You are the shadow and the light.

The dream and the nightmare.

How I dare compare you. You, the One of all.

Waiting and listining.

You speak? Speak louder.

You are everything I can imagine and beyond.

It is you I crave. It is you I can't find.

It is you.

The shadow and the light. The real and the unreal.

The all...

of old

Another season goes by and the air slightly shakes the loaf of the roasted tree.

The lapse of time, inevitable, from the rotten chair to the kitten sitting on the legs of old Penelope.

Extensively deep, that the deepest of deepest does not seem deep enough.

The memories of old seem more vivid along the sunset of porta bella. For this is the only thing that seems to prevail, the portrait of memories that embraces through the corridors of the mind.

Being and time, only through the reality of both is the existence of all.

in the word

Afraid to reveal ones image in the piece of art.

To express emotions to the world in the humble sense of work.

To uncover the deepest of feelings in the written thought.

Is it such that the writer/artist reflects upon writings/pieces of art, as a frog sees its own image in the pond?

Should he then cover his work to the world afraid of what he is because of who they are.

Let them know who this anonymous thinker is.

Who he is because of who you are.

Let all be uncover and known for the artist to gain his reputation alive, rather than dead.

For all he is, he owes to you. In the hour of shame and at the hour of reconciliation, he owes to you.

Es la plenitud de la persona en la encontramos la felicidad.

Una felicidad que no es constante, ni continúa.

Tratando de encontrarla día con día, expresando sentimientos de esfuerzo, de esperanza pero más que nada de sufrimiento.

Un sufrimiento vivo, palpable, capaz de dar lo mas mínimo por la más grande y lo más grande por lo más insignificante.

Esperando la hora de la partida y la llegada.

Un sufrimiento palpable.

Tratando de vivir, sonrojados por el ardiente sol de la batalla, donde muchos caen y muchos tropezamos.

Esperando una redención en el sol que sonrojaba en la batalla.

esperandote a ti.

Ama, te quiero.

En la oscuridad o en la luz. En el rincón o en el espacio abierto. En ti o en mí.

Esta realidad que no permite vivir, expresar. Limitante.

En ti o en mí.

Pero, ¿qué si no está en ti o en mi?

Esta en ti, definitivamente, tu forma de caminar te delata.

Tú forma de hablar, de reír.

Tu confianza te descubre, mientras me dejas desnudo. Desnudo frente a la multitud de iconos.

Me dejas desnudo frente a ti, sin nada que decir, sin acciones que diluyan tu mente de mí.

Frente a ti. Vacio.

Pensamientos que restringen su propia existencia.

Tú estás ahí y yo estoy acá, irónicamente.

En ti o en mí.

Tú en mí y yo en ti.

Viviendo en las sombras de la luz. En la frontera del espacio y la esquina de tu casa.

Aún es la realidad que evadimos. Limitante.

Tú en mí y yo en ti. Tú allá y yo acá.

Y después de todo, en ti o en mí.

Ser es la plenitud de la persona.

expresar tu carácter es ser tu mismo.

expresarte

"deliver me courage to guide me"

i.....

i wish i could express myself. i wish i could find my own rail of expression. i wish, one day, i come to arrive in the path of myself...

The day started cold and shivery, the sign of rain was present at the windshield of the vehicle. What had seemed eight years ago as usual weather, today it made a difference. As I made my way through the crowded streets of the lovely city of Juarez, full of potholes, I came to arrive at my waiting destination. It seemed a typical day while crossing the border at the Santa Fe international bridged. While getting near the checkpoint a sudden pause was made by the custodians who guard the border. Suddenly, they all close the lanes of the cars as well as the pedestrians. It came to my mind “a bomb threat”. More than 50 agents stood still facing a flag that represents our nation. They all stood silent in front of the flag-pole. The border closed for 5 minutes and the mourning that eight years ago was felt, once more made its way through every corner of this vast nation, the US. I saw the flag go half-staff and the meaning of being an American was shown in the deep of my eyes. During the five minutes the bridge was crowded and the only noise that was heard was that of the wind hitting the flag. Our Nation weeps. Our Nation stands strong for In God We Trust….

through all

Dreams let us reach the sky and tap the star that we thought unapproachable. Hope is vital for dreams to be accomplished. This idea might seem irrelevant to the world that we live in as it is surrounded by a deep skepticism. Men that have accomplished their dreams have shed the principle of hope throughout their existence always searching for something above or below. From the ancient Greeks to the most recent thinkers, such as Heidegger, the love of wisdom is the discipline of life for the common ground of thought. My hope for this discipline is deep and, although sometimes unreachable, I hope.

fade...

Let me not fade away as the leaves go dancing in the wind.

Let me remain here close to you; please don’t let my hand go!

You remain silent while I whip in mourning; please let me not fade away….

Let me remain close to the warm of your heart, to the vertura of your legs,

For the darkness is deep and the world is obscure.

But above all please don’t let go my hand as the leaves go dreaming in the wind while dancing to the breeze.

Esta es la realidad en la que vivimos.

Tratamos de taparnos los ojos, pero dejamos huecos entre los dedos.
Huecos para inconscientemente ver lo que no queremos, pero necesitamos.

¿Hasta donde llega el hombre con su necedad? Sin duda alguna hasta arrastrar lo poco de pecho que le queda...

¿Donde está la mujer perfecta de los sueños de miles? (sin referirme al físico)

Sal de tu escondite que se encuentra tras los arboles. Los arboles que por tu culpa están frondosos y verdes, llenos de frutos ricos en sabor.

¡Sal de donde estés!

¿Qué es eso que me da?
Que sabe y no sabe.
Que quiero y no quiero.

que inigualable sentimiento es este.

que sabor mas horrible posee, pero que adictivo se vuelve.

¿Que es esto que me da?

color

color
Originally uploaded by sertarín

this is a pic i took at/from my backgarden. hope you guys enjoy it!
this is an example of the beautiful blessing that life is being express in the most simple form, is he is so colorful why can we be? aren't we worth more than a flower?

same

We all share different perspectives, we all live different lives and circumstances. But when it comes to us we are all the same.

THROUGH ALL

The lives of many changed when they meet their love and embrace in a cup of happiness.
The fruit of that love comes when they convene to encounter one being in the hands of the eternal joy and eternal delight.
A family that goes through difficulties and brutal times but endures in the task of living in a land that brings hope.
A family being raise in the roots of their culture to retrieve the postmodernist world we live in today.
The ceaseless battle that takes place in every part of life in order to not let yourself be swallow to this culture of postmodernism.

veo y escucho

Veo sin ver y escucho sin escuchar, y que a ti te venga valiendo madre!!
Siento pero solo un minuto los otros 4 son solo eso, minutos!
¿Qué pasa entre mi espesa atmosfera y tu ligera gravedad??

Reloj

Las manecillas del reloj lentamente marcan la hora para recordarme que me queda un Segundo, un minuto, una hora, un día. No importa mucho, pero eso es lo que ese maldito me recuerda

Yo: “Por qué sigues?? Para!! Ya! Por favor te lo suplico”
Reloj: “ {silencio} tik tak”
Yo: “i see, that’s how you want things to go. Tengo una respuesta para tu necedad.”
Reloj: “ tik tak”
Yo: “ al parecer te vale madre!? A mi igual!!”

Un instante antes de desconectarlo- respondió

Reloj: “espera…..tik tak”

Pareciera como si se estuviera burlando de mi, seguro si.

Yo: “no me vengas con esas estupideces. ¿Vas a decir algo o le dejas todo a tu simple frase??
Reloj: “tik tak”
Yo: “Jodete pues!!”

Desconectada la mierda de necedad, me encontré solo en el silencio. Al verme enredado en la incertidumbre en la que me envolvía ese silencio seco volvi a conectar lo que repugnaba.

Reloj: “yo sabia que no podrías durar ni un minuto sin mi. Tik tak”
Yo: “{silencio}”

El silencio seco hizo que mi lengua se trabara al oír las palabras de ese reloj tan antiguo como el apellido que llevo{no creo que tanto}. Su complexidad era de madera con un poco de plata adornando su entorno. Ciertamente era apuesto.

Reloj: “no te preocupes en contestar. Aquí voy a estar para escuchar tu respuesta. tik tak”