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Juego y Poesia

zoopat Todo cabe en esta pequeña hoz 9 de febrero de 2016 Johan Huizinga: Homo ludens, 7: Juego y poesía Quien se ocupe de los orígenes de la filosofía griega en su conexión con las primitivas porfías sacrales de sabiduría tiene que moverse necesariamente en la frontera entre las formas de expresión filosófico-religiosas y las poéticas. Por eso es conveniente ahora que preguntemos por la…

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When I think I loose

when I think I loose something goes to places of comfort a sort of lattice with no edge thinking is for assholes or simply graduates my sole solace is to sleep no waking for a single heap women are somnambulist with sex appeal the brute will inherit the earth just wait and see or don’t do as you please if you can

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I am A Giraffe

I am A Giraffe

I sleep when the noise goes to the button of the earth to find the absynth of the chimney, as my lover says, “there is no life without rubbing a dick”, she was a great infant, like a dandelion after shaving her arm pit, blue and red the hairs that fall into the grave. I am a giraffe and love to contemplate, but humans are very stupid, they come to take pictures of me and never of the ants.

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How To Love

While it seems like an easy task, falling in love is something that many adults have great difficulty doing. The fear of gagging causes the heart to tighten up so that love stays in your mouth until you spit it out. Fortunately, there are various ways to approach the problem so that you can relax, overcome the fear of choking, and just let the love easily slide down. It’s like riding a bike –…

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Where I came From

Where I came From

Of all the crap you see hear and taste a pair of legs walked down the bus at the Morelos station the rest is bullshit coming from people who have never contemplated the soul of desire

under the bridge she walks all the light became real for a moment I felt alive

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Dialogue between a Spik and a Negro

Dialogue between a Spik and a Negro

Ruddy’s was the place to be on Wednesday nights, cheap drinks, free hot dogs and the graceful presence of Times Square hookers late at night, what a wonderful scene, marines hookers and the best jazz juke box inn Manhattan, rowdy and something almost always happened, better than life. I was a young man in a strange country, had my fists tested in FLA and Brooklyn for stupid prejudices on my…

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You, Paula

You stuck a needle of cheap material You were probably alone As things that grow in the rain And I wonder what you’ve felt If to your rescue one of these poets came those sentimentalists you knew by heart those delicate revolutionaries

But your hoarse voice will always sound around the trees of my head

Absent you are When everything was nice No one ever knew What you must have felt Alone

This…

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Dessert Blue

Why should I bend? Night has qualms with destroyed souls Only the hiss of the former days Can restore the mattress of time Should I repeat my self on end higher than this? Night becomes great deeds never uncovered Like a woman’s despair Her self Vigilant of departed cats Dreaming silences The street at her cover Shines where there are No more sighs She mingles in poverty Tries her luck as a…

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Peas in Water

Hey men I hate you Me too You woman I man You left and hurt Came Like a China tale I man You woman Hate your lips and ass Your skinny little finger An all my body drenched in sweat I woman You man Hate you all day Yesterday Some ants were killed With my sole Thinking on the time You were with another man And two and three Or when you passed away I man You woman Bone with bone forevermore

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THE MARQUIS DE SADE, IN A LETTER TO HIS WIFE

THE MARQUIS DE SADE, IN A LETTER TO HIS WIFE

My manner of thinking, so you say, cannot be approved. Do you suppose I care? A poor fool indeed is he who adopts a manner of thinking for others! My manner of thinking stems straight from my considered reflections: it holds with my existence, with the way I am made. It is not in my power to alter it; and were it, I’d not do so. These manners of thinking you find fault with is my sole consolation…

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Naked punish

My mother late at night naked She was in the hall, next to the bathroom my attraction to women has been ever since one of fascination and horror my aunt wanted me to have a thinner nose fuller upper lip then my cousin promised to show me her breasts I never saw her again that week I dreamed of her big breasts the room at my grandma’s house and chess boards

mothers have more influence on the poet t…

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Amerixans

Can only talk about themselves, how they feel and think, the latter and the former are only filters of marketing and sales,  hypnotized to believe in self and the importance of you, uncle. Suicide is not allowed therefore poetry suffers a great deal, clean beauty using vulgar words does not make a poem. Amerixans have more upper case words than any other planet in the milky Way, Internet, April…

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A far cry from spitting on the sidewalk

A far cry from spitting on the sidewalk

Had the hope of giving up as well as dying had the hopes of any old man with a shit for life of unstoppable parables and boring friends

he stepped out of his house walked as any old day dressed on a two piece suit went to the bus stop

He leaned to see if it was coming and as usual he came fast this mexican buses are all too reliable for not following the speed limit He jumped in front of the bus a…

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Fire floats abroad

Solitude is a boat In murky waters The only place where the souls of the world still sing

Solitude is the song of the brave Who ignore themselves obedient to The Infinity  within Solitude chooses you While taking a dump Or dreaming with obsessed Souls

It drinks alone with unspeakable boredom Do not avoid it It will shower you with Gifts of endurance Among the most incredible Odds Like a saint…

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Not to Be

invent your feeelings There is no beauty unless need rules your soul she does not care about your sincerity identity bored as a hooker on a rainy night your will is nothing but fancy fooled lie to yourself as much as you can feel what is not there to set the forrest in flames you are nothing

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My Belly

So you say elephants don’t fly Or that malice was a brute Out of a cave But I still adore your legs Even If you snore while caressing My belly Then I go for another line A beer And scream out the window You in bed showing those legs Dreaming about whales and foam

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yeees