Estoy cansado, he escrito mucho en inglés y me mata mucho pensar en ese pinche adorable odioso idioma. Pero ni modo, es una carga génetica que llevo denro. Ni modo de hacerme un operación plástica por ello. :::::::::::::::::::::::::::::
Read MoreThoughts galore
Boy! Been working on this last poem and it sure seems to always need some improvement. Even when I am moderately satisfied with it I go back and give it a second look. I try to be consistent with the images that the words convey. I guess loathing…
Read MoreStockholm Rucks
Taking an aimless stroll Through these tacit atmospheres I gaze about aloof Near throngs of people by Slowly making headway An halcyon wanders into view A solace embraces my senses That wavers through and by Along noised urban voices People sway to and…
Read MoreSolivagant
The pavement was like any other, black. Sand blended with dirt could be seen strewn on the surface. Strolling along its path, George, with his hands inside his pockets, noticed a kiwi smashed well into the rocky asphalt leaving a distinct green color…
Read MoreDuring the high moon season, the beaches are empty, and for once, the stretch of water belongs to the natives. It is at these times that Horuniku takes strolls along the edges of the sand where the waves of the sea are thrown ashore. The feeling is one…
Read MoreRupert and Albert had just come in the house and as Albert went straight ahead to the flower base he had bought yesterday he restarts examining his new prized object, a flower base from the Ding Dinasty. Rupert headed for the fridge when suddemly Albert…
Read MoreUnder mounting pressure his self tries to liberate from the net of false presuppositions that entangled him into an orgy of angst and guilt. ” Did I say that right?” Did they think I was too chatty, did they find me repugnant?” These…
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