Watch Nightmare Campus Streaming

( "Bodies", art exhibition, Ventosa Antonio Blanco )

While you're not I can knit and unravel old poems
Of those that no longer serve
cosértelos back to cutting my soul to your needs
I can baste the world in
threads that melt in the attempt to find
between despair and the desire
in the absolute power of your memory this
in rhyme of your languages \u200b\u200band in the distance of your cries
and break a phrase in poems, while you're away.

While you're not I can shield the heart and try to get you
Searching for you on the banks of the thousand rivers where you warp your letters
in the heady moments where you will not find
where I care more about the truths

the marvels of fiction that weaves sweet realities.
I can give joy to my busy solitude
In the perpetual sound of your silence
me bitter condemnation of the scope of your absence.

Not in any of my miraculous signs of idealism in each cosmos
or I walk,
or in the depths of your seas
in the regions are not lost,
celestial vapors or the thickness of my forest
're not anywhere where I used to find you.

While I can try tejerte are not my accomplice
night Tangos walking my kisses and Night
but are not now in my hands or my empty
disputes sung to the dismay of your nights
or the geometry of my hemispheres absurd
or the mythological awe of your songs
anyway my sun, while I can dream you're not
I can sing a thousand verses
although the death cry
die to get you because you are not,
anywhere.

Music:

do not do anything but think of you-Serrat

Was Jimi Hendrix Half White

Miss you ...

Photography Anne Geddes

Miss, tell me, how he smiles ... That
smiles when this day of August has come at last to take his place in the world pouring in every corner all new cupcake fragrance, fresh, leaving behind all the pain condensed sharing tender kisses coming of the new belly button.
Tell me, why because you smile even when I bring her to my chest as virtuous saluting the miracle of his encounter with my sweet milk, as in mockery of the secret little mystery that out of my belly and I would like to return to avoid they never let escape me ...

Because obviously, laughs you now, laugh because it made my soul crystals adventure the day to deploy its own wings to go and, as such I will have taught myself.
Smile because it sees you now (or will) the flow of my tears in their eyes open plan the day that you no longer have, or suspect you miss your breathing perhaps how shortie on my chest and his big eyes enormous charm with all nonsense of this world. Miss

why smiles as in this moment, as if he knew me forever, even beyond my stomach and my food, babbling confused, their dirty little hands caress, its happy greetings, their cheese legs, the echo of your breath in my breath, wet claims of its honey and its rain ... I would ask, anyway, that even beyond all that never leave you smiling.
Let me smile now as I watch so small, so Nuevitas and I can see beyond your angel eyes a soul bigger than the ocean and a spirit still stronger than the embrace of the sea, the sea of \u200b\u200bgenerous distance that brings me the legacy of their own eyes the promise of his curious little smile described and written in verse and poems conceived between liners.

Look what you've done, whether to myself I can not stop laughing because in the trova of my days also weave your dreams, declaiming that I love you a thousand lines of verse of foam, because the blood runs through my veins will be yours all certainties, in order to protect you always, to give back to my belly, for the promises cumplirte , not to drag his feet in tears and tear failures and perfect constant pain that I protect and transform my whole life, my soul and my heart melted, my baby and my horizon, my beginning and my end, my beautiful, eternal and Miss Sweet.


(A little Amanda,
has come by these days the world, and my dear
Pancha his mother, who I like a sister)

Lucia And we fill our light, yours to mine ...

Marianos Margarita Buckets

Side Effects ... Rhapsody

This time I will make a pause, a pause special and different is what I'll do this Monday. My good friend Sovka
of Mexico has included me in your string it out of love I can not access but not my usual style.
Here are his questions, which I have given the job of answering.

1. What three bloggers / as you would spend a night of sexual madness?
sexual
One night is an understatement to say to a passionate flower of opium, a sexual night could hanging out with all those who make bloom my writings, however, these days, rather than sexual night, an evening of poetry whispered in his ear, songs on guitar, Tangos and Night, soft kisses and caresses deafening twilight I do not want more than to spend it with my knight errant who is traveling these days for Havana, without whom I can not write inspirational and I miss too much ...

2. How long have you been blogging?

blog in the atmosphere since July 2005, more than a year ... Opium
And with my since February, and now 6 months.

3. How you hear about the existence of blogs and encourage you to participate?

news for a boom in July last year we raised a lot of curiosity to write, to get out and get back up opinions anonymous and selfless.

4. Are you anonymous reader of a blog? Only

one, a soul Bolivia fiercely hitting my body, shaking and inspires me and which I have become addicted, a powerful writer visited by very few people, whose presence never share with anyone and never reveal that exist.

5. Have you ever been in love a blogger / a?

Only once, very sorry and again.
(I never want to never ever write another Vendetta)

6. How would you go five bloggers drunk?

* With Uma, muse and sovereign of the most beautiful lyrics I've ever read, I get drunk just to meet the enigmatic source of his divine inspiration.
* With Idiot, I have known very little and yet (and now I know) you feel connected with my spirit in an irrational and inexplicable. * With Lavengro
Lord, for this taste of the sea that brings me, the promise of port, dark knight, poetry from the hills, I'm sure would be a drunk to remember.
* night-dwelling creatures, because after that dark girl image and viscera throbbing background saves an incredible personality.
* With Raging Bull, to get out all that the Wild Bull and his lyrics promise.

(The Bitch Killer appoint, but we've hit so many memorable drinking would be no novelty)

7. Have you met any more than the keyboard?

To many, I can not miss this opportunity to mention Jhony, who traveled to Ireland, which was a few days, contacted me and we fantastic in a few hours talking to thank you and opened my soul, now back to the island continues to write with the magic that can only be seen through a transparent and robust smile that shows live and direct.

8. Are you satisfied with your blog?

Very satisfied, satisfied when I receive the affection and criticism of all of you satisfied with the poetry with which at last after so many years I could find again. Satisfied with unconditional friendship, with the muses that inspire me, with real love or ficiticios born and feed the desire to continue writing.
However, I feel I do not know why that opium poppy and have a short life.

9. Do some authors that awaken you special sympathy?

generally those in my links are those that arouse me adicitivo special interest.
However, I can not ignore that my fingers move on their own to go to Idiot read more than once per day, also to Petra in his mansion in which we received as if each day had a feast prepared and of course my Tejonegro, without whose lyrics I can hardly breathe.

Choose three to five bloggers to answer these questions in their blogs.

Luis Cabrera, a great friend, great person and smelling my cute Chile rarely found Lavengro
Lord, for the simple pleasure of seeing me bathed in subtle darkness.
Petra, because it could be without knowing the answers that would give the true Blogstar.

Sovka Thanks my dear and I hope to have fulfilled the mission.

Replace Eggs In Salmon Patties

Havana Night

Havana, Cuba at sunset

"You remind me of the dreamy meadow
the wall that separates us from the sea, whether it's night you remember me sitting
certain feelings
never know what brought on the wings
whether living or dead, whether dead or alive ... "

clearly remember the first encounter with your image pounding in my old books full of aromas, your image of wood dampened by the course of your time, your smile drawing your story and look of my senses entibiando coals.
Do you remember when you came to get me on that rainy afternoon ... the time you were jumping puddles to come to my meeting and headed to the district under the umbrella of the poets to read me a Lihn with your glasses fogged by the steam coffee?
also in my kiss I remember the evening when we accept that Night stain the skin with the ink of the night and smiled ...
You know, you know how much I love to see you

smile ... It happens that you see on the streets of Havana as I saw that afternoon in the rain ... with boiling your smile thunderous twilight revelry of the Caribbean.
happens that you feel weird, brilliant in that capacity you have to read my mind and fill the bones of foam, with yours heat that reached with the mine as part of the same spell, you have to see you walking down these streets my sunshine in the spirit stirred so many memories that come and go, hoping that happens soon this summer of shit that makes you more and more endless, succumbing at times between poetry and pain, forging a smile to greet the teeming mulatto skin, trying to find the kiss you do not have every flavor of coffee ...

"You remind me of the streets of Old Havana Cathedral
black tile in your bathroom
you remind me of things I do not know, windows
where the singers sang
love night to Havana's love Habana

happens that I hear and I connect with your shadow and your neck firm, when days and nights going forward written by themselves, when the pain becomes stronger than the analgesia of poetry.
You know, these days I'm claiming verses still, and see you down the street and sustained over time does more than return these verses of yours who always support me, no tricks, no frills.
These days I can see you in the streets cut viboreantes this horny moon Havana that surrounds us ... you and me.

I wonder if everything is false, if all be true, if you can find me in those dark skies of our America to tie your star hispanic, if you can not invent in kisses without studying each sentence, if perhaps not stumble on this look not know if you can not one of them later orange sunsets, swaying in the melancholy of coffee, quench my desire to be art in the folds of your skin ...

And what matters in the end, what the hell mind, I end up saying, if I've already drunk so much of your soul and understand both your hands to yourself I'm sure I will not need eyes when I understand the blood, when I receive full, when you are waiting for your poems make game my pores on the magnetism of this city awesome remote warm winds and scorching summers, one of many of our evenings in Havana ...

"This is not an elegy,
not a romance, or a verse
rather a
thanks for giving my longing for a kiss why a modest crown

found in the dawn ..."
(Silvio)

Wedding Invitations Spanish Wording Samples

(Hilda, 1958)

I imagine in other times, in your fun times, those of the strains of mambo and cha cha cha habanero, that you liked so much and I can still hear from time to time in the sonorous echoes of your old walls. I remember imagining
, bright and beautiful as when knights were fighting for your charm slicked singing the verses of your green eyes and golden hair lady your Germanic, it is now in its whiteness shines stoic resisting the rigors of time.

I remember the flowers in your terrace singing arias of love in the twilight of time, imagine the triumphant flash of your smile and the heart stirred by the nostalgia of your ancestral regions.
I imagine shaking the world with the magic breath your beauty and charms of your lives free from taint by which time he had forgotten to take up many years later.

I should have been in Santiago for our nostalgia, it would have felt your fear when the world was falling apart in war and have seen you mourn the aroma of a thousand stories of old continents to understand the present.

there to see you today, you preserved splendid, magnificent diamond as the light of other days, walk with your angel without wings at the beginning of old age, with the same beauty of old drawn into the aura and your stealthy steps of the moon moving to the rhythm of the old soft mambo.

So I keep in my mind, so I draw my letters, so I take the hands and tired of so many eras, thus resisting time, beating both penalties. So I look the look in your sweet glassy green eyes ever. So I prefer to call
: Magnifique!. As before when you called evanescent beauty dazzled, I prefer to call Magnificent, magnificent forever since I never call Grandma.

How Do I Get Cheats For Gpsphone Without Computer

(Full Moon, Lorenzo Goñi)

invites you to drink of the night, to be a shadow that hides in the walk to fill my broken streets of vice city smoking in my numb ... here, where I found you an afternoon emerging violent winds spell ... of that spell of yours who does not play or is corrupted.
invites you to us ink-stained night to dissolve in the nostalgia of your poems in the moonlight.

invites you into the jaws of the eternal night, to figure out my moon bite of winter here where I have and where you are not yet so I can stop you, hold you and hold you, licking the lines, breathing the night, to find the throbbing kiss you owe me, to begin the story we were given on the eve of the shadows.

I also invited some to forget, to stop mourn the rhymes of your slow passion against the absence, to ignore for a moment the night pounding hammer reminiscent failure, you lose your big hill with the black ravine I was chained, leaving the night choking with words ... smoke in the lungs and the heart smoking.

invites you to walk stealthily you and I watching the shadows, bring me your poetry and ocher moon slips from behind me, to write me with their lips on each run of these old streets, so I steal the lines clear night you up shoulders, hug me by my waist and tighten your chest and steal me how I feel wild.

invites you to be drunken in the night of my kisses, to be caressing under cover of night sky, to be looked at the moon without forgetting the way the verse ... because kissing is that old exercise of amazement that we inherit as many of our experienced leaks.
invites you to kiss me from darkness, to feel just the sound of quiet tonight and pulse of our senses turned into the song of delirious triumph of the stars.

invites you to be mine which forges the endless night ... and in the dark rumor trailing silent in this city fierce and numb you to drink up all invited skin tonight.