Sid For Window Blinds

Karmelo C. SANDAL

A Karmelo C. Iribarren


PHOTO

in that picture it appears that two giants

pull his cheeks to get a smile
-without success, as always,




resists with a grin that hints

in the furrows of his forehead, his inner restlessness
tell

poet

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IRIBARREN Seisdedos

Sandalio poem Seisdedos (Valladolid, 1952-1997), poet, and mime shoeshine ignored by critics and died in poverty


WALKING THROUGH THE MIND OF MY FRIEND A. NORMAL

A poem should be easy as the middle class vacation
Juan Carlos Mestre

where are you?
hear your voice but not see you


SMOKE SMOKE smoke meantime

************************************************* **** damn poet
* closed * writing a poem just
, * between the smoke * every summer
* imprisoned by the walls of a wall *
; * Wall lethal pitch landlocked * ; ;
******************* ****************

you are around ;
know you by intuition, but the smoke ... this I cursed
smoke away from your mouth constrictor SMOKE
the smoke sandwich ; ; Sorry
have shredded the value I do not know
back together again to form diamond lust announcing

downwind of your verb indolent and with it, the cavalry
tititititirititi, tititititiriti
to the rescue of your new swim

the smoke suffocated under a tabard dirty
; frayed
by the lies of your bra clasp
impossible to secure my death I leave as an epitaph
lost touch on your tits
sizzling as Pop Rocks and verses
filthy with scab behind the ears

the smoke I can get me to myself again

but be reversible sentence me to be empty always

empty or filled with smoke

wear makeup when he heard the first bullets whistle You run away
Under forgotten his wallet and keys
I ran aground in the smoke-filled street people look at me with empty eyes

; empty or filled with smoke

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MAN ZANA

ET CORPORE Zano

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EVA Latin class in America, JOAN PAYER

the bad ones, we say that poetry awards are rigged, because we know we will never win one, but the poetry book "American Eve," the Spaniard Joan Paye, awarded the prize for poetry José Luis Hidalgo 2010 and edited by Qualea editorial, is surely an exception.
thought my poetry had more in common with the poetry of Paye, but I was wrong, mainly separates us a little thing of no importance: it is good.

beautiful book that invites you to upload Payeras a chevrolet and wander through dirt roads and motels with sheets which scratch. very good, with the only downside, to name one, the short poems, some otherwise normal in poetry awards.
left a poem without the author's permission, which outlines perfectly the soul of the book

GENESIS Eva


arranged finishes in the bathroom of the motel.

Adam looks on in silence bags,
then parked car, the lonely road

and
sand color that extends to the horizon.

The
raw paradise awaits.


Blog HERE Joan Paye

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benedetti by luis ramiro Mordzinski

see a picture made by Daniel Mordzinski
where benedetti
sits behind

a kid sitting on a ball faced
life passing in front of goal
in a schoolyard


in the wall is a painted
where
or encourage someone tells:


petas smoking makes you forget


leaving the bitumen height
Uruguayan immortal verse
which reads (in no god receiver):
" forgotten memory is full "

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coffee and the waitress STRANGE MOMENTS

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Spain, Pepe Perez

Greenland presents

The new book of fiction:

Moments Strangers "

De Pepe Foreword by M. Sloth
J Romero Adriana
Epilogue Bañares
Art

Oscar Cardenas "The essence of the 50 stories collected in" strange time "to capture the story lies not visible to the naked eye, anecdote to highlight highlighted above all else and to highlight the uniqueness of a situation or of its protagonists, located away from these common place where heroes and anti-heroes in the literary deal. Although in some accounts is a supernatural element, magical, or strange what makes them extraordinary, everything seems to have no explanation tells us, be real and true "
(the prologue of M. J Romero)


Now available in Scribd and Issuu:

http://issuu.com/revistagroenlandia/docs/name9f7e84

http://es.scribd.com/doc/54922772/MOMENTOS-EXTRANOS-DE- PEPE-PEREZ

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Thursday reading assessment according awi

on Thursday 5 May, the inauguration of the reading room in the Eclipse bar. I leave the link of chronic Awixumayita eyes. better than her I'm not going to count, so if you want to know what happened, go HERE

I leave you with a poem I read on Thursday



NOT TALK JUST


obsessed He says he should talk
The leading pediatricians
A speech therapists
not speak hardly anything
Gugu tata and little else

should start talking
is very worried

I'm happy so

a common mistake is the rush to
Encourage girls to talk
And start so early to fill defects

Like, for example, speak.

It will be so beautiful!

How Contagious Is Papilloma

not you want some

is that my nine
;

sometimes appear four

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HELLO, MOM

Hi Mom, how are you all?, "Dad, as always
locked in his paintings? Give it a kiss. You
, tired, always worried about everyone, not
rest. At the end I did not keep get a maid.
Soccer was not my thing. With the mud you had to clean
all.
Me? pulling. Yes, as all but
see me so thin. I am not the child of Biafra
you took half a lifetime throwing up
orange juice.
work well, swallowing shit,
from catching cold and weight. If you did not.
be studied. I keep a beard, yes, I know I'm more handsome
shave, but that does not highlight
both my eyebrows that look like two cats lying down.
The house, well, if you know but arranged
clean and decent. No ironing board, do not mind going
wrinkled. How are you going to wear clothes?
me and make do.
She kisses my sisters, one of my nephews.
And Grandma. Me and goes, I'm so off.
But tell me, I'm still your child, right?
remember every day how you spent hours scratching
scar. You see, with everything you've done for me
and that's what I agree.
Nothing, Mom. Just today I needed
. One of these days I spend. I swear
kisses dad, to see if it comes out of the boxes.

this poem belongs to the cult book "Verses in the desert"
Zephyr my colleague has devised a version of it for the first Sunday of May.
and I promise to be grateful

Hi Mom, how are you all?, "Dad, as always
buried in garlic, right? Give it a kiss. You
, tired, always worried all, not
rest. At the end I did not keep get a maid.
Soccer was not my thing. And the ping pong is not lived.
With the mud you had to clean at all
porculo and I gave the balls.
Me? pulling. Yes, as all but
see me so thin. I'm not the boy who took away half my life
acting up since I woke up not wanting
mouthful of anything.
work well, swallowing shit, at least not step
lame cold or weight. If you did not. Haber
studied a competition. I keep a beard, yes, I know
I'm more handsome shaving, but you know
never endured the smoothness of the shave.
The house, well, clean but do not know if arranged
and decent. No ironing board, but I manage
to not go very wrinkled. How are you going to wear clothes? Already
I managed.
She kisses my brothers, another grandmother. I already
worth, I'm so off.
But tell me, I'm still your child, right?
remember the day you left
seeing mourn over the wall recess, all morning.
You see, with everything you have done for me
and that's what I agree.
Nothing, Mom. Just today I needed
. One of these days I spend. I swear.
She kisses Dad to see if he emerges from his garlic.

thanks, made me very excited.
Zephyr blog HERE

And Antoine Lamarck, from his blog "A PLACE FROM LOST" adds this game with a version where the emotion and feeling are very latent

Hi Mom, how are you all?, here
dad is learning to use the Internet, do not worry you get your kisses,
Tu always concerned about everyone,
now resting. Do not have time to get a maid.
Soccer was not my thing. The patch in the tracksuit
you had to sew at all.
Me? pulling. If, as all but
see me so thin. I'm still like that little boy who always repeated

if there lentil dish.
work well, swallowing shit, but only
work. You always you said
Not everyone is going to be lawyers.
Now I have a beard, yes, I know I'm more handsome
shaved, but you know me, I'm pretty left
.
The house, well, not me who
cleaner but neat and decent. No ironing board, rather than
shirts, I can not take them wrinkled. Who
I am going to take my clothes?
me and make do. Kisses
of my sisters, grandparents and you
husband. To me and I better, since you're not,
I've become so detached.
But tell me, I'm still your child right?
I remember many nights when I put "bad" and you
always by my side, so much what
have done for me, I can not forget. Just
mom. Just today I needed yesterday
I pass by the cemetery to bring flowers
center, like every year.
not worry, I'm giving him the kiss
father of your hand, now that we have become
surfer.

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the improved version men in the plural (The Fanzine 7 #)

my contribution to the n º 7 # of the fanzine dedicated to power.
can see the link

http://lafanzine.blogspot.com/2011/05/los-hombres-del-plural-jorge-m-molinero.html

Concellon CHEMA picture
flickr HERE

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Sucking, Ball (VNL, 33)

collaboration I leave No 33 of VNL (Volumenolegal) and always full of interesting things.
to take a look u / or / and download it, I leave the link to the blog of fanzine HERE.
take this opportunity to thank you let me continue to work with them.
The poem is inspired by the wonderful song by Australian Blonde "Chup chup" whose video you can see below.

Too late.

I have used. As a vulgar artichoke.
And I realized too late.

has been entertaining suck and suck. Chup, chup
all day.
Chup, chup like the song by Australian Blonde.
Chup, chup, playing dismissal.

Too late.

When I wanted to react, I could not do anything.

has touched the hearts
and is eating.

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recesses of poetry

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DANCING IN THE DARK

I check my look in the Mirror

I want change my clothes, my hair, my face

Bruce Springsteen

The Boss sweats on my tv
; Dancing in the Dark

strangles your package
Repeat step
base that over the decades ridicule


One way to start any
to
thank you


for being my candle candilón
and save me from this darkness thinned
where nobody teaches dance steps


hit the play

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Vinalia

COMING

BLOG HERE

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ORIGAMI, A POEM OF NACHO MONTOT

ORIGAMI
A dream of camphor balls: your skin
you take off your heels

Low

zipper of your skirt
Vas stockings screwing with your fingers
And you lie on the bed
; That image
everyday leads me to think
Again
That we
origami




poem poems belonging to Nacho Montoto SURPLUS (Cangrejo Pistolero Ediciones, 2010)

the author's blog, you can see HERE

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there who are always angry

is absurd
Kamikace go mad

renegade against the world
until all eggs
with that pose of persecution mania and paranoid schizophrenia



absurd
to see
knees with his head in the bathtub
when washing your hair

; that ass in shorts
looking with one eye to reconcile

;
again with mankind

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NOT IN CASTILLA

April 23, Villalar day (day of Castilla y León)

Martin Murphy Oil

Castilian painter, two colors on your palette

misery and sad yellow ocher

pigeon closes gates

not sully the honor of your pucela

dry land storage room filled
Holy Innocents

outstanding accounts with rough hands hidalgo pride
there is no future in your vast plains

sitting waiting time threshing
so is my outdated Castilla

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AMANECE the news PUT THE THREE

A
Traubert

Tomorrow is another day.

tremendous

yesterday John E. Martin

My good friend Leonard

Canada recommended a
night, when we were both drunk,
become famous, to throw me
all these beautiful women
that seemed unattainable there

He
knew that he spoke was so ugly
or more than I
but terribly popular,
good company would always
the bastard


not get round to these letters
I know


Put the news of the three
going to charge me
dictator and the pope who lost faith


See how they rob
of her stockings and her panties
all foxes I ignored in the bar

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ALAN PIPO, LOCO

JUST A MAN

but see
is simply a man known


small carnival with his sword
spitting blood

sensed his defeat next
not fear the sky falls on his head

challenges ; to life ready to die

willing to take someone in front
; but see

a mock
other
feel sorry for him (crazy)

I really admire

is better than any


us Alan Pipo, thinker and poet. Walk the streets of Valladolid teaching his poems and philosophies. And believe me, the more people read the Cervantes prize. I gave a copy of The Fanzine and him, I recited a poem accompanied by a photocopy. One day I will hang around here. For many a geek, so overused word, distorted. I prefer, as stated earlier, a Pinkfloid. A real guy, a crack.


Photo courtesy of Patricia García Berruguete, which is flickr HERE.

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Anna and the King

has done it again, Zephyr


ANA Y EL REY
I always knew that his heart more questions

enclosed a
Lapido song and through his eyes could
a swim in the warm waters of the Mediterranean
and feel the magic
of starry August night.

purity always suspected that moves
breathed life into every gesture, which was
unlawful, illegal and persecuted;

I always bet on it contrapronóstico;
always sensed the arrival of the whirlwind of ash
that they burst spectacularly in his room
swirling over her naked body to lick their
wounds and later return to any semblance of beauty
stolen.

I also learned that after losing, the same wind
launching a furious tirade against time
, eroding
towers of castles afilaría daggers and knives
and would undo the desert dunes.

always knew that this would be presented
fall. Up in arms and screaming
the decline of the king to pedestrians,
proclaiming his victory and defeat, its own light
and his own shadow.


find his blog HERE

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THE FANZINE 6 # TIME

Pat Bañares Master and Adriana are giving us lessons

PASSION AND I am very grateful. Thanks. Thanks

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circus (for order some poetry) FORGIVENESS

A Geli, for putting up with this clown

trapeze artists living in another world, they are never with their feet on the ground tamer
the scars on his torso and his wife he deceives the tightrope walkers
not exist as the tightrope walkers
rae bore me, the SAR also
tough woman does not read a book of escapist
nothing is known of the tamer
women has found the escapist
has spent the contortionist porn
the human cannonball and a sheep
recites poetry by the juggler makes it to ends
the magician in a pool

nothing here nothing here nothing tragafuegos

the jug gets drunk women
tamer and appear scorched escapist
the doll ventriloquist accused
the fire-eaters fire-eaters fire is on the line
the trainer swears to have seen with a cigarette lighter to
the tightrope tightrope there, case closed

I'm a sad clown is
the juggler and the man I dodge bullets
phobia of clowns: coulrofobia
is hard to say without language coulrofobia

lock and can not mistreat animals in the circus
nobody said anything about me
clowns paint a smile and eyebrows of surprise
try to stay out of women
the circus strong man is not the same without the contortionist

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You have many flaws, but between the few virtues that characterize me is being a gentleman always keeps his word. Therefore, I, George M. Miller, I have to say I apologize

Britain publicly Francisco, my favorite Galician, and David Garcia, alias Pol, and I was wrong.
unsuspecting eyes to recognize my error, I dropped the whole team. I further acknowledge that I am a big head, a head of escarole and a piece of Zerolo. I'm like St. Thomas, if not I do not think so and now I have your two cocks in my ass, and Jayna Oso in THIS VIDEO

And yes, Atletico Madrid took a team in the ACB with Jesus Gil, who do not know everything, I'm a terrible poet (as I write crap I have more comments when I hang poems), which on Tuesday will have a pie for lunch and I Mercadona dance the dance Petko HERE

And of course, reluctantly admit that Walter Berry was a helluva pivot (though not as much as the Bear Pinon)

MEA CULPA, bastards

beam

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account what 've tried, I say no,
make a smear but you lack resources, you are missing hell, I lack courage;
make a new account if you think you're gonna get your way, you go from bad to worse
; ; ; the weather man announces gale what? ; ; ;
; ; ; As I lose my mind, The Madison
you too
still life
duty leaving


J. Miller Malone


ectoplasm could have been a whisper me during paradoxical sleep, I really am an angel and my name Sananda Maitreya. Or see me at the home of Hugh Hefner in his jacuzzi, where Monica Bellucci sodomized with a strap-on to Sofia Vergara while it licks my balls, shaved bare exposed as two quail in the poultry.
But instead, a raccoon with disproportionate ears winks at me and tells me I want to be your Tampax.
I wake up startled and sweaty. Too many strawberries and cream before bed. I get up to pee. Sleeping in a row is somewhat overestimated, scratching the eye with a half smile to know that you still have four hours to get to work is priceless.

Back to bed frames and Sophie xxx Monica will not let me sleep, cock, erect of my life. Camacho and I appear low. Sleep. My boss dressed ridiculously
mobile phone, twenty nails, singing with leering me enchúfame charger, charger enchúfame. Sign Manute Bol with its three legs exposed: Hello, I am Inigo Montoya, you killed my father, prepare to die.
My boss, looking to Cuenca, emits a shrill cry of Manute the first attack, like a child who enjoys practicing medieval on his ass.


mobile alarm sounds.

5 minutes.

sounds again. 6.25 h. The I stretch, now may be a great day.
Of those that do not need to write a poem to pour the rage.

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Khaled Hosseini - A Thousand Splendid Suns

Sometimes it is difficult to recommend a book, when you do not spread joy or indifference, it is difficult to recommend a book that opens your eyes and shows you a hard and painful reality. Thousand Splendid Suns is a book of these, which makes you want to try to change things.

The book takes place in Afghanistan, runs approximately 30 years in this country since the withdrawal of the Communists came to power by the Taliban. We moved to Herat and Kabul, plunges us into the reality of war after war and the harshness of these.

life of the two protagonists, Mariam and Laila is extreme, marked by machismo society and the harshness of their reality, show how strong they are, despite everything and show us the stark reality of their society, society in which it is difficult even I miss not having a child, because the girls are almost a disgrace to their parents.

Definitely a heartbreaking book, a theme that encourages you to keep reading and leaving a sinking feeling and a great deal of anger in the reader. A book I recommend here who likes to think and know about the sad reality of other people.

I leave a link to the map, for those of you curious, especially after reading the book.

View larger map

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The river of the 1024 gig, the Tera River

A small detail advancement of my last mini-tour of the area de Sanabria in Zamora, a river with a funny name.