el chivo

last night i rode almost to Fort Snelling
freshly-fallen snow on the bike trail was jolly good fun
the first to ride the trail, soft and crunchy, deep
stayed out for 2-3 hrs, heavy going in the deep snow, good workout
moonlit

esta noche vi amores perros denuevo
llore
y llore

rode the greenway earlier today
very slow, wished i had studded tyres, for once (ice and compacted snow)
saw someone walking up ahead
they suddenly were out of sight under a bridge
as i rode past
i saw him(her?) wiping his(her?) arse
between the bridge supports

didn't slow down

flashback to London, around 1990, walking up a ramp to a train station (not the Underground, rather, the overground)
stumbled into a woman staring curiously at a spot on the ground in front of her
i stopped to see what was so interesting
then i realised that she was squatting
and there were rivulets of piss flowing below her

ahem, i think i hear my train approaching

It's been Christmas for 44minutes
melancholy

El Chivo : "Mi hijita, te quiero muchisimo"

but i ride by night
and i travel in fear
that in this darkness i will disappear

control, illusion

i s'pose it had to happen
just didn't think it would be like this

my head bloody hurts
Greenway bike trail
dark
tailwind, faaasst
snow drift, unusual spot for one, hard to tell how deep
front wheel drifts slightly then
THUMP
the lights go out
instantly transported to another time and place
estrellitas


it was like a whole dream in a split second
now struggling to grasp it, beyond reach

a sunny, blue sky is all i recall
and palm trees

last time i hit my head this hard i woke up in an ambulance

a blow struck
for clarity
i'm sure my entire life is really ALL in that fleeting moment
a blow for freedom

condor flower

surfin the thermal anticline
to heaven
on a bike

a word

torschlusspanik?

despedidas

savage heart
peaceful spirit
burning eyes
fire down below

learn, yearn

mira defrente
que solo hay cielo azul
buena suerte, corazon tierno
y gracias, denuevo

si, denuevo

the moon is waxing gibbous
flibbertygibbet

como quisiera

poder hablarte de los sueños
la inocencia
la sabiduria
innocence exchanged for what?
wisdom?
were it so, was it worth it?

fissure

crevice
chasm
fault, as in mariana
abyss
engulf the vast emptiness
i will swallow it whole
and come back for seconds
yeah

hinterland

the undertow, so full of longing, love
come back to me it cries

consider this the hint of the century

bath water

I know it's a bit silly, nectarines, and a bit dated and and
I LOVE THIS SONG

it's obviously about a lover but when I first heard it Adam, my best mate, had just died
the line
if you should die before me, ask if you could bring a friend
has always stayed with me because of that
one of those that caresses my soul
crushes as it exalts me

after all these years I also think of California, where I lived when I first heard it, wild Santa Cruz days, ocean breezes, tender loving lovers I have loved who came and went, lust abandon
when I hear it

living in the moment after moment after moment and now the time is flown and the waves still crash thunder in my heart and all alone I look at that cloud
and know
another moment has passed


now I'll sleep to the muffled sound of my Stone Temple Pilots lullaby
gutted yet gleeful, and parched
anyone got a glass of bathwater?



Still Remains
(S. Weiland)

Our bed we live, our bed we sleep
Making love and I become you
Flesh is warm with naked feet
Stabbing thorns and you become me

Oh, I'd beg for you, you know I'll beg for you
Pick a song and sing a yellow nectarine
Take a bath I'll drink the water that you leave
If you should die before me ask if you could bring a friend
Pick a flower hold your breath and drift away

She holds my hand, we share a laugh
Sipping orange blossom breezes
Love is still and sweat remains
A cherished gift unselfish feeling

Oh, I'd beg for you, you know I'll beg for you
Pick a song and sing a yellow nectarine
Take a bath I'll drink the water that you leave
If you should die before me ask if you could bring a friend
Pick a flower hold your breath and drift away

She tells me things, I listen well
Drink the wine save the water
Skin is smooth I steal a glance
Dragon flies 'er' gliding over

Oh I'd beg for you, you know I'll beg for you
Pick a song and sing a yellow nectarine
Take a bath I'll drink the water that you leave
If you should die before me ask if you could bring a friend
Pick a flower hold your breath and drift away

hola Inger

esta noche

senti el calor de la luna

y senti

labios ardientes
parpados transparentes
alma solida, mi cuerpo verdadero, la substancia de mi ser

a little light

my evenstar

los morochucos

alma, corazon y vida
alma para conquistarte
corazon para quererte
y vida para vivirla junto a ti

el destino

no, pero no, lo volvere a mencionar
el eco de una carcajada
se me paran los pelos del cuello
neverforever
ratatat
almost groan

Eduardo Galeano (II)

Profesion de fe

Si, si, por lastimado y jodido que uno este siempre puede uno encontrar contemporaneos en cualquier lugar del tiempo y compatriotas en cualquier lugar del mundo. Y cada vez que eso ocurre, y mientras eso dura, uno tiene la suerte de sentir que es algo en la infinita soledad del universo: algo mas que una ridicula mota de polvo, algo mas que un fugaz momentito.

Professing faith

Yes, yes, as damaged and fucked as one might be one can always find contemporaries in any place in time and compatriots in any place in the world. And every time that happens, and while it goes on, one has the fortune of feeling that one is something in the infinite solitude of the universe: something more than a ridiculous speck of dust, something more than a fleeting moment.

Eduardo Galeano (I)

El arte y el tiempo

Quienes son mis contemporaneos?-- se pregunta Juan Gelman.
Juan dice que a veces se cruza con hombres que huelen a miedo, en Buenos Aires, Paris o donde sea, y siente que esos hombres no son sus contemporaneos. Pero hay un chino que hace miles de años escribio un poema, acerca de un pastor de cabras que esta lejisimos de la mujer amada y sin embargo puede escuchar, en medio de la noche, en medio de la nieve, el rumor del peine en su pelo; y leyendo ese remoto poema, Juan comprueba que si, que ellos si: que ese poeta, ese pastor y esa mujer son sus contemporaneos.

Art and time

Who are my contemporaries?--wonders Juan Gelman.
Juan tells me how sometimes he crosses paths with men who reek of fear, in Buenos Aires, Paris or wherever, and he feels that those men are not his contemporaries. But there's a Chinese fellow who wrote a poem thousands of years ago, about a goatherd who is really far from his beloved woman and yet he can hear, in the middle of the night, in the middle of the snow, the sound of her comb running through her hair; upon reading that obscure poem, Juan realises that yes, that they: that poet, that goatherd and that woman are his contemporaries.

recessive

reading the micro-expressions
only to learn to hide mine, subtle, oh so subtle
little big man

autumnal sunshine, a remnant

recordando San Pedro de Atacama
alma creciente, ahora llena de gratitud
amistades del camino que aun alimentan mi otro ser
el ser que vive fuera del tiempo y espacio

el amor inolvidable, la primera vez y
la ultima y
el calor entre dos cuerpos

an insatiable thirst
hunger to fill a void
food nor drink can reach it
passion

From "Nightlight"

Nightlight

She came to him late on Wednesdays only for sex, the cab waiting outside. Four months ago someone recommended her to him for a job but he has no work  she can do. He doesn't even pay himself now. They talk of nothing much and there are silences  in which they can only look at one another. But neither wants to withdraw and something must be moving between them, for they stand up together and lie down beside the table, without speaking.

Same time next week she's at the door. They undress immediately . She leaves not having slept but he has felt her dozing before she determinedly shakes herself awake. She collects hersellf quickly without apology, and goes without looking back. He has no idea where she lives or where she's from.

 When  she's gone he masturbates, contemplating what they did, imprinting it on his mind  for ready reference: she on her stomach, him on the boat of her back, his face in her black hair forever. He thinks of the fluffy black hairs, flattened with sweat like a toff's parting, around her arsehole.

Walking around later he is both satisfied and unfulfilled, disliking himself for not knowing why he is doing this - balked by the puzzle of his own mind and the impossibility of grasping why one behaves so oddly, and why one ends up resenting people for not providing what one hasn't been able to ask for. Surely this new thing is a web of illusion and he is a fool? But he wants more foolishness and not only on Wednesdays.

For several weeks he determines to speak during their lovemaking, each time telling himself that on this occasion the words will come out "We should talk" is the sentence he prepares which becomes abbreviated to "Want to talk?" or even "Talk?"

However his not speaking has clearly gladdened this woman...

 Hanif Kureishi

gorgeous morning

a tu lado,
por la eternidad, que es igual que
por un instante

el rozo de tu piel me enloquecio

tiritonteando

dreams of alienation

"...just another tramp of hearts,
crying tears of faithlessness"
Bruce (who else)

just read an old letter from someone who loved,
subtle reminder of the seemingly endless cycle of heartbreak
aching
want to jump off

the dream of the white rabbit, deeply wounded, gouged,
i seek to ease its pain
in doing so i find my fingers fit perfectly into into its wounds
like a hand in glove

sueños/Verdad

un sueño magico, ilogico

locuaz

lo que senti, o siento

no importa

lo que pense, o pienso

aun menos

con certeza, entonces

lo que fui, o soy

ya fue, ya estuvo

andale, ahora canto y lloro

nada puede derrotar el gozo de existir

siempre fui, soy, sere

vuestro, antes de ser mio

"Verdad", de Julieta Venegas

Si me abandonara no me quedaría más que dejar de respirar permitir al viento llevar mis huesos como hoja seca, como hoja muerta Si se olvidara de esto que vivimos no queda más que dejar mi memoria borrar no me serviría más este amor que cargo se convertiría en dolor, dolor Si me abandonara no me quedaría más que dejar de respirar permitir al viento llevar mis huesos como hoja seca, como hoja muerta Es mi única verdad, todo lo demás es solo mentira, es solo mentira Viviría para siempre en un abrazo con su memoria besando sus palabras aún pintadas en esta pared si me dejara llevar por la ola de rumores no me queda más que dejarme ahogar también si las palabras se enterraran en su piel no me queda más que dejarlas partirme también Si me abandonara no me quedaría más que dejar de respirar permitir al viento llevar mis huesos como hoja seca, como hoja muerta Es mi única verdad, todo lo demás es solo mentira, es solo mentira es mi única verdad, todo lo demás es solo mentira, es solo mentira

If he abandoned me

there'd be nothing left for me but to stop breathing

to let the wind take my bones

like a dry leaf, like a leaf that's dead

If he forgot it all, all that we've lived

all I could do would be to let my memory erase it

the love I hold would be useless, then,

it would turn into pain

This is my only truth, everything else

is just a lie

I would live forever embracing

his memory

kissing his words

that are still scrawled on this wall

if i let myself be moved by the wave of rumours

then to let myself drown is all i could do

if these words could pierce his skin

there's nothing more for me but to let them tear me apart too

---

Vuela, palomita

Rode past the pigeon, dead in the road
it's eyes were already taken
a delicacy
the first morsels to go

flight

A pigeon flew under my bike wheel today
felt, heard something break
why?late to work
had to keep going

Ometeotl

Triste o chistoso

que cada vez que te digo que te quiero siento que quisieras decirmelo, pero algo te frena, como que si me lo dijeras seria un cambio tan grande en ti que no lo puedes permitir
porque sera?
comenzarias a decir a todo el mundo que los quieres?
temerias que alguna vez se lo dirias a alguien que no responderia reciprocamente?
seria peor que respondan "yo no te quiero" o que pausen,
incomodamente antes de darte el eco que piensan que buscas

Te quiero muchisimo Tio Roddy, aunque tu no puedas decirmelo a mi
se que tu tambien me quieres y te lo seguire diciendo
no solo al despedirme pero en algun momento inoportuno

Nunca (mas?) dire "te quiero" o "te amo" a alguien con el unico proposito de que me respondan con la misma frase
solo para expresar lo que profundamente siento lo dire,
y mucho

sin miedo o expectativa

mi amor no nacio en mi,
ni termina en mi
es un gotita de y es todo el amor del universo

remember, constantly

the ocean


inside a wave

tossed, tumbling

loosely held in the arms of the loving Mother

a storm


hovering over white horses of Dover

the shadow(of what), huge, passing underneath, Cayos Cochinos, mar Caribe

Cabo de Hornos, calato, para variar, cerquita del polo Sur

en Cannes para el festival, de casualidad, famoso, infame

Seabright, bubbles caught on moonlit downy arms

Huanchaco riptide got me, terrified, senselessly exhausted,
people on the beach, relaxing, oblivious to my shouts for help
no use
start going down
life's end
panic turns tranquil
thrash no more
I am yours

the sand is warm, welcome back

strolling around toulouse

i saw this

perception

fluctuations in level of arousal

define one moment from the next

looking at you, me

the deal was struck with one look
just one,
at Emiliano's house

swimming in Lake Nokomis before the storm watching it roll in
anticipation
exploding inside
storm raging inside and out

the heron, or crane? crenshaw
we approach
hear its wings moving air

thunder
heartspring

chispas
la magia de la atraccion

la vida que me ha dado tanto

We are the ones we have been waiting for...Hopi



over and over i heard this yesterday



everything dies, baby that's a fact

and maybe everything that dies someday comes back...Bruce



ecstatic



Out for 12hrs yesterday...9h33m saddle time, 157.46 miles, 16.4mph - LONGEST RIDE EVER!!!, a bit slow, mind

Missed a group ride starting at Calhoun Punch...rode to Hopkins trying to catch them on the Greenway. Had to accept the fact I wasnae going to catch them...

So went to St Paul, Como, Gateway trail to Pine Point Park, Norell to Scandia, Lindstrom, Eichten Bison Burger for lunch, Taylor's Falls, St Croix Falls, WI, Osceola, WI, Stillwater, Afton State Park(via coulees of course), downtown St Paul, RAMSEY HILL AFTER 140 MILES, river road

glad, giddy
more pain, please
and more joy

Rebekah Del Rio: Llorando

celebrando tu vida, tu llegada a la mia, siempre agradeciendo a la Creadora que me permitio conocerte

rushing

to and fro
dead

humdrum.humbug.hoohah.hugsomeone

no manches buey

Iron?man? 07

was this my fourth or my fifth, losing count now

'twas marvelous, aye, averaged 19.3mph for the first 94 miles

didn.t seem that hard....went too hard trying to keep up with Pramann and Russ...both legs cramped up with 3 miles to go, had to pull over, straddling my bike, one foot on the dirt, t'other on the shoulder gaspin with pain i hear a yelp, next thing I know I hear a crunch, metal on metal, a knock on the head and I'm rolling on the grass bank next to the road, what happened??
older guy is laying on the road with what appears to be a broken nose (my helmet?), wimpering, apologising profusely, riding distracted, aye, we've all done that
adrenaline kicks in and we're off, like old buddies
fook I'm sore, uhm...wonder why

to be "crack" is to be good at something, in some places

MN Ironman ride 

weather?

3 winters ago...still riding,

> still ridin aroun', only slipped on the ice n' snow twice, mastery of the zen way, relaxed hands at all times, even in uneven tracks of cars on busy streets with black ice covered by dirty fresh unploughed snow
> raging agaisnt the dying of the light
> inspired by william burroughs and kerouac> >

211th Chorus
The wheel of the quivering meat
conception
Turns in the void expelling human beings,
Pigs, turtles, frogs, insects, nits,
Mice, lice, lizards, roan
Racinghorses, poxy bucolic pigtics,
Horrible unnameable lice of vultures,
Murderous attacking dog-armies
Of Africa, Rhinos roaming in the
jungle,
Vast boars and huge gigantic bull
Elephants, rams, eagles, condors,
pones and Porcupines and Pills--
All the endless conception of living
beings
Gnashing everywhere in Consciousness
Throughout the ten directions of space
Occupying all the quarters in & out,
From supermicroscopic no-bug
To huge Galaxy Lightyear Bowell
Illuminating the sky of one Mind--
Poor ! I wish I was free
of that slaving meat wheel
and safe in heaven dead

> > from Mexico City Blues>

R.S. Thomas via The Manics

Reflections

 The Furies are at home in the mirror; it is their address. Even the clearest water, if deep enough, can drown. Never think to surprise them. Your face approaching ever so friendly is the white flag they ignore. There is no truce with the Furies. A mirror's temperature is always at zero. It is ice in the veins. It's camera is an X-ray. It is a chalice held out to you in silent communion, where you partake of a shifting identity never your own.

 R.S. Thomas