A year already

The year rolled over me

Leaving joy and misshaps

Longing for gentle April

Solo Un Tonto

Only a Fool

Could commit on this Spring day 
To a full month of Poetry

Everglades

In the wintery waters

A turtle, dove. 

And the dove flew away. 

Thank You for a Great Month

To all who went into the labyrinth
The daily Riyaaz and Poems in hand
Happy workers' day

C'est tout, Baltimore.

It is about time
To chase each other's eyes
And look at what we have done
It has been a long time
Thirty days
Almost fourteen years
A blink of the sight
A wind-whirl through time
Of living, learning,
Giving and loving
Above all, receiving
It is a moment to move on
To close these verses
To pack the wagons
Saddle the horses
And move to another town.
Literally.

To ADG :)

La Noche

An angel came down
He gave me a hand
He held firm
Stretched his arms
Dug deep into me
For the dormant self
The happy me
The latent force
And pulled hard
Strong
Until he saved me

Les Trains du Pays

Eclectic
Beaux-artsian
Perpetually reinvented
From a glorious past
To this post industrial
Being
Dysfunctional
Between the cracks
Of what is public
Of what is private
This building stands
Against weather
And unrest
As a witness
Of high ideals
And pedestrian anecdotes
I visit it daily
For now
And I stare
At its beauty
And I cannot
I really cannot
Understand how
How is it
How is it possible
They got the trains so
So
Wrong.

NapTime

It is a chilly
And sunny afternoon
Home is calm
And baby snoozing
Dreaming of far
Far away places
With his birdie friends
Chasing some fish
Rocking the waves

It's not

It is not a comet

Circling on a distant sun

It is not a paint

Swirled by an impressionist

It is a welcome back gift

From a pious passing bird

Storm

The wind hustles outside
Shaking house and limbs
Windows quiver and wail.
'Trees are moving a lot, dadi'
'Trees are moving'
And why do you think they move?
'They are happy, dadi,
That's why the move'

A mi tía.

Hace nueve años

Ella dijo basta

Nunca supe bien 

De su vida 

Y su fé

Pero siempre supe

Que amó a las tres

Y no encontró su salida

Su salida a pie

A la rutina dura

A la fractura de su ser

Las dejó solas

Tan jóvenes las tres

Pero dentro de ellas

Ella vive y crea

Y crea alegría

La alegría que supo ser. 

un beso, Coca.

Steady

Steady step
Step ahead
Ahead and back
In circles around
Gayly forward
Nowhere in mind.

Anonymity

Watch people walk

Their paths in life

Leave art as gifts

Sol

I like the sun
Because it warms my tummy,
He said after smiling

Las Flores /18

Our spring delight
Colours and shapes became
Of those bulbs I planted late

NightArt /19

Rain or shine
Art stands firm and proud
Day and night

Class /17

Commuter class

Dressed with blue suit

On fluorescent yellow

Sole shoes

Nice

Classy

Walk

Walk the doggies
Down the park
Memories flushing
Down my mind
Hope his soul
Rests in peace
We are all you Martin
And you little souls like him
Unfair the world we live in.

Silent Night

And dark night too

For another infant

who's little big innocent life

was cut short

today

As many in recent days

weeks

months

Hug your loved ones

In this silent night

Mind Escape

sometimes i feel 

that i'm propelled forward 

by a powerful tide force behind me 

yet i cannot control or steer 

overwhelmingly strong 

built of family empowering and friend support 

and own expectations 

and sickening perfectionism

i feel i am not the one 

at the helm 

at the tiller

common place to be

a viewpoint

maybe i should break free

drop the camera

trim those sails

and embrace the wind

Chesapeake Bay,  Mind Escape on a Sunny Sunday

To Virginia, for intentionally unaware suggested the title

number eight, his favorite shirt

number one, our first baby

number two, he is a big boy now.

Rain

It is not the wind
Or rain, but passion for change
That moves our spring thoughts

Titles

Still Magnolias

Soon gone with the aprilian winds

In the sands of time

words take me for a ride

yet perhaps

as i'm not in the spring of my life

i read and i fly away 

muffled

and find it hard to write 

to concentrate

as not expecting anything

from the words

from the long line of words

from the long grid of words

but from time to time

i get a jolt

a volt

a not small joy

in suddenly finding

that i can learn again 

and i take that invitation

again

from that word  

for a ride

Next Morning

The Sun came up
Again
Surprised
Too fast
He runs in and out
Grapes on one
Little
Hand
Waving everybody
The other
But everybody
Is only me
Me thinks
He runs
To play
I run
To work
Separated
Far appart
At least for both
The Sun is up.

Breath

Run run run
Pedal pedal pedal
Train choo choo tchus
Breath
Tomorrow is another day.

In between two moments

In between the lights

We live and we love

And we play and we cry

In between two moments

the dusk and the night

I find my peace 

Where I found my heart

(to Tiki)

My Urban Explorer

Explorer of life

Early in his path

Opened to Life.

What Life

Has for him

We only can guess

Together we will walk

His first few steps

His steps few first

we will happily share

Then we will share

What he finds out there.

shapes and color scream to mespringtime is here.

I live as I am

My feelings wave and back

Like at dusk a murmur

A wave of life.

A weaving life

Such is what I got

I mesh love and work

Blindly as I fly.

Asudden my boy smiles

Lighting up the night.

(2013 April 4th - Train station)

Freak of nature
twice the twice
a month's rainfall
in some few hours
changes the landscapes
alters the minds
makes life hard for some
takes it away for others.
And for those others' families
my thoughts
tonight
my thoughts.
And my rage
for my country
that chews its people,
grinds them to a halt.

street view
same feeling always
april the second
nausea
sadness
tragedy
just kids
my age
1982
death
nonsense death
premature death
perpetuating
in time
of times
nauseating
my country

In this new April
walking out of the season
with the strengthen spirit
with all our angels
with our cold nose,
and the messy head
I pause for
things that past
things to come,
great things all.
But in silence and respect
for those that are gone
I gather in this
open space
to celebrate them all.

Here it is coming,
slowly yet definitive

NaPoWrImO 2013 . . . 

April 1st.

http://www.napowrimo.net/

*Yapa

April Thirtieth,
My baby's Twenty First month of life
Celebrated with his drawing
Celebrated circles, eyes, zigzags, coherent lines, dots
I cannot say when he started, few months ago?
But like all in his development
Suddenly you focus your attention, and there it is
The proof of coordination
Of meaning
Of intent
For the untrained eye
This section of the greater drawing is unintelligible
For the parent's eye
There is life in it
I share the life in him and in his drawing
Today, last day of this year's get-your-poet-out-of-the-woodwork
Tomorrow, first day in May, celebration for workers day
We will be celebrating with our baby art worker
"And thanks for all the fish"










*yapa = Argentinean for "an extra one,  free, as an act of kindness"

Flow, No End

Poems clean my soul

Poems nurture my mind

Like rivers in Spring 

Cravings

Clouds, rains and colds.

Subtle ways for Spring

To make us crave for Summer

Anguish

The night

Awakes my baby with tears.

No apparent cause

Just tears.

Alone he was

Wet in tears.

On my chest he rests

Full in tears.

We are born alone

He says in tears.

Dadai, cuddle me:

They are gone those fears.







 

Number Nine

27, 18, 36, 09, 72 multiples of number nine

An old numbers trick around number nine

Add the two digits to get number nine

Always, number nine

magic

a dolphin's passing ghost 

wreaks magic in a childs mind

splish, water sounds, splash

Amarilla / Yellow

"te regalo una flor

que encontré en el camino"

cantaba Nico mientras cortaba una flor del jardín

extendiendo su manita,

sus ojitos dulces,

su voz que repetía

Pápa!

"I give you a flower

that I found by the road"

sang Nico while picking a flower from the yard

reaching with his little hand

with his soft eyes

with his voice repeating

Pappa!

discussions around a cup of coffee

an argument in its right

rebukes an opposing thought

crossing each other in the night

Monday

is it Monday a day,

or the wish of a new begining,

or the bad consequence of a good weekend?

drops of rain

my son

He met the rain today

more like He was annoyed by it

confused by the feeling of wet and cold

and Cold was the word He recently learned

and Cold got tagged also to the rain

and his mind is swirling

and his eyes

squinting

confusion

dead awake

lively asleep

which is which so late?

appropriations

decisions of State

will never be questioned

arbitrary or not

missed

doubling up
at sunny train station
for yesterday's miss

noche

el dulce sueño

del niñito dormido

endulza la noche

sweet dream

by little boy asleep

sweetens night

Power of Radio

three women share

with courage, integrity and humanity

one woman's hope for cure

contar to count

since

april fifteen

my baby now counts

uno, dos, tres...

waving his hand in the air

uno, dos...

smiling surprised at his new skill

uno...

showing proudly how old he is now

 

dreams

he sleeps on the floor

breathing rhythmically lips parted

little prince dreaming

from tonights visiting poet, mi sweet wife

imagine

all around me all

my friends are having babies

one, two, three, surprise

all around me all

my boy and my wife

and i imagine us

 

 

 

 

image: robert-doisneau-1943-le-remorqueur-du-champ-de-mars

 

 

 

 

 

icecicles

lost for two days

phone found in the freezer

was winter in spring

 

delicias

las manitas gordas

junto con su voz ronquita

juegan con la guitarra

his chunky hands

along with his husky voice

play on the guitar

 

nite nite

first come the stories

then the songs, note after note

in my arms sleeps a boy

 

 

o

Lúnes otra vez

Noche oscura y silenciosa

Tarde, tarde, con mi poesía

Monday again

Dark and silent night

Late, late, with my poetry

 

 

 

on Nico's learning

dolphins in the wild

dolphins in the aquarium

one conflicted mind

far and away

dolphins by Grannie's home

waters, swamp and sea

a mere mile away

a promise of protection

acquits their bondage?

Easter-n

Eastern News today

It is snowing in Leipzig

Here, Blossom colors

f l e x i n g

A poem a day

Daily word excercises

Sweat, my neurons, sweat!

Sixth

Rothko, opaque light

Shines on my Sleepy eyes

Here's my poem tonight

 

Origins

long ago I, a child
running high mountains and plains
sprouting dreams and strengths




Anannya Dasgupta, contributor to the Daily Riyaaz (http://napowrimo2012.blogspot.com/), gave me a little primer on Haikus in English language and highlighted the need to focus on the economy of words, not the syllable metric. The English atvatar in her words, would better be synthesis in her proposed version. I keep both version as a testimony to learning. Thanks Annanya!!!

long ago a child
running high mountains
sprouted dreams

Nico

many winters passed

before i found who to love

now my son is here

 

Napo Three or Throos?

many goose are geese

but many moose are not meese

love that mines are yours

Napo Two

War drums sang aloud

No Fletcher Memorial in sight

Thirty years tonight

Napo One

It's NaPoWriMonth

Spring's April fool for many

Serious for poets

Voor Borboleta

Voor Borboleta
Originally uploaded by clearwater.

July 2007

From the river banks leading to Rotterdam, the wading bird lifted off, circled me as giving me signals, blinked his eye and flew away.

I knew immediately who he was talking to.

Zeker.

:o)

Sheep/dog shearing

Sheep shearing
Originally uploaded by andriagirlie.

This is what I did to my dog 2 months ago . . .. besides the difference in scale of work, the image was kind of the same!!!
I got 2.25 pounds of hair out of the little beast puppy!
I'll get it back to spin by the end of July . . ..

Feliz Año Nuevo para Tutti!

Feliz Año Nuevo para Tutti!
Originally uploaded by clearwater.

Welll, we decided, Fofó and I, to spend the last day of the year 2006 on the slopes of West Virginia. It is far far away west, from Baltimore, but in this age of climate change, it is the only place to have snow in this region. 1500 meters of altitude within the clouds.

But we loved it, and here is his profile after having played in the snow, "that strange white stuff that is funny to my paws".
Some pictures of him, and me, and ...

Happy New Year 2007!

Primera Tomografía de mi Sobrina/o

Primera Ecografía de mi Sobrina/o
Originally uploaded by clearwater.

Cecilia fue a que le hicieran la primera ecografía de la pancita y Nano me mandó los resultados en fotos.

Ya se le ve con todas sus presitas!!!!!

Essssaaaa!

mmmmmmmmmmmmmmmmmmmmmmmm para mediados de julio sabremos .. .

Mi Buenos Aires Querido . . .

Río de La Plata, Delta del Paraná, Costanera Buenos Aires
Originally uploaded by clearwater.

Un año ha pasado desde que aterricé en tus tierras con Paulette.
Un año y se extraña.

Last night I dreamed I was there. I had taken a blitz flight leaving everything here, and I felt I had never left.
Suddenly, rowing with my Mom in the Tigre I started talking to her about how beautiful is to leave and be back, but suddenly I remembered in the dream, that I had my life in Baltimore, with my house, my puppy, my love. How to make both compatible?
How to be part of both sides at the same time?
How?
How???
Being in BA I had the revelation that I would miss my life in the northen region.
And as it happened just a couple of time before in dreams, I started to dream solutions, try scenarios, try alternatives.

I just remember one, because it came as a surprise: live 6 months in each place!!!

How can I do it?
Which season to pick? Summer-Summer? Winter-Winter?

I love these dreams. I have a glympse of what it would be like to live as an Athshean, in Ursula LeGuin's "The Word for World is Forest"

more on the Athsheans:
http://en.wikipedia.org/wiki/The_Word_for_World_is_Forest
more on Ursula:
http://www.kirjasto.sci.fi/leguin.htm


...cuando yo te vuelva a ver!!!

and then there was light ...

and then there was light ...,
originally uploaded

by clearwater.

It is a really big industry . . . plant trees, pines, spruces, firs, let them grow a little and then, Kaput ! Cut them to be sold in December, each year.
After the holly days, the trash collectors pass on certain dates to collect all the dead trees.
I don't know what they do with the corpses. Mulch? Compost?
Several questions come to my mind:
How big is the surface used to plant these trees?
What's the volume of the market?
What's the environmental impact of this industry?

At this point, when I took the picture, I was enjoying the momento a lot, with mi Paulette, JC the esculptor and our dogs.
My brother Nano had visited us and in the morning before leaving to Hamburgo we went to pick a tree for the Kbin. A Frazer Fir tall as a person stands in the Kbin's deck, now completlely lighted for the occasion.

Happy Xmas. . .not yet, thou we are getting ready.

Flickr

This is a test post from , a fancy photo sharing thing.

red diamonds

I don't know if it was because of the reading of the short story of the crabs late at night or what, but I had a funny dream where I was carrying red and clear small diamonds in a small plastic bag with ziplog all over the place. I had to give it to somebody in payment for something else.

I assumed that the little bag was worth a lot, so I found myself walking in the middle of Buenos Aires and asking myself, if I was crazy of what, not having this diamonds deposited in a vault, more secured, instead of heving them in my jacket pocket in the middle of the street!!!!!

Maybe it's better to be hidden in large numbers than been an obivous carrier of something valuable! Other than your own life, of course, that in the past century and in this, has been and it is such a a low cost commodity.

"eCompanies on the Island"

I found it. I can't believe it yet.

Russian short stories translated into english.

http://home.freeuk.com/russica4/

What sent me into the search? eBay buys Skype, Yahoo buys Flickr, Google buys Blogger, Mr.Portenho has the bad idea to update to the new blogger's site and an hour lost to try to login again.

The result is the text in english of Anatoly Dneprov titled "Crabs on the Island" (Крабы идут по острову) about an experiment with robotic crabs that evolve from a simple first specimen landed an island in the middle of nowhere. This specimen has the ability to reproduce itself eating metal burried across the island.

The result . . . I invite you to read the text. But the evolution of a fake crab population could resemble pretty much to the industrial organization process seen in the eBussiness, where small little companies are being absorbed by other who grow fat and then they migh eat each other.

The text can be downloaded from http://home.freeuk.com/russica4/books/cafe/crabs_w6.rar

Found some pictures of Anatoly Dneprov (11.18.1919-1975 ) for whom I didn't have a face, and ilustrations of the story. Data on Dneprov at http://193.40.240.76/sfbooks/teosed.asp?autor=327&krit=Vorm

I also found a paper in which this story and "Nitrogen"by Primo Levi are used to evaluate the ability of short stories to teach science (http://www.pantaneto.co.uk/issue12/negrete.htm)

Very Cool!

I want to thank the President of the Internet!!!!