What the fuck is
a caramel jambachino?
Do you really need it?
The world needs
an upgrade.
It is taken down
with viruses, it seems.
jueves, 19 de junio de 2008
You people
You people are going
to go fuck yourselves
with the strength
of the young river
and the freshness
of the brook, yeah!
to go fuck yourselves
with the strength
of the young river
and the freshness
of the brook, yeah!
miércoles, 18 de junio de 2008
(Untitled)
They say they write
their letters and names
in gold,
abundant on the other side
of the desert.
their letters and names
in gold,
abundant on the other side
of the desert.
In gilded letters
In gilded letters,
the name of a land
where the breeze,
they say,
is like a caress
of diamonds
with scents from
far away.
In gilded letters,
the name of a land
with a sunlight that strikes
the incautious man
in awe and desperation;
sysyphean succession
of days and reflections
on the glass
on which we dance
to the tune
of monotony
the name of a land
where the breeze,
they say,
is like a caress
of diamonds
with scents from
far away.
In gilded letters,
the name of a land
with a sunlight that strikes
the incautious man
in awe and desperation;
sysyphean succession
of days and reflections
on the glass
on which we dance
to the tune
of monotony
jueves, 12 de junio de 2008
miércoles, 11 de junio de 2008
Che Guevara Is A Cunt
This work-in-progress poem title
is meant to be provocation.
What he actually was
is a murderer of innocent people.
When you come to think of it,
so many leftist revolutionaries are.
They have the carnage inside them.
The irrantional wish to impose
their defective ontologies
on everybody else,
by means of bullet and blood.
On even days, it makes laugh
to see his idealised portrait
in the garments of some youth.
The rest of the days I think
it is pretty sad
that such abominations are extolled
and praised,
when everything is wrong about them.
is meant to be provocation.
What he actually was
is a murderer of innocent people.
When you come to think of it,
so many leftist revolutionaries are.
They have the carnage inside them.
The irrantional wish to impose
their defective ontologies
on everybody else,
by means of bullet and blood.
On even days, it makes laugh
to see his idealised portrait
in the garments of some youth.
The rest of the days I think
it is pretty sad
that such abominations are extolled
and praised,
when everything is wrong about them.
Four chairs
Four chairs,
laid out as a cross,
forming angles
of 90º degrees.
A black stage.
The illusion of order
and of presence.
Ideas that have been
chewed together
so much
that they resemble
a cat hairball.
That's what I think
of your subsidised theatre.
laid out as a cross,
forming angles
of 90º degrees.
A black stage.
The illusion of order
and of presence.
Ideas that have been
chewed together
so much
that they resemble
a cat hairball.
That's what I think
of your subsidised theatre.
A Poke in the Eye
A poem a day is an exercise
in inner poking indeed.
I don't care if average quality
drops beyond
an imaginary line.
It will be no worse than the general
mediocrity that abounds here.
In fact, what this is is
like I am poking a stick
into a cage
from outside the cage
and it is me too
who sits inside the cage.
This is as if
you could poke your own eye
in the mirror.
And you go on and go on.
Once every day, at the very least.
in inner poking indeed.
I don't care if average quality
drops beyond
an imaginary line.
It will be no worse than the general
mediocrity that abounds here.
In fact, what this is is
like I am poking a stick
into a cage
from outside the cage
and it is me too
who sits inside the cage.
This is as if
you could poke your own eye
in the mirror.
And you go on and go on.
Once every day, at the very least.
martes, 10 de junio de 2008
It all dawned on me
Like a noise noisier than
tinnitus in the desert,
like an envy harder
than an american communist's,
like a greed deeper
than a hedge fund manager's,
it all dawned on me.
tinnitus in the desert,
like an envy harder
than an american communist's,
like a greed deeper
than a hedge fund manager's,
it all dawned on me.
El Escalofrío
Siente el escalofrío espinal del asco
que recorre el mundo,
de esquina a esquina, incansable.
El sabor metálico en la boca
y la garganta prieta
que produce el asco
a los dogmas, a las verdades,
a la naúsea de las palabras huecas
de las falsas filosofías
que nos asedian.
Déjate apretar el nudo
por la noche,
en la cama,
con ese extraño a tu lado,
déjate apretar el nudo
y sofócate tu mismo.
que recorre el mundo,
de esquina a esquina, incansable.
El sabor metálico en la boca
y la garganta prieta
que produce el asco
a los dogmas, a las verdades,
a la naúsea de las palabras huecas
de las falsas filosofías
que nos asedian.
Déjate apretar el nudo
por la noche,
en la cama,
con ese extraño a tu lado,
déjate apretar el nudo
y sofócate tu mismo.
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It actually made me recht.
But I was really surprised
that happened.
Never before had sunlight
on a canvas
made me taste vomit
in my throat.
Not with this urgency
of pre-war life.
Is this the unstoppable advance
of a new sickness?
Is this maybe a natural reaction?
I quickly went outside.
Life went on in Via Brera.
However, what I wanted was to escape
inside.
Visit the Red Tower.
Probably what this is
is a desire to escape
into a world
where I will be just
a frozen oil face.
But I was really surprised
that happened.
Never before had sunlight
on a canvas
made me taste vomit
in my throat.
Not with this urgency
of pre-war life.
Is this the unstoppable advance
of a new sickness?
Is this maybe a natural reaction?
I quickly went outside.
Life went on in Via Brera.
However, what I wanted was to escape
inside.
Visit the Red Tower.
Probably what this is
is a desire to escape
into a world
where I will be just
a frozen oil face.
lunes, 9 de junio de 2008
What is that echo?
Retreat myself
ever further
into the folds
of my inner chamber.
Dilute myself
into the rain
that falls today
in Europe.
But I won't go
without a prayer
and a hammer.
Without some exercise
of will and drum,
at least.
What is that echo
that comes tumbling
from the hills?
ever further
into the folds
of my inner chamber.
Dilute myself
into the rain
that falls today
in Europe.
But I won't go
without a prayer
and a hammer.
Without some exercise
of will and drum,
at least.
What is that echo
that comes tumbling
from the hills?
Broken Fragments
A radio voice transmits broken
fragments from the past.
It had rained and Europe
had been washed clean,
revealing all frailty
in new colors.
Broken music takes me back
to the beat of war.
Maybe what we need in life
is some struggle.
Some hardship.
We are the limp generation.
Losers.
At a loss.
Suicidal and bored.
Failure and conformity
are our trademark.
We go through life
without leaving a mark.
Without honour at all.
fragments from the past.
It had rained and Europe
had been washed clean,
revealing all frailty
in new colors.
Broken music takes me back
to the beat of war.
Maybe what we need in life
is some struggle.
Some hardship.
We are the limp generation.
Losers.
At a loss.
Suicidal and bored.
Failure and conformity
are our trademark.
We go through life
without leaving a mark.
Without honour at all.
The mushroom song
A tiny mushroom has cracked
the pavement open.
What soft enterprise
driven by the strength
capable of cutting stone and tar!
The drive to exist
that seems to dwindle in us
these days
like a flame beset by gales
of unknown origin.
A tiny mushroom has cracked
the pavement open
in its search for the sun
and the moisture nutritive.
Dew-scented thing...
a praise to life in itself
oblivious to hardship.
You are an inspiration to us all
who despair and toil
at our desks of futility.
the pavement open.
What soft enterprise
driven by the strength
capable of cutting stone and tar!
The drive to exist
that seems to dwindle in us
these days
like a flame beset by gales
of unknown origin.
A tiny mushroom has cracked
the pavement open
in its search for the sun
and the moisture nutritive.
Dew-scented thing...
a praise to life in itself
oblivious to hardship.
You are an inspiration to us all
who despair and toil
at our desks of futility.
You are easy to manipulate
You are easy to manipulate.
Perhaps, this is
because you are a manipulator
yourself.
Today I sat silent,
shut cryptic.
It was funny hearing you mumble
chit-chat questions
that I ignored.
Then you defaulted to sulk mode.
Predictable reaction.
I wonder now,
what course of action
will you take?
Is this making you fucked up?
Easy, my friend.
You just got the standard
treatment.
No feel special. No.
It's just a rainy Monday morning.
Perhaps, this is
because you are a manipulator
yourself.
Today I sat silent,
shut cryptic.
It was funny hearing you mumble
chit-chat questions
that I ignored.
Then you defaulted to sulk mode.
Predictable reaction.
I wonder now,
what course of action
will you take?
Is this making you fucked up?
Easy, my friend.
You just got the standard
treatment.
No feel special. No.
It's just a rainy Monday morning.
Sometimes I just pick my nose
sometimes I just pick my nose
for no reason.
It's just the anger pent up inside me,
I guess.
I pick the fuck out of my nose,
just like everyone does
at any given time in their life.
I love women in muscle shirts
and tank tops.
I love men that look like baffled shits
and find their vent
in road rage rants
rubbed the wrong way
for no reason.
It's just the anger pent up inside me,
I guess.
I pick the fuck out of my nose,
just like everyone does
at any given time in their life.
I love women in muscle shirts
and tank tops.
I love men that look like baffled shits
and find their vent
in road rage rants
rubbed the wrong way
You twat!
you twat!
you
fucking
twat!
Why you sittin on my porch?
go fuck off!
i aint no stranger to the death
of others, no sir!
you
fucking
twat!
Why you sittin on my porch?
go fuck off!
i aint no stranger to the death
of others, no sir!
Jaded
More jaded than a
lackluster divinity
on the eighth day,
with teary eyes
and a runny nose,
the excitement eludes me
and washes away,
ebbing like the tides
in the laziest afternoon.
No steel cable can hold
my wanderlust
or tie it up in performance appraisals
and consulting bonuses
lackluster divinity
on the eighth day,
with teary eyes
and a runny nose,
the excitement eludes me
and washes away,
ebbing like the tides
in the laziest afternoon.
No steel cable can hold
my wanderlust
or tie it up in performance appraisals
and consulting bonuses
Our stomaches ached
zero, the fuking culprit again.
What we had,
up to the meeting,
was zero, zilch, nada, nothing,
void**, null.
Our stomaches ached,
as the emptiness was acute.
The patterns in the tie
started to twirl and blur.
Probably too much coffee
and a nerve rack.
Another day, the definition
of victory
is a stalemate,
at best.
Sure, we can go on forever,
at least till
FYIFV,
but they dont give stock options no more
and nobody believes in bubbles
anymore
except a house in the west.
The sum total,
was zero.
We laughed and walked away.
Dont forget to turn off
the projector...
...when you are done
with your display of
(take air)
globalleadershipandstrategicthinkingandblueoceanstrategyandpartnering
Oh, by the way,
that powerpoint is wrong...
What we had,
up to the meeting,
was zero, zilch, nada, nothing,
void**, null.
Our stomaches ached,
as the emptiness was acute.
The patterns in the tie
started to twirl and blur.
Probably too much coffee
and a nerve rack.
Another day, the definition
of victory
is a stalemate,
at best.
Sure, we can go on forever,
at least till
FYIFV,
but they dont give stock options no more
and nobody believes in bubbles
anymore
except a house in the west.
The sum total,
was zero.
We laughed and walked away.
Dont forget to turn off
the projector...
...when you are done
with your display of
(take air)
globalleadershipandstrategicthinkingandblueoceanstrategyandpartnering
Oh, by the way,
that powerpoint is wrong...
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