alma columna fueron
Ya no hay espacio,
El estado de las cosas
es una rama hecha de palabras que no pretenden ser nada
Por que ya lo son
Y el silencio
Con ellas nada mas
Ahi,
Propiamente ininterrumpido
Como agua
Glorioso !
Asumiendo casi verbal
Una posicion exacta en la mente,
Todo momento es instante,
El estado de las cosas
Es mi momento de abrir estos ojos
A la pregunta maldita de la felicidad ,
Sin embargo
Ya no hay espacio acomodado
En un lugar cercano
A ese que nunca pudimos encontrar
El estado de las cosas
Es este silencio
Que sigue
Que ahi va
A cada instante.
By The Shortfellow
19/04/06
Saturday, September 8, 2012
Que
Que
Que si termino como los demas que
Nadie
Ni el que quise entendiera
Borracho como la madre
Y solo pasare la noche
Alterado pero solo
Y por ese mismo hecho
Infeliz
Como las peliculas disenhadas a mi
Iluso latino
Caminante sobre las horas no caminadas
Aun desconocidas para los ninhos bien que no saben nada y
Y lo manejan todo
Que
Que si termino como los demas
Y enfrente de ellos
Como ellos y a orgullo de los que me vieron
Ser este perdido sin calle y sin bazar
Nada mas paga
Nada mas cobra
Soy el designado
Me humillo
Vivo
Escapo
Soy el esclavo absoluto de este amanecer solo y quieto
Y es triste
Pero es
Que
Que sea
Lo que quiera yo
Que sea.
The Shortfellow
08/09/12
Que si termino como los demas que
Nadie
Ni el que quise entendiera
Borracho como la madre
Y solo pasare la noche
Alterado pero solo
Y por ese mismo hecho
Infeliz
Como las peliculas disenhadas a mi
Iluso latino
Caminante sobre las horas no caminadas
Aun desconocidas para los ninhos bien que no saben nada y
Y lo manejan todo
Que
Que si termino como los demas
Y enfrente de ellos
Como ellos y a orgullo de los que me vieron
Ser este perdido sin calle y sin bazar
Nada mas paga
Nada mas cobra
Soy el designado
Me humillo
Vivo
Escapo
Soy el esclavo absoluto de este amanecer solo y quieto
Y es triste
Pero es
Que
Que sea
Lo que quiera yo
Que sea.
The Shortfellow
08/09/12
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