Thursday, March 29, 2007

Nostalgia Egoista

Tus recuerdos me asaltan

en el momento más inesperado

del día o de la noche.

Son recuerdos

como nubes dispersas,

como manchas de tinta,

como algodón de azúcar,

como plumas volando,

como un amor incierto,

como una poesía inédita,

como un grito ahogado,

como un beso reprimido

o como una melodía

que nadie se atreve a cantar.

Son la sensación pasada

de tus besos apasionados,

de tus caricias cuidadosas,

de tus palabras enamoradas

que me hacían temblar y reír,

soñar y escribir…

Porque mis pasiones imprudentes

nuca tuvieron control

entre tus brazos,

y mi subconsciente egoísta

pensó qu estarías

siempre ahí para mí.


Written in 2000

Monday, March 26, 2007

Celos

Quiero saber qué ha cambiado detrás de tus ojos,

pero tú ya no eres capaz de sostener mi mirada,

de cualquier forma sé que sólo vería

el rostro de ella reflejado en tus ojos,

igual que exala alegría tu sonrisa

cuando ella se digna a mirarte.

Sé que la quieres como jamás me querrás,

como jamás te querré…

sé que la besas como jamás me besaste,

porque yo conozco tus besos, pero no tu amor.

Te atreviste a desearme sin amarme

y alguna vez me dolió,

pero tu temor a desearme, amándola

lastima mi orgullo y me parte el corazón.

Tu anhelo de sus ojos, verdes,

no me quita el aliento,

ni la vida ni el calor,

pero alimenta mis celos, mi orgullo

y mis deseos de posesión.

El ansia de mis besos, cálidos,

no te quita la calma,

ni la cordura, ni la razón,

pero alimenta tu miedo

de nunca alcanzar su amor.

Brillando en tus ojos el reflejo dorado de su cabello,

te imagino corriendo tras sus huellas…

yo no daré ni un paso por llegar a ti.

Así te estrelles contra el muro de su indiferencia

o te hundas en las aguas tibias de su amor…

yo no daré ni un paso por llegar a ti.

¡Grítale a los vientos que la amas!

pero no dejes que ellos soplen martirios en mi corazón

como soplan en las caracolas canciones de amor.

¡Grítale a los vientos que la amas!

pero no permitas que me susurren al oído

pesadillas de tus sueños de hacerle el amor

¡Grítale a los vientos que la amas!

pero prívame por siempre de sentir el fresco viento de verano

soplar en mi rostro anhelos de libertad

¡Grítale a los vientos que la amas!

pero el viento no me arrastrará más a la deriva

como a una hoja seca,

pero el viento no formará más en mi olas

como lo hace sobre el mar.

Con cada respiro, con cada latido,

con cada tic-tac del reloj

me siento apartada,

me siento de más.

Proyecta tu amor por ella

en la luz de la luna,

grábalo en el sonido del mar

¡Grítenle a los cuatro vientos

que se aman,

y déjenme en paz!



Written in 1999

Olor a ti

Esta noche huelo
a tu recuerdo
impregnado en mi piel.

Huelo
a pasión de besos reprimidos,
a marea, a viento y a sal,
a naranja luna llena.

Esta noche huelo
a necesidad de abrazos
a sueños y a desvelo,
al perfume de tu sonrisa
que colándose en mi mirada
se filtró en mi alma.

Esta noche huelo a ti.

Written February 2001
Edited March 2006
Pictures by Eric @
Parque Omar, Summit, and El Prado,
Panama 2001.

Saturday, March 24, 2007

Link to We are the Other People by Oberon Zell Ravenheart

En honor al hecho de que hoy tocaron a mi puerta a las 9:30 de la man'ana dos testigos de jehova encamisados y con sus respectivos maletines to try to shove their guilt and need for redemption down my throath ... y, obviamente, me despertaron de un placido suen'o ... en el que me estaba besando con, ni mas ni menos, que John Stamos .... he decidido hoy compartir el link to:
"We are the other people"
If you have never read this astounding, now classical pagan writing piece, do yourself a favor and give it a shot... maybe next time somebody tries to "evangelize" you, you'll have a come back.

Friday, March 23, 2007

Tackling the cliche question: What would you do if you were dying soon?

If I was told that I have a limited time to live, I would live more fully the present. I would forget about all my long term plans. I would not finish college. I would not even think about graduate school, or marriage, or having children. I would not save to buy a better car. I would spend more time with my friends and family. I would go back home. I would spend my time reading, writing, and contemplating nature – the ocean, the forests, and the mountains. I would eat more of my grandmother’s delicious dishes. I would keep on dancing, if I was healthy enough to do it. I would dance and write about living and dying.

I constantly try to live my life intensely, to appreciate each and every moment. Nevertheless, it is a very different thing to try to be grateful and glad for everything you experience, as if it was your last chance, than to know it for sure. It makes you wonder why we push ourselves through so many unpleasant moments for the sake of the future, if the truth is that we could die any moment for the simple reason that we are alive.

Written July 2006

With the certainty of death would surely also come the need for transcendence. I would probably turn unto writing more than ever before in my life. I would probably feel that my words would outlive me. I would thrive in the hope that, although I might be gone, anybody could pick up my writings and still listen to my voice, still share my thoughts, still get to know me. I once read a quote, whose author I have forgotten, that went something like this: “Sharing what we know is as close as we can get to immortality.”

If I had the money to travel, I would certainly try to go to as many places, off that list we all keep of places we would like to visit one day, as possible. I would visit Morocco and the pyramids in Egypt. I would dance in India and in Cuba. I would soak in and absorb Spain, France, Italy, Greece, and Turkey. I would marvel at Hawaii and Madagascar. If I had the health to do it, I would finally set onto those backpacking trips through Europe and South America I have been postponing since I graduated from high school.

It is difficult to think about what one would do in such a situation without actually feeling the need for doing all those things we are not doing, without feeling like we are wasting our time. Even as I try to imagine what I would do, I am avoiding being fully aware of the fact that, in fact, I could die tomorrow, and so could any of the people I love. Maybe we have to prepare for the long term, with all the sacrifices doing so entails, because it is the only way of pretending that our lives are not as fragile as they truly are.

Thursday, March 15, 2007

Make Love not War this Season - a plea for peace

I shall not talk in this essay about any specific political circumstances. I will not argue about the rightness or wrongness of any particular war or battle. I will, instead, state my utmost reject for violence, for the slaughter of human beings by other human beings, for wars anywhere and under any circumstances. For as Erasmus said in the dawn of civilization: “War is delightful only to those who have not experienced it.”

People may think that there are moral justifications for the war on Iraq, for what happened in Vietnam, for World War II. But I believe there is simply no justification for war. Independences have been declared and accepted peacefully before. And non-violent battles, such as that of India against Britain, have also been successful. War is no way of showing who is right and who is wrong, only who is left. For nobody can convince anybody that those who win the wars are always the “good guys.” There are those who believe war is a fair punishment for those who somehow “deserve it”, or a good stratagem for revenge. I, on the other hand, agree with Thomas Jefferson: “war is as much a punishment to the punisher as it is to the sufferer” – ask the mothers of the soldiers who died in Afghanistan.

Unbelievably, at least to me, there is people who think war is, sometimes, the only way to peace. But, as A.J Muste stated, “there is no way to peace, peace is the way.” Even Albert Einstein assured us of an undeniable truth: “You cannot simultaneously prepare for and prevent war.” A poster I once saw sated: “Fighting for peace is like fucking for virginity.” It cracked me up, but I also nodded in wholehearted agreement. War is no solution, it only brings on more trauma – hate only provokes a vicious cycle of hate. Nobody ever put it as straight forward as Mahatma Gandhi: “An eye for an eye makes the whole world blind.”

Where do our personal, religious, and moral values stand? Don’t at least most followers of the three big monotheist religions believe in “Thou shall not kill”? “Can anything be stupider than that a man has the right to kill me because he lives on the other side of a river and his ruler has a quarrel with mine, though I have not quarreled with him?”, said Blaise Pascal. Risking being morbidly radical, I will quote Abbie Hoffman: “I believe in compulsory cannibalism. If people were forced to eat what they killed there would be no more war.”

The atrocities of war, especially in this nuclear era, should not even be a possibility in this time of “civilized” peoples and conscious evolution. Ever heard that slogan: War is Terrorism with a bigger budget? If you ever saw your city burst in flames under the bombing aircrafts, if you ever saw images of the Holocaust or from Hiroshima, you must agree. Plus, aren’t there so many better things we could be investing our resources in instead of waging war on each other? (How about the one that went: Buy books not bombs?) Wouldn’t it be better to try to find a cure for AIDS, or a solution for hunger and starvation? Dwight Eisenhower said it loud and clear: "Every gun that is made, every warship launched, every rocket fired, signifies in a final sense a theft from those who hunger and are not fed—those who are cold and are not clothed. This world in arms is not spending its money alone—it is spending the sweat of its laborers, the genius of its scientists, the hopes of its children."

Written in July 2006