Sunday, March 29, 2015

This is my Sunday ( after the cocktail )

The blue light
and the tiny color behind
over a bench and dying 
like an old day the present
over a stuck of paper
with letters and shapes
undone
always real and wet 
appreciative of a slightly incoherent thought 
Here in the nordic face of earth 
the translation of kindness 
difficult trip of breath over the conscious of this child.
by The Shortfellow
New York City
29/03/15

Wednesday, March 25, 2015

The Reason

Today
you will put back your life together
from the remotes parts on earth to the corners of the still unknown areas of the vast universe
you most never forget
you are a universe on your own
you purity is not purity anywhere else and may be stained at some point of its cycle making it even more powerful because the space created by that stain comes from love
and passion of living perhaps a dream somebody else dream of you
Today to the graceful notes of a guitar 
and this full meal in front of you 
Life will come together for you to play with it
and from the very beginning of the day you will nail the pieces of a game without knowing the end because you know is no use of it 
no use in knowing it
you may stay put in that game because your concerns may were sombody else concerns way before they were your concerns in orther for you to play so the game was nothing but joy for you to play with
you are alone Yes ! 
is okay you may find out that no body say we are in groups that we have to
Today or any other day when you may feel absurd in your own existence even then there is a reason to be that or this and even not to be anything in particular 
see ? 
Today I am here with you and you are able to write a note for yourself and I.
by The Shortfellow
New York City 
22/03/15

Thursday, March 19, 2015

The Content -1

The things that I think
the things that I write 
the ones I push on and the ones I let go
dropped unnecessarily
the ones beating on the top of my spiritual existence and the ones that does not apply to nobody but myself
my skin interest and the prose coming from my veins tracks 
this walking of my shield need to be done soon 
or later 
or even way past my life but need to be done
yes right there where my clues are glue to me and yet nothing of my own.
by The Shortfellow
New York City 
19/03/15

Modified Version 

The things that I think

the things that I write 

the ones I push on 

and the ones I let go,


The things,

I dropped unnecessarily,


The ones beating on the top of my spiritual existence

and the ones that does not apply to nobody but myself,


My skin interest 

and the prose coming out from my vein’s tracks,

 

This walking of my shield,

These things need to be done soon 

or later, 

or even way after my life is gone 

but these things, need to be done,


Yes! Right there,

where my clues are glued to myself

and yet nothing is of my own.

by The Shortfellow

New York, 21/11/21



Sunday, March 1, 2015

Seafood for one

I just watched a movie
refreshing lines about reality 
and the time when we stop being useful
admirable the landscape of their mind
they
so foreign the term of insane distance
and I just remember the name of these two 
chopsticks 
culinary concept about somebody leaving earth
coming back and taking revenge on the soil like there will not be tomorrow 
again
so forgettable the loose 
so adorable the truth when is a far away place
like the heart from the brain 
different countries an different shame 
in the end 
in the end, nothing
nothing but objects and this cantonese soup waiting
smoking waiting
steaming I mean
the walls and the tables
seafood and a beautiful actress 
fresh like my memory
Childhood was good 
here and now 
the approximation of the stars  
long run 
seating here
just having dinner.
by The Shortfellow
New York City
28/02/15