The Villagers about "The Rapture" Chapter#4

We look tired

and the silence is unmeasurable

the waives of lost

and tumult 

perhaps our name

was used in vane 

and the arteries in the sky

gave up on us 

broken by the dryness 

of our soul 

and here we are

confused and lonely,

We look sore

from the fight we did hold with all our force

against anything

like the soreness we feel now

we tired look as well

and this is our division 

and our fragmentation 

the goal of lust 

and the impediment of affection

We cannot even speak 

We are sorry

We don't know 

and here we are 

still and sore,

We are speechless

we have walk for so long  

with our tables full of food and drink

waiting for us 

prepared with enormous amount of pleasure and love 

the same amount of arrogancy we built and destroyed roads right after 

we pass them all

in order for others 

to reach nothing but failure

and now we are away from home 

empty of food and drinks

with only memories resting 

over a table of empty goods

why ? 

We don't know

and wondering we are

but there is nothing absolutely nothing around to answer 

to protect us

we wished not to be protected then 

and here we are 

speechless and afraid, 

We are wishing

and so long we did not came to this face 

we were after something else but life

we did not remember how to live

so we forget how to dream

the forest we built our houses on 

has being consumed by the games of our youth 

and quickly filled with dust 

by their furious stomping 

and the constant shouting 

into its own glory

away they went ! 

leaving us here in loneliness 

with our rural pride,

the primitive love once refined 

is the same today but cover in sorrow and darkness

and yet no body come to greet us 

and here we are

wishing on the nightly cold,

We are at night

and looks like the same night when we went away

we just want a new day that night

and that day is at dusk !

the villagers guided by the stars are coming back to its own soil 

to recover what is theirs 

We dont know how

or when,

and here we are

in the middle of the night

anxious furious and helpless 

ultimetely tired.

"About The Rapture" Chapter #4

by The Shortfellow

New York City

29/12/13

 

about "The Rapture"

All of the sudden 

everything is vanished 

the colors are pure 

life is not finish but transform 

you are a generator now

you carry the knowledge 

you know every thing 

and every one

in here 

used and communicate this.

"Life is but a memory"

by The Shortfellow

New York City

19/12/13

The Protesters faith

Look at the vast amount of people

the rivers of living blood still radiant inside their bodies

so beautiful like the oxygen in the flowers that protect them out side this city

colorful like their own eyes looking straight to victory from each and every spot 

as your everyday lovers 

on this 

and every main square built on each great city around the globe,

Yes they are lovers too ! 

There is one voice among all of them that belong to all of us,

The wind is the ship just like the pollen making life possible 

The grass is green 

and the land is full of it's softness

the rain is pouring and the land is full of grass  

The sun is radiant and the land is full of grass

They are shouting and the land is full of grass

They are sad

and the land is drying fast

listen clearly and the wind is passing by

save them quickly

and your life will soon come back.

by The Shortfellow

In the train from Philadelphia to New York City, "thinking about Thailand and The Philippines, The American Indians and Guerrero after the flood." 

25/11/13

The dancing and the...

Then I was there

I am here

in this memory

here

and I never thought

I think

all this dancing

we are dancing

you are

I am watching

You keep dancing

and I am writing

funny but this paradox will not start here

I remember this place and the lights that make it possible

you'r right 

I am right 

and we all are

I am smiling

the lights are still on.

by The Shortfellow

02/11/13

2013: Space Odyssey

There is the touch of God

and the others

a sense of love 

by nice things

allegoric feelings 

trauma along the way

light and happiness 

protection and comfort

a lunatic faith

a French intervention

and the others

the travel of space and time

uniquely out and from earth 

no more 

no beyond

Then there is a touch of enthusiasm 

and the others 

the vision during night

the sound of the lyons

the view of the stars

a critical failure 

and a dive

everything out from the same soil

the stress of a ship or two 

three to five by the count

less than 1 Human death 

silence

reflexion 

lesson learned 

blame 

and Go!

Go!

Go!

Go!

God touch then

and 

The others run

as usual 1 stand 

staring

contemplating

visualizing

realizing 

everything and beyond

like the stars

like the calm sea

the running rivers 

and the always there mountains

then with a touch of self

this individual shout

1

2

3

times 

nude and dress up with only temperature

cover of hope and logic

knowing it all 

subconsciously

like ever

was never before 

and 

once o ever known

like when the fire 

reach desperately to the surface of the ocean screaming sexually awaked 

Saying:

:

:

:

Dónde has estado ? 

by The Shortfellow

"written in a plane in my way to Warsaw, Poland from New York City"

30/10/13

Modify Version

There is the touch of God

and the others

a sense of love 

by nice things,

Allegorical feelings 

trauma along the way

light and happiness 

protection and comfort,

A lunatic faith

a French intervention

and the others

the travel of space and time

uniquely out and from earth 

no more 

nor beyond,

Then there is a touch of enthusiasm 

and the others 

the vision during night

the sound of the lyons

the view of the stars

a critical failure 

and a dive,

Everything out from the same soil

the stress of a ship or two 

three to five by the count

less than 1 Human death,

 

Silence

reflexion 

lesson learned 

blame 

and Go!

Go!

Go!

Go!

God touch then

and 

The others run,

As usual 1 stands up 

staring

contemplating

visualizing

realizing 

everything and beyond,

Like the stars

like the calm sea

the running rivers 

and the always there 

the mountains,

then with a touch of self

this individual shout

1

2

3

times,

 

Nude and dress up with only temperature

cover by hope and logic

knowing it all 

subconsciously

like ever

was never before,

 

and, 

once or ever known

like when the fire reach desperately to the surface of the ocean screaming sexually awaked 

Saying:

:

:

:

¿Dónde has estado ? (Where have you been?)

by Shortfellow, New York State, 21/11/21

 

Airplane Tale

I am sitting in a plane on my way to Chicago, the sun have being so generously posing its multiple arms and legs on half of my body since we departure and it feels amazing specially in my legs, leaning back and being and observer from my ordinary place I can peacefully watch little details from the other passengers and is extremely satisfying to experience so many intimate behaviors that some how in the city down there on the ground we cannot see that easily in daily life. Just above every sit I can see little moves by the heads of the other passengers in front of me, the suave moves of their fingers over and between their hair or the slow embracing from an arm over and towards somebody's shoulder, two necks reposing towards each other or two foreheads leaning to touching point slowly so slowly that I can imagine a fragile soft kiss from here, the minimalistic and care-full scratching of an ear, the minuscule child like moves of the pupils when somebody look through the window and see the clouds so closer to the plane, the precious touch of hands against the cover of a book or the nostalgic passing of last pages of it and the cautious movement of the neck in response to knowing some great pleasure will end soon, the almost primitive act of picking a glass full of juice or water or just ice cubes towards the mouth and the animalistic nervousness on dropping some object to the floor, the thoughtful moment of a meditation before to start a letter or a simple note, the caressing of time with the safe thought of not being able to rush some place, the sun being so generously posing its multiple arms and legs over half of my body and me sitting here on a plane on my way to Chicago.
On Air
by The Shortfellow
22/10/13

Durante la noche

Quemame
desesperadamente bajo la noche que estalla lenta
quemame sin angustia
y haz que esta luz que se apaga
reviva también desesperadamente y brille desde aqui
para poder empezar de algún lugar,
quemame ahora
y no dejes que mi llanto apague el fuego voraz de tu locura
que es de todas formas la única guía que nos queda
Esta noche sabíamos llegaría y no hay ya deseos atados a tus piernas ni a mi obsession por morderlas incansablemente
Quemame de noche para que el dia ya no se recuerde y si es que llega
Se nos vea desde acá
como la gente ahora mira al Sol.
by The Shortfellow
12/09/13
New York City

The way

There most be a way
just as there was a way we thought there is a way and when we find that way a new way will be the way.
by The Shortfellow
09/12/13

About Imperialism

When you arrived to this land You realized why it should be free of oppression and when you arrived to this land and they ask you You realized why they are oppressed.
by The Shortfellow
09/09/13

That night in Costa Rica

Many of them
of you
drink
to take away or to take in
many of the...
of it
and tonight may be
many to come
to stay
to never come
to vanished
and then...
a few of all
of many
will be empty and bright
dark and full
probably vanished
we all may be...
may not
may be.
by The Shortfellow
San Jose de Costa Rica
05/09/13

Brooklyn Nite

With Brooklyn going after midnight
and the black lady playing with a pink skirt I am
This one very peculiar guy
asking me if I am ready to leave soon
Yes may be
and I remember
that
was
the very peculiar line that used to make him crazy
Yes may be
and still
Brooklyn you are
and Brooklyn I am
many friends went down
smelling your gorgeous light from a bed full of comfort packed with the unknown
my friends used to know
and now they sleep
they sleep believe me on what they will know
in their assumption of what future means
what the hell future means ?
Don't assumed they keep telling me !
and there they are
I am
after a Jameson and some
some
some glass less full of ice
just like Brooklyn with not judgement
I am and I am Inn
like the Hotel chain
because I feel again protected
and curious
I used to lived around the corner
I used to
Believe me.
by The Shortfellow
Brooklyn NY 2013

Owe to "my drinking problem" (so proud)

The almost physically couple
the gray bartender
the racist chick with an eternal smile to costume resentment
and a beautiful neighborhood looking empty
in the middle of the whole work
Whats wrong ?
The man ready to leave planet Earth show unhappiness when I establish conversation
How so ?
East Village I am sad
and I will drink for you tonight as you cultured me ones in peace,

I found myself
bored
of rude words and country flavors
reaching back to home instead of the forest away from tired parents
I saw streets full of lonely vomits and sets of keys that may be mean to get loss after the fist drink,

I am sad for seeing my presence vanished by something so little fragil and green,

I miss the streets
where the young me
used to be young me instead of
papa and mama going bad before really going bad,

East Village I can feel your streets shaking out of historical discomfort and vomiting back your disgust but
Hey Dude I am just like you a past full of dreams twisted and weird
no memory no aim
no place
that little green guy really eat our friends up on their name before they die
Lets make noise to stay alive then and lets brake a boost.
by the Shortfellow
Owe to my drinking problem ( so proud)
25/08/13
New York City 

Modify version

The almost physically couple

the gray bartender

the racist chick with an eternal smile to customize resentment 

and a beautiful neighborhood looking empty,

In the middle of the whole world,

What's wrong ? 

The man ready to leave planet earth showed unhappiness when I established conversation 

How so ? 

East Village I am sad!

and I will drink for you tonight as you cultured me ones in peace,

I found myself 

bored of rude words and country flavors, 

I reaching back to home instead,

of the forest away from tired parents

I saw streets full of lonely vomits and sets of keys,

that meant someone got lost after the fist drink,

East Village I am sad!

and I will drink for you tonight as you cultured me ones in peace,

I am sad for seeing my presence vanished by something so little,

So  fragile and green,

I miss the streets 

where the young me

used to be young me,

instead of playing papa and mama going bad before really going bad,

East Village I can feel your streets shaking out of historical discomfort

and vomiting back your disgust but hey Dude!

I am just like you

a past full of dreams twisted and weird,

No memory

No aim 

No place,

 

That little green guy really ate our friends up

on their name before they die

Let's make noise to stay alive then

and let's break a boost.

by Shortfellow, New York State, 21/11/21

The Immigrant ( El inmigrante )

Que come?
Que hace y que escucha ?
Por que en medio de la noche no se detiene su luz como todo lo que se encuentra en este lugar ?
Dónde esta su comienzo y su final ?
Qué dirección esta tomando en este preciso momento ?
Qué hace ?
A quien le habla y como es que se comunica ?
Cuantas horas duerme y donde se encuentra su corazon ?
Sus ojos?
Sus ojos también se llenan de lagrimas y acaso puede respirar este aire que nos rodea ya contaminado ?
Quien es ?
Como describe su persona
su existencia y su forma de vida ?
Como contiene su ira o en que se convierte cuando no ?

Tiene miedo mientras cruza la oscuridad de nuestros dias ?
Tiene sed ?
Desde cuando esta aqui ?
de que se alimenta y en que dias se da una ducha de agua caliente?
Quien es ?
que quiere?
que necesita?
que sueña?
que le atormenta?
que ve?
que toca?
que piensa?
que espera?
que recuerda?
Esta solo?
by The Shortfellow
New York City
31/07/13

Between the branches

Night and forest
many leaves dropped into the ground
your face was full of mud
my hands

Rain fall over your body
and slowly the clothes we bring
fall as well
slowly
slowly
beautifully slowly
to the rhythm of the drops
I was watching you
drunk of night and you
how much I love you
and we enter in the lake
late diving
amazing waves
our intimate tsunami
that make the birds cursed to our behavior in the middle of the night

Who is there ?
We both scream loudly when we saw that light turn on between the branches
You were really scare
remember ?
I was there with you
and you hold me
really tide so
that I was afraid suddenly
I thought the worst
but you start laughing uncontrollably
and slowly
dangerously slowly
you placed my hand between your tides
and say...
by The Shortfellow
06/07/13

Poetry is not texting

I found my place
sometimes away
sometimes just so far
peculiar place
and peculiar time
but mine
and around it
so many laughter
so many sadness too
many instruments will tune is sound
but no so many will tune its core
perhaps I am being insecure
perhaps I am just being this guy
and perhaps this guy is just being a lonely texter.
by The Shortfellow
29/06/13

Out there

Time continuation most be
a singular line straight to the heart of color
silence and strategic
measure in a way that nobody can reach the end of its existence
so night and day can be there when the
rebellious uncommitted souls to represent want to be by them selves,
and find the mistery of the universe in their own way and sense,
Warm weather
Corners
Doors,

Around this line
should be not a single recognizable being
but the idea of it
its elements
and lots of space for the sake of creativity,
so if the curious come they can do as they advance minds give them the chance to accomplished things when they cannot stop being curious,
Tools
Materia


In some necessary stops of this line
it most be a place within the space
where thoughts of good man
can be wrote and keep in the generous mind of the cosmos
so when
adventurous souls choose to have a rest
they know they are not tired and that stop not necessary means to stop but to held oneself and breath look and perceived
look even further than before and keep going in their adventurous journey.
by The Shortfellow
25/06/13

Realization for years

The aunts walk so unfamiliar to me that I knew they were aunts
The Shortfellow
19/06/13

Bruno's Pl

Same place
repetition and music
after night finish the work
a little bit injure but okay
who is not I say
walking the night enjoying the bar
warm wheather
need of a drink loose the mind
getting horny
about who and about when?
Silence is not a friend here but the cracking of he glass
when the pour
when the laugh
when the night over your eyes
same place
repetition and the classic pop song
across the ocean.
by The Shortfellow
Le Unique (Bruno's Pl)
Marseille,France.
19/06/13

Inside the church

Miniature figures
imitation of lock holes in the distance
human like
small though...

I remembered their flesh stiff
shade by a glamorous night
there was the empty building
church like
no more for some
a castle for others
ruined I will say,

She stood for long time
full of live ashamed of her beauty
and stare at the out space
I know she did
as I was able to smell the sea shore
her eyes
paths of my simulated memories
and the sudden stomp of...

The light changed and this sunset
ever stoping again and again
continues imitating the fireplace of the cosmos,

He took her
splashing the stars all over her future
leaving her there
after the picnic
over concrete grass
from here looks hard and cold
She stood quiet again
Waiting
Submissive
Confident !
Strongly and full of love
He stare from the Cliff
and sadly in his destiny
He did not wave Good Bye,

Their figures remind in me
small and heavy
dark and shiny
I think they come from deep inside my soil
They smell like a metal freshly spoon from earth.
by The Shortfellow
"The memories after Saul Ulerio performance at Judson Church on a spring monday 2013"
12/06/13

A time and a place

I will like to stay
sit down in a place
wrap a cup of coffee
or drink a glass of wine
stare at the empty street
and look towards the hudson shore
remember things
but that time is not yet here
closer may be
near perhaps
but not yet here

I will like to have a moment
of thinking after reading terrible news during breakfast
right before I closed the door
and put a hard face
to survive the day
but that time is not yet here
arriving may be
reachable perhaps
but not yet here

I will like to stand on a corner
and wait for that love one
smiling and taking me some place
stay with him until
have some dinner and cuddle the dreams of the day on his bed or mine to the skirts of the night
but that time
is not yet here
by The Shortfellow
09/06/13

Pronouns

Codes
numbers
things
angles
shifts
standards and shit
we all come from some place,

Questions
politics
meltdowns
concerns
and killings
insecurities we all hold,

Drinks
tips
meals
groceries
thoughts
concepts
Utopias we all stand for,

Pronouns
We all forget about.
by The Shortfellow
30/05/13

Clockwise

I was seating there
small but comfy chair
eyes closed
Music on
then the dark dome and the colors
revolving in a clockwise direction
multicolor direction
choice no more
but the same one
and still like a deep sea creatures
the lights of this clock
vivid and genuine
lighting me some place
some where
perhaps I am seeing the light
to carry it to the darkness of the
Unknown
Will I rest there ?
No,
I will be up and restlessly thinking on a dream more than the possibly ordinary day
once the light get there
All the hidden will be seeing
just like in this light
just like the horrors you see right now
that you see here
No everything is that
let me be clear
Oh no !
I was just seating here
on this comfy chair.
by The Shortfellow
11/05/13

Cavalcade

Night time is a promise
not an illusion nor vision
but a promise that handle the shades from the day
and put them back together painless not remembering the next day light time
on her boxy womb,

Like a nap on the house
of waist land
full of wonder and bruises
paved roads some says
street ways some believes in,
either way
either way
either way,
the night sheets
will cover smoothly
the undone and the proud
the raw and the creeped
to let them fly free
over the day's dusty sheets
through the morning will
calm and sharp
clean and sure
Like a magnificent dawn will perform her cavalcade away flashing back to us on the distance waiting for that one soul who see her running to always come back in time
on time
in time
on time
who knows?
She may be back.
by The Shortfellow
23/04/13

The Constant & The City

Sometimes is the smell of...
Sometimes is the writing on...
The skeletons at the street cycling infinite
way to survive I guess ?
sometimes is the music
and the shadows that plays it from the corner of the room all the way from heaven and hell I guess ?
sometimes is the trying simply simple like a coin you know ?
sometimes is the movements of a mere distraction what shakes you like if you are just coming or leaving they don't care they do their thing and pass on into the next and you just there watching
The City some say
and I believe I guess ?
Sometimes is the tenuous light
resting over somebody's shoulder winging at you calling you
and striping you with this genuine impetuous talent
you just cannot resist
I guess?
The, and that melody keeps just rolling and I guess the swing of my body got to put the bones together for the constant keeper
just to say.
Not guessing here.
by The Shortfellow
24/04/13

Three Trees

Three trees
cloudy sky
calm waters
afternoon sun
the good lunch
the grass and the light
such a beautiful day.
by The Shortfellow
24/04/13

The Concept

I am lining here
lay on the edge of a building built by the prince from somewhere else
at the edge between the grace of civilization and the greed of human kind
some sort of wind come and try to pick me up while
I witness the sun lighting my soil
but the wind was so playful that I got ticklish and so I sneeze and flowers from skin jump into the land and cover the landscape with amazing colors ever found on earth
then something crash into my eyes
and the concept of fear populate the mind
the flowers never found
my eyes where blind by fear
and the sudden lesson
the night came near me
and caress my body with aromas and sea water
and told me how everything can be recover following her to the other side of the planet
and so here we are looking into the place ones
we both dream
She was waiting for somebody to follow
and the follower arrived
I am smiling
by The Shortfellow
20/04/13

Querer

La misteriosa vibracion de tu voz
la misma que ya conozco
no la quiero
me estremece
vete.
by The Shortfellow
16/04/13

Noche y tren

La pareja
El hombre solo
el que se duerme
yo escuchando la canción europea
el tren andando a media noche
si
despues de las horas de la contemplación
viene Nueva York
con las ganas de follar
de ser
de exterminar con la era de la exterminacion
las caras
las ropas
y las sonrisas conversas que no dejan de enumerar los tragos de felicidad que cedieron al delirio hoy
esta cayendo la noche
aun soy yo
y esa es la misma celebración
la misma que protege el estado de libertad
que fue declarado aun
aun antes de que
tu y yo
supiéramos
que estábamos bajo su
claro oscura protección.
by The Shortfellow
08/04/13

El reposo

El viento que se desliza suavemente por una rendija
la orilla de sus labios y el bao que emite silencioso
la luz es azul
alguien abre la puerta y sus ojos aun dormidos
las sabanas con la temperatura del reposo
el sonido intenso de la alarma coge sus pantalones y al tocar sus manos la madera que rechina
hay una silla y el cafe humeante no se escucha nada
pasan algunos minutos
se fue.
by The Shortfellow
24/03/13

The Mode

I don't mind certainly
the time and the hour
the mode you are in
the mood you will put me on
lots of us out there
there we were
in the space of vomit
in the space of saying
jumping near the garbage beans
believing thoughts were truth at their time
who changes ?
not us
the slowly walk back home
the stomach monster coming too
brushing with softness
the mess up part of the inner child
who knows ?
not us
inside the train the night
the skills of magic tongue
our touch almost forgotten
by the polar light and so
who saw ?
not us
but the always body shape of the night immerse in light
like a wet pamper of past
like a sucker to the cried
and so
and so
and now.
by The Shortfellow
1:36am 16/03/13
New York City

The Dance

There
right at that moment
when your shoulders hurt and your foot are wide open
the breathing is hard and short
when the sweat is over your entire being your eyes look beyond the walls of a mere building and after what you think is the last jump
there
your body and only your body
find your soul flouting over the ocean of Happiness-
Right there is just the beginning of the real journey of a dancing angel
ah ah !
Don't look back push even harder and follow the guide of life to really enjoy that thing that a few can understand...
The Dance
by The Shortfellow
14/02/13
"to the future warriors of Terpsichore"

My eyes

My eyes are slowly practicing
the sleeping action of the heart
structures of desire
projected on the screen
horizon like the sunset
they are nights
no sun nor moon
but night pure and full of calm
rested thirst traveling through the planet veins
time windows
beautiful fossils of my name
printed in round colors
ever touch and printed gods
attentive to the next step
peaceful choices of the future
silent warriors from the past.
by The Shortfellow
12/02/13

Ode to the Sunrise ( o la cola multicolor de la serpiente emplumada regresando )

Last night I almost went away
to eat fire inside the usual room inhabited by the soul
and the amazing sunrise of the morning
I was ready to fly away like most of us these days
perturbed by my daymares
on this poisoned sea of reality
by the ship's skeletons returning from an invasion on a dreamed land so far away that just a few remember its name
the skeletons got legs they are no longer angels of the sea but dogs evil pets of Nostradamus
death walking creatures because the oceans vanished as a punishments after they crossed to kill the unknown
and so then and so now my legs were shaking madly after this visions in such a similar speed the wild horses took when hunted by their masters right at the beginning of millennia
my thoughts were screaming
Help
Help
Help !
like the victims already dead on the cover of the cheap news papers of New York City
trapped in a hell of claims and disclaims by
the big monsters with thousand eyes
my sacred city watching
as if I was a ghost
I could not finishing my own sentences
I could not tell my appearance or my structure
Oh my delirium my city's masturbation !
eyaculating gay blood fuel with loneliness
always related on political pornography and the past guilt
fast like the trains and the sad portrait of an ignorant politician on prime time running the house hold small telescope of "America"
every day my veins
Oh my veins !
hidden inside my skin pronouncing no words but noise
scare like me,
who else
who else
who else?
this populated empty world
on its mute mode and done try to walk like the returned unknowns on prescribed cocktails of generic multicolor pills like the dream and the smoke that put them to sleep forever
is there time to hold tide into my heart this very and last weapon ?
my pride
my pride
my pride !
In the distance the resonance
of a two hundred years revolution
explosions of desperation coming out from the nose of a woman older than us
holding a used pot that got silver letters announcing her terrible name
where should I go to hide?
hold tide like a baby I whisper to myself
You don't know nothing about warfare transmitted diseases

Last night I almost went again
to kill my precious need of freedom
the one that is already hurt by its own name
and I cried like some many of my friends
in a fake cave full of love
under the fake weather
eating fake food in my fake house
I tried really hard to send my roped conscious into my wounded victory to save my fake body and
I failed
I failed
I failed !
falling then I saw the quiet life of my neighbors that were still on pictures saturated of redounded and silly memories shit by their grand parents
floor by floor
in stiffed repetitions
I saw the streets in a quite fire of petulance
skinny man and woman faceless smiling mentally to a future faceless as well
block by block
deconstructed versions of me
I saw the ground showing the underground a thousand times
in a state of shame and sadness
like the families on dinner watching a white bicycle stilling their entire hope from the planet in slow motion full of grace and chemical blood
A new beast
as a symbol of a millenary religion
I saw my faith
giving up on me
Helpless
Helpless
Helpless !
Then I wake up.
02/02/13

gana por favor gana...

nada comienza donde se espera
el descontento
no es mas que la musica que gira
sobre el plastico negro
que tus padres pusieron en los setentas
no hay razon ni principio para explicar
la causa de lo que no tiene efecto
si acaso este milenio triste
hipocrita
salvaje
clasista
racista y demas...
Lucha
pero no solo lucha
gana.
by The Shortfellow
27/01/13

about art

"if you don't live and feel ,how do you specked to know what you want to express"
You don't
and so We are here
let's talk.
by The Shortfellow
19/01/13

the branches ( o las ramas que no me dejaban ver la luna)

There was the moon
frozen liquid over grass and the wind
some people were cold
the night was young and some people
later just a bit later
the moon again and the road
then the distant bit from a club
I do remember the song
I do remember the time

There was the branches
the sound of a small river still running
slow but running consciously
over the cold fields that protect the empty roads
filled with worried people
driving away on the roads they built
to run away when necessary
I do remember their name
I do remember their fear

There was the moon and the branches taking over
right before my eyes
then the wind and the road
a distant river of cold water
running over warm fields
slow but consciously running
later just a bit later
the sound of a small club
the night was young
filled with worried people.
by The Shortfellow
18/01/13

Camina y Forja

Camina y forja
esta carreta indomable
tímida y fugaz
dócil bestia hambrienta
que se duerme al alba
pero siempre bajo la tierna sonaja
de una canción amorosa

Anda y mese
esta barca insufrible
que flota sobre la noble tormenta

Que es el camino?

...y lleva al borde
nada mas que las flores de la esperanza
y el vino para sobrevivir mañana
no se hunde
flota

Anda y vuela
ave agresiva de vida
abre tus alas al viento sincero de la libertad
llena de gloria estas alas lastimadas
pero libres y fuertes de dolor
Felicidad de lumbre
llenas de generosidad aprendida

Que no se aprende?
El futuro todo

...anda y vive
siempre sonriendo
calmado paso
y llena al firmamento
de luz y de agua
que llueva siempre
que haga sol siempre bajo tu paso

La Paz
El Olvido también
La gama del universo dictador
El entusiasmo de la mente humana

Que te lleve
que no haya nada
y que exista todo de nuevo

Deja
Y consigue dejar de nuevo
anda de ti
y que anden los otros
Si haz de recordar ya no mires nunca para atrás
Busca...
by The Shortfellow
11/10/12
El Vaticano, Roma Italia
"sobre la fe"

Camina y forja

Camina y forja
Esta carreta indomable
Tímida y fugaz
Dócil bestia hambrienta
Que se duerme al alba
Pero siempre bajo la tierna sonaja
De una canción amorosa

Anda y mese
Esta barca insufrible
Que flota sobre la noble tormenta
Que es el camino?
Y lleva al borde
Nada mas que las flores de la esperanza
Y el vino para sobrevivir mañana
No se hunde
Flota

Anda y vuela
Ave agresiva de vida
Abre tus alas al viento sincero de la libertad
Llena de gloria estas alas lastimadas
pero libres y fuertes de dolor
Felicidad de lumbre
Llenas de generosidad aprendida
Que no se aprende?
El futuro todo

Anda y vive
Siempre sonriendo
Calmado paso
Y llena el firmamento
De luz y de agua
Que llueva siempre
Que haga sol siempre bajo tu paso
La paz
El olvido también
La gama del universo dictador
El entusiasmo de la mente humana
Que te lleve
Que no haya nada
Y que exista todo de nuevo
Deja
Y consigue dejar de nuevo
Anda de ti
Y que anden los otros
Si haz de recordar ya no mires nunca para atrás
Busca...
by The Shortfellow
11/10/12
El Vaticano, Roma Italia
"sobre la fe"

Dust

Sunday midnight
two words
simple thoughts
bar and beer
vestida and show
contrast of my quite eve
against laughter
who am I ?
the son of a ?
or the son of a ?
I am in the middle
I have always being
the dawn light
not the Son nor the Earth
but the green shiny light that is born from they both
the astronomical result of an ecuation
or the manifestation of a change
radical and clear
as if was a radical contortion
of cosmical dust
come appear
and disappear.
The Shortfellow
New York City
05/01/13

La noción del tiempo

La noción del tiempo
Tan pasajera como sola
Que podría tener de diferencia
La sentencia de la gloria
La oportunidad del día
Acaso la tarde
Como una hoja seca que vuela
Como la revelación misma de la inmensa belleza
Un instante colorido
Un llanto de alegría susurrado apenas
El canto casual del río inesperado
La noción del tiempo vuelve
Se acomoda y duerme
Ante mis ojos
Como ante los tuyos
Se completa en el horizonte.
by The Shortfellow
01/11/12
Amsterdam, The Nederland