Mastuerbate When You're Home Alone

Chile already said goodbye and now I'm a week and northern Argentina. As time is short to write this Blogtotal Blogsearch, I turn one last time to Neruda and Everything But Target is kept alive. It is one of the texts that I liked the book Song of Gesta.

not ask me

They call this human issue some

with names and wailing

not concerned in the pages of my books,

not give writing my verses:

say that poetry died here,

some say I should not do:

the truth is I'm not liked,

greet them and I take my hat

and left traveling on Parnassus

happy

like rats on cheese.

I belong to another category

and am only a man of flesh and blood,

so if they beat my brother

with what I have to hand the defending

and every one of my lines has

danger or iron powder,

that will fall on the inhuman,

on cruel, on the proud.

But the chastisement of my peace furious

no threat to the poor or good:

with my flashlight looking for those who fall

their injuries and relief

the close:

and these are the offices of the poet

Flyer and stonemason:

must do something in this

land

because on this planet gave birth

and we must arrange things men

because we are not birds or dogs.

Well, if I hate when attacked,

or when I sing all I want,

poetry wants to leave

the hopes of my manifesto

I follow my law tables

star

accumulating arms

hard

and American duty

I do not care about a rose:

I have a covenant of love with the beauty:

I have a blood covenant with my people.

-Pablo Neruda (1960)

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not ask me die slowly

VALDIVIA .- A while ago I updated the blog so I take I'm in Chile to climb some of Neruda. A few days ago I was walking home in Valpo and also this text is quite what was my 2010, owed.

die slowly

slowly dies who becomes the slave of habit, repeating every day the same itineraries, who does not change brand, does not risk to wear a new color and does not speak to who do not know.

she who shuns passion, who prefers black on white, dot the "i" to a whirlpool of emotions, just those that recover the gleam of the eyes, smiles from the yawns, hearts from the stumbling and feelings.

He or she who does not overthrow the table when is unhappy at work, who does not risk the certain for the uncertain to go after a dream, who does not allowed at least once in his life to flee from sensate advises.

He or she who does not travel, does not read, does not listen to music, who does not laugh at yourself.

He who slowly destroys his own, who did not even try.

Dies slowly he who passes his days complaining of his bad luck or the incessant rain.

Dies slowly he who abandons a project before starting it, not asking a question that is unknown or not responding when asked about something he knows.

prevent death in soft quotes, remembering always that to be alive demands an effort much larger than the simple fact of breathing.

Only a burning patience will conquer the splendid happiness

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FLYING WITH LEAVES ...

From this mild winter, for the moment that leads me to introspection, the gathering in the warm home .... With all the charm that carries the station but also how long it is ...
At that point, which is repeated year after year, the witch start packing to fly to those summers that start elsewhere and I will shorten a bit the European winter so precious, but so long and chill! .. .
'll keep in touch with the blog from where I am, but I will not make promises that can be broken, hopefully not having trouble connecting from time to time and tell some of that wonderful Peru I personally adore.
for a month will visit all that the time scope and return full of interesting memories to bring you up here.



THE WIND BLOWS

PLAY WITH IT JUST

IN SWIRLS



were gently agitated RISES UNTIL
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Magi ...

While blue remains alive in the hearts, hope keeps us children in many ways ... For example: The night of kings, who with his magic cloak covers every corner of ourselves, today is the day, though years to reach me, I can not avoid the emotion that a parade of kings gives me, not is the fact the ride itself, it is the sediment left in my heart that those other ... those of a happy childhood that my parents always Bless! were able to give me and full of magic. So many camels
drew on the balcony, many kings took his glass of campagne, nougat and ate our left hand a flood of gifts ... They come up to my memories of countless shining shoes in front of the fireplace year after year waiting on the carpet six pairs ... six children who dreamed of the morning, praying that the night was short ...
heart I wish that today's parents give children those delicious moments leading up to the gifts, in fact 90% of illusion lay precisely in them ...
gifts we are not flooded, as now, but each were used and enjoyed without missing a beat, I think now the kids are lost in a maelstrom of gifts that makes them lose hope of exploring one in particular ... and are forgotten at the first opportunity where were those weekend games throughout the year, with the "Games Geipan meeting!" Repeated every year as a general gift, it would use the smashing and were essential to family game ... Surely
for today's children remains a wonderful day ... But you must give thank you very much for not knowing who lives in my memory today ... not stand the comparison!

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HAPPY NEW YEAR 2011 ...