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Perritos callejeros
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La nueva recta
sera llegar a todo o nada
aquello que no habia llegado en carro
llegara por tierra, mar y agua
y yo me encuentro en la frontera
en la frontera
Solo estare segura de quien eras
cuando te acuestes en el monte
y lo camines con quien quieras
Cuando sea nuestro el sol
o sea nuestro cielo al que miremos
ahi te tomare del corazon
Y alli convertire todo en un juego
en la estacion acuerdate, te espero
y aquel que atente a ese lugar
lo atraparemos,
veras como lo haremos
A una porcion de nuestro azar ardiente,
al cual nos uniremos,
como un collar a un cuello
como la lluvia fina a la luz
y no la dejaremos
Aquel amor que espera
espera y tiene tardes, noches
y una inmensidad de horas a solas
pero en la hora que no viaja
avanza en pasos dobles
no frena porque piensa y no me escapa
Sera como aquel redespertar de un sueño roto
cuando en el aire presa de un viento,
la paloma vuela lento y bajo
para correr el riesgo de un encuentro
no hay nadie mas furioso
que un amor pomposo
que cuando tiene sueños
con angeles
o clima temerosos
Aguardo entre los rieles
y caminos que cambian lo que siento
No creo que me escuches
yo quiero ser feliz
en la frontera
A love with no poem
A love with no kiss
A love with no hands
A love with no breath
A love without fresh air
A love with no commitment
A love with no sex
A love with no food
mayo 2012
occurred against prior notice
lower will remain lower
with all the possible aversions
comes a new set of sentiments
against my will
I lock myself
into the safest heaven
and an ideal naked gift
my bets can testify I’m lucid
I never knew how to impose my faith
but never blame me to control
a one that puts all perfect storms into a spur
giving me orders
to how I should
or how I best
times of uncertainty I guess
are good for changes
she says all soon and pushes
the rebound is the money
undermining confidence
intentions turn to rules
at last they govern some of us
when there is order in the world
my fragile mess is stronger than
the pillars of history
I will defend me
and I will live a life with regards only to hearts
and care about what’s mine
without the notice of a war
I win because I live in conflict
but certainly my biggest rise is tension
not my time
having to trade my local price
for that I’ll sell what nobody can buy
Jezabel Cohen
1:38
26 april 2012
yumuseum: IN MEMORIUM - A SONG FOR THE DISASTER Today marks 100 years since the disastrous sinking of the Titanic, a name tragically resonant in the popular memory and imagination. Yet, with this much time, the tragedy is more historical fact than much else. Keep in mind that this sinking came at a moment when millions of people were streaming from Europe to America aboard much smaller and less robust ships. The crossing, though routine, was never 100% safe. This cover from the sheet music for a Yiddish-language song hints at the significance of the Titanic tragedy in 1912: an image of a couple embracing, possibly immigrants on their way to meet family and settle in a new land, their journey cut short. They’re martyred, but at least they’re crowned in heaven. Indeed, the concept of martyrdom is hinted at by the Yiddish title, “Churban” which can mean disaster, but also sacrifice.
Hurban Titanic (The Titanic’s Disaster) Yiddish Sheet Music, copyright 1912 Lyrics: Solomon Small (Smulewitz) Collection of YIVO Institute Thank ludmirermoyd! Sheet music for “Khurbn Titanik, oder Der Naser Keyver” (“The Titanic’s Disaster, or the Watery Grave”), 1912.
heartwood people
never ever a way to inspire
people years by
wrap around with self
in metal, in idioms
take our tongue and thirst
and drink us
manipulate all kinds of shape
or sound
and see on its duration
there be time;
but just for being
among the rituals of the world
with soft and jagged ways
we are talking like walking
in classic forms
and poetic formulas
popular and easy
we are walking like dreaming
we are aquamarine
we can float, we were floating all this time
and now enough!
How can we fit into the smallest places?
It is no time for hiding
outer barks are falling under us
and somebody before was capable of understanding
the premise was to wrap around
after the barks were falling…
the only problem in production are all changes
we cannot afford to see
but also say that we are blind
in roots and moods of being precious
Let time sing for a heroe!
Federacion Argentina de Box
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Federacion Argentina de Box
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(via nevver)
thoughts became one thing
shaping them at any corner of the planet
at any time is in vain
any park inside a city is a pity
at any place two meters above my head
can hung the moon
by cables and wires
and touch, touch
within the eyes and ears and light years away
remembering how clear all was once
remembering the face of all the men
the same people
remember them, we were like family
a city of a family
a city of people recognized and known
I declare to them a war!
political, mental, physical
as their sounds belongs to lands
to resting lands
rain drops and a tear
each one can sound
in letters, words and fears
needing each other
my body tremble
I know, I know
you aren’t snow
you aren’t white
but you melt only in my arms
not when you touch the ground
not when you fall inside me
we will wind all the films
to stop these movies
these empty pictures
we will love!
and live as if tomorrow
a sky would fall upon another
and deep seas dancing to a second sky
and I will wrap my skin in silky mud
and I would slipper on the ground
till where the silkworms are
and feel so warm, feel close!
then slowly with my running toes
and faster I will be coming
inside all our holes
we’ll eat us from the eye
we’ll tell all that we saw before
and then again return
again, again
I’ll watch you from outside
the worm alive in me
the one that comes
and never leaves
I’m as parallel and short
to stumbling blocks in one street
I’ll take my time
to have you walking by me
no bird will come out with no song
no man will stand without his weight or soul
the one that can be butterfly
the one that can go swim
that one that dance and looks so little
that one will not be me
and long live triples
doubles and fourths
but mostly all the music notes
that sound so filtered and altered
in a world of echoes
in a world with a rotten voice
a site with ringing sounds
and when repeated
perhaps as transparent as water
tracing, looking after
following a gripping touch
a persistent call
breathing us,
believing I’m what is not