City’s carols

City’s carols

A pretty isolated tree

Told me a story

Its thorns biting like teeth

About being too trustful with people

You haven’t even read the CV

A very populated hill

Too far from the sea

Advised me against to talk with people

Even if they don’t bear malice

Against the rest of the human race

Somebody walking a stairs labyrinth

One foggy night

Clouds had vanished the city

Told me that it is really a mistake

Even to say good evening

To someone searching for place to dream

Under the stars and the moon

But outside any ceiling

The contrary of

What is used by common people

And taught me that dry roofs

Are very scarce luxury

When rain is washing

With detailed scrupulosity

The things that makes cities

So please sing with me

This carol of the cities:

Never talk to strangers, if you don’t need to

Be careful with them, as if they would bite you

And ASAP find a roof, to refuge you

But if you fail at it

Don’t worry friend

Maybe we can meet

Under the stars and the moon

Without ceilings and outside roofs

I’m sure you will recognize me

Because my smile invites to talk

But my gun says my words

Those are sharp as a knife

That loves to slice and to slash

VABM June 23, 2010


http://victor-bueno.blogspot.com/2010/06/citys-carols.html

I love victor bueno

I love victor bueno

I’ve asked myself, quite a lot of times: ¿Why do I write?

Because after seven books, I still haven’t earned a dime, and even can´t afford to print one.

The only thing I´ve obtained, is to be phone treated as homosexual, by an anonymous subnormal, who kept phoning me one month, between late night and early morning, to tell me how bad I do write, what I was trying to write, and why I can´t.

So I’ll use an easy start: ¿Why am I writing this? 

Good, I think it’s a good beginning.

Well that’s easy: Because I love victor bueno, that marvelous poet and writer, who writes things, normal people can´t even imagine, much less freezing them for history on paper.

¿So what’s next?

¿It wouldn’t be great if he could be millionaire?

¿If he spends the rest of his life traveling only on first class?

¿Have he made evil to someone?

¿Do you see my point?

That guy is great, he deserves just the best, everybody must to love him, and buy his books, shirts and gifts.

Ok, after all being clear, ¿What’s next?

Good, next step is to fill his bank accounts enough for him to live without worries about anything and let him write, write and write :-) 

VABM June 19, 2010

http://tinyurl.com/34v7kd6

http://victor-bueno.blogspot.com/2010/06/i-love-victor-bueno.html

https://www.createspace.com/pub/community/give.review.do?id=1069438

Pass-Words at amazon y createspace.com

2006-2008 blogposts are in a book called Pass-Words
You can buy or load it on your kindle at:
https://www.createspace.com/3462525

Flushing Time

This year's blogposts are in a book called Flushing Time
the createspace preview is at:
https://www.createspace.com/pub/community/give.review.do?id=1069438


and you can also buy it at amazon or load it at your kindle at
https://www.createspace.com/3461344

A rainy Sunday’s morning

A rainy Sunday’s morning

Time’s coordinates
Are also June and Sunday
For this windy & rainy morning


Sky is dirty white
Between
Heavy water clouds


Alarming studies about the jungle
And the ozone’s layer
Fill up the news

Negotiations continue between the leaders:
The people who represent us before
The leaders of the other ones

Nobody really cares about the other ones
Because everybody knows


They’re really silly, sad & bad

Everybody secretly knows that always something fails
And the talks will be suspended
And when they will be resumed


More powerful negotiators
Will find a nicer place to represent us:
The poor normal ones


So there is really nothing to worry about
Because another cycle of talks
Will be started again immediately, someday


I’m concerned about the paper’s price
Because if it continues rising
I’ll join the ignorant masses

By now I just want to beg God
To please protect me from the dictates
Of my wise representative ones


And from the work
Of the poor normal people
Who try to put them in practice


While taking care of their places
In the “society’s pyramid”
Gladly accomplishing the worst crimes, when they can


Just for the prize of being considered
As partisans and representatives of the powerful ones
By the others below them in the “society’s stairs”

Blindly following orders with a mental laziness
Quite similar to a conviction
I’ve never had about nothing

Except about this:
Truth will prevail and Justice too
But a lot of good ones will never know
When they finally won

This:
Everything, with quite few immaterial exceptions

Follows the less effort’s path
Three of them are: love, truth and justice

And this:
Everybody hates
Sunday’s morning rains

VABM Sunday, June 06, 2010

Black urban bird

Black urban bird

Fortunately or unfortunately

My friend

The jungle wasn’t made

For none of the both

Neither for us is the anesthesia 

Of the hospitals’ clean & easy release

Because for us was made the dirty death

Of sidewalks and streets

Even the pretext of being

Just another step

In the food chain

Isn’t ours, my friend

Because except for some strayed kitties

And repulsive insects

Our meat, nerves and bones

Aren’t appreciated by nobody

Black is the ink in our quills

But if someone pay attention

Will see the rainbow in them

Without necessity of any rain

Anyway, the city

With its multilevel reality

And its intermittent sidewalks

Is our home

But we don’t waste tears on our fate

Because we need all of them

To protect our eyes from the smog

And to sing heartedly, unheard songs

Below the city’s 

Red smoke dyed sunsets

Inside its streets’ labyrinth 

Too far from the jungle’s natural scheme

VABM June 3, 2010

http://victor-bueno.blogspot.com/2010/06/black-urban-bird_04.html

A small bridge across a branch of a small lake

A small bridge across a branch of a small lake

I was happy at ten
Fishing below a small bridge
Across a branch of a small lake
What now seems to me

Quite few of a small fish
But I was not interested in the gain
Because just to fish
Was my real interest

To cast and wait
To catch
To fail and to retry
And again to wait

To keep and to release my prey
To take my booty from the lake
To obtain my fruit of these days:
To learn to always make another intent

Because at ten
Or at ten times that
Nothing is as usual as
To fail and to retry again

VABM June 1, 2010

My dead heart

My dead heart

Where is my heart?
Where it did go?
Because what I hear inside
Is just a blood’s pump

What happened to that boy?
That used to think
His heart belonged to you
And the moon to the both

Where is my heart?
I just don’t know
May be it is as dead as the moon
And I’m using a blood’s pump

VABM June 2, 2010