El Dinero

 A poem per day during the whole month of April, collaborating with National Poetry Writing Month. This poem is in Spanish.
 

El Dinero

 

¿Quién es tu Dios?

 Yo, el Dinero.

 ¿Quién te da stuff?

Yo, el Dinero.

¡Arrodíllate ante mí! Si me tienes.

 Si te hace falta mi amor, eres mísero, infeliz y hediondo.

$$$$$$$$$$$$$$$$$$$$$$$$$$$$$$$$$$$
$$$$$$$$$$$$$$$$$$
$$$$$$$$$

 Compraré tu felicidad, tu paz.

Te daré eternidad.

¡Soy tu Dios; Yo, el Dinero!

Cómeme,

Digiéreme;

Sin mí no eres nada.

Tienes tus manos atadas, a mí, tu Dios; el Dinero.

$$$$$$$$$$$$$$$$$$$$$$$$$$$$$$$$$$$$$$$$
$$$$$$$$$$$$$$$$$
$$$$$$$

Me necesitas para comprar tus porquerías,

Me necesitas para que tu familia sobreviva,

Me necesitas para ser feliz en tus días,

Me necesitas, Soy tu Dios; el Dinero.

$$$$$$$$$$$$$$$$$$$$$$$$$$$$$
$$$$$$$$$$$$$$$$
$$$$$$$

¡Niégame!

Pretende que no me necesitas.

¡Debáteme!

Engáñate con tus mentiras.

Dices: soy maldad.

Pero al final en el lecho de tu muerte,

Yo, tu Dios;

el Dinero,

Decidiré si te rinden homenaje póstumo en tu velorio entierro.

Soy Yo, tu Dios, el Dinero quien tanto desprecias en tu aliento.

Veré que te descompongas como un animal

En la cuneta de una calle cualquiera.

$$$$$$$$$$$$$$$$$$$$$$$$$$$$$
$$$$$$$$$$$$$$$$$$$$
$$$$$$$$$

 

Yo tu Dios; el Dinero.

Compro tu nacimiento,

Compro tu desarrollo,

Compro tu crecimiento,

Compro tu vida

Y compro tu muerte.

$$$$$$$$$$$$$$$$$
$$$$$$$$
$$$

Arrodíllate ante mí,

Paga el diezmo,

Llena la canasta,

Dame el 10% de tu sueldo,

Confiésate.

¿Quién es tu DIOS?

 ¡Yo, el DINERO!

 

Savages

Another poem for today. It's national poetry month, try to write one poem per day for the whole month of April.


         Savages

Primitive instincts,

intrinsic within him.

Ferocious thoughts,

violent and uncontrolled.

∩∩∩∩∩∩∩∩∩∩∩∩∩∩

Barbarian and wild man,

he rises and lacerates;

tearing to pieces

his prey and his victim.

∩∩∩∩∩∩∩∩∩∩∩∩∩∩

Once more,

Who do you think you’re running from?

Once more,

Did you think you could escape him at all?

Once more,

Run away, far away, as fast as you can!

Once more,

He will become your slaughterer and your savior.

∩∩∩∩∩∩∩∩∩∩∩∩∩∩

Thread on lightly,

be silent and be still

my child.

His lunar eclipse is rising,

keep on running away

my child.

Thread on steady paced.

Don’t venture

my child,

stay on the path.

Thread on, full throttle on.

Alas! Be quiet, be still;

my child,

pay attention to his needs.

∩∩∩∩∩∩∩∩∩∩∩∩∩∩

Winter, is gone.

Springtime, will awaken

the darkness within him.

In the heat of the night,

Under the bloody moonlight,

he shall find you again

and forever make you his prey.

 

Quiero con Querer

  This time the poem is in Spanish, still writing one poem per day, for national poetry month.

Quiero con querer

Quiero perderme,

en tu ala blanca y fresca de mañana.

Activar ese suicidio en tu mirada.

Entender esos secretos en tu alma.

 

Quiero perderme,

en la angustia de tu enojo y de tu odio.

En el centro de lo malo y lo poroso.

Adentrarme en tu escombro asqueroso.

 

Quiero sentirte,

desde el fondo de lo blanco de tu nieve,

desde el frio que te corta bien rebelde;

hasta entrar en la montaña que te pierde.

Quiero tenerte,

entre mis labios,

gota a gota,

sorbo a sorbo;

 y perder nuestro pudor

sin redentores.

Y saber que mil problemas,

son tus dotes

hasta vernos en miseria totalmente.

 

 Quiero tenerte,

Perseguirte, pretenderte, excelente.

Ver como se hace trizas tu demencia.

Romper todo esquema que te hace seria.

 

Quiero tenerte,

sonreírte desde adentro y desde lejos.

Desde afuera ver cómo eres para otros.

Percibir todo lo que das por sentado.

Penetrarte una vez más del otro lado.

 

Quiero sentirte,

beso a beso,

lengua a lengua,

bien mojadas.

Saborearme esos labios que me llaman,

aunque todo sea engaño y en la nada.

 

Quiero perderme,

en la sutileza de tu voz y tu mirada,

que se posa en mi regazo descansada.

Que me invita a seguir

y me hace sentir,

muerta en vida otra vez sin fin;

un final adecuado para esta payasa

quien ha vuelto a tu nido, desgraciada.

Rogándote hasta el fin.

 

Quiero perderme,

ser tuya, infinitamente.

Que seas mía siempre, por siempre.

Devorarme entre tus piernas,

suculenta y lentamente cantarte cada pedazo de mi ser.

 

Quiero tenerte,

subir contigo,

bajar un rato,

siempre constante,

siempre en relatos.

De fantasías vivo y tiemblo en los inviernos.

Esperando a que regreses a mi

y sabiendo que nunca será así.

No he aprendido…

Mist and Shadows

Another poem for a day...during the month of April I will try and publish one poem per day.

Mist and Shadows     


In the edge of night,

all shall fail

when trying to come back,

when trying to crawl back.

∞

There are many paths to tread:

mist and shadow,

in the edge of night

and all shall fade one more time.

∞

Sing a song

of love and death

of devotion and corruption

for this lonesome entity.

∞

Let your truths be heard once more,

before you are gone,

before I am left forever:

come undone, uncovered and alone.

∞

Through mist and shadows

we dream lucid dreams,

we touch the silence we seek;

deep within, we live a dream inside a dream.

∞

Awaken, cutting the ties that bind us.

An opening of the eyes, for the blind spots inside you.

A riddle inside an enigma;

mist and shadow, in the edge of the night and all shall fade away.
















 

Time After Time

  This is the second poem for the month of April is supposed to be one poem per day.

Again this was inspired by my muse.

Time after time


Dreams and nightmares turn into nightscapes.

Into the void and into the darkness we go.

Once again we find ourselves in a crossroad.

Shall we continue together,

or part ways here?

**********************
**********************

How are we to understand each other?

This is the moment,

the dreadful instance...

This language betrays us,

and no one cares for us.

*******************
*******************

Outsiders we are,

Once more we are clear,

One last time thicker than blood.

Until time passes by,

until we are anew again.

********************
******

At last, the moment has come

we seize the night

we seize the day

Carpe diem, Carpe noctem.

Carpe ominous,

We do what others neglect.











 

Ode to Him

This is the first post for the month of April. Is one poem per day for the month of April, I don't know if I can make it, so I shall try.

This one was inspired by my muse. Once he reads this, he will know.


 Ode to Him


What an enchanted creature he is!
Flawed and broken, yearning for nothing.
He is careless and for that I adore him.


His voice penetrates every fiber of my being.
With every note and every tone he sets the mood of our destruction.


Destroyer of dreams...
ruiner of realities;
all within him gracefully displayed.

His words sharp and shining.
With every breath he is everlasting.

Thousands of past lives unites us,
thousands of miles separates us from the present;
Yet, it is him whom I long for, no other.

What a magnificent specimen he is.
Damaged, intertwined in madness.
Dangerous and inviting.

His thoughts pressing upon my breast
his revelations delivered with such precision,
he is focused and for that he's wholesome.

A lone wolf warrior,
encompassed in silence.
I find myself longing to escape inside of him,
I long to seek his true nature and revel in it.

Lo and behold!
Admire what he's become!
For what he is you shall never be.

Dreams of nightmares of the near end of days
overshadow his fair existence.
And so he lays awake,
overthinking,
always keeping secrets.

And I lay beside him on our deathbed,
through the fire,
through the fountain of life,
after it is all done,
there will only be the two of us.

In his hour of darkness I come.
In my hour of darkness he comes undone
just for me,
because he understands my dark needs;
and I desire his darkly dreamy urges pressed upon me.

And though he is tainted
by the carelessness,
this will only bring me closer to him.

Oh, how I long to feel his daggered words penetrate my brain once more!
How intrinsic he is,
and I bask in his whole existence,
because I want to and I can.

I shall devour him,
I shall let him devour me
while we whisper to the wind
we are never ending and everlasting.

Inside, I trust his madness
outside I cast out his enemies, 
Are we the same, one encompassed within each other?



 

           

  Social Psychology
To be or not to be: Sex change in America
 
       Being born in your own skin shouldn't be a shame. Having thoughts of self hatred for your own body is not normal. Hating your sex and wanting to change sex is not something to be taken lightly.

    From a psychological point of view, there have been cases where people feel psychologically sick with their bodies. They hate being born the way they are: boy or girl and they decide to change sexes. Yet, changing sex is much more than just being castrated. It means to change not only physically but emotionally and psychologically. You need to change your whole personality. So, what if a boy feels like a girl in his mind, and a girl feels like a boy? What if they are tortured by this thought for the rest of their lives: "I'm trapped in the wrong body". That's exactly what people who have done their sex change operation feel like. In many psychological reports we have seen the same sentiments: "I'm trapped in the wrong body, I'm not supposed to be born like this, I don't want to have this sex anymore, because it's just not me".  Do we judge them? Do we condemn them? Or do we just try to understand them?

    Let's try to understand this issue for once. When one sets out to live free and be happy, that involves doing whatever one wants, right? Some people perceive this erroneously, they believe that their decisions and their actions won't affect the whole of society or change the course  history. They say to themselves: "as long as I'm happy I don't care what others think, say or do".  That is the new way to live life right now, and that is ok sometimes. But to go ahead and learn how to be a man or a woman, is that preposterous? Monique Wittig wrote about not being born a woman, but becoming one, thought she never talked about women changing sex. I admire her, and for a long time I thought about that mantra: One is not born a woman, but becomes one. I would write endless essays of how one would become a woman: evolution, feminism, radicalism, liberation, awareness, open mindedness and freedom. Does this values apply to a woman changing sex or a man wanting to be a woman? Should I feel offended or honored that a man would like to be a woman?

  From a feminist personal point of view
    First of all: being a woman is not easy. We are perceived by sexual objects, we are objectified all the time. We are discriminated against by everyone. It doesn't matter that is 2014, we are still a struggling class. Every 5 minutes a little girl, a woman, is raped, sold as a sex slave, exploited, prostituted, mutilated, humiliated, abused, insulted, portrayed as a media whore, drugged, date raped, ridiculed, cheated on, taken for granted, beaten up, abused verbally, psychologically and mentally, and ultimately killed. We have a unique reproductive system, we give life and we feel the repercussions of being a real woman every month, let alone having to go through menopause, endometriosis, breast cancer, infertility and other feminine diseases.

    One can say that it is appalling to allow men to be like us. But they are not us. They will never be a real woman. Their exterior, physical appearance may be altered to look like one, but deep down inside of their anatomy lies their male reproductive system, always present, always reminding them that they will never be a real woman. Men: you can use as many hormones as you want, you can buy breast implants, you can have facial surgery, you can change your hair, do your nails, do your make up, learn how to walk, talk and act like a woman. Basically you're playing a role: the role of your life. But who are you fooling? Not me, just yourself, because deep down inside you hate women, you don't glorify us, you don't respect us, you don't understand what is like to be a woman. You just want to be like us, but you don't want to be wholesome like us, you just want to be the fantasy showgirl, the one that you're already used to see in media tabloids, that's who you want to be. Ultimately, you end up choosing different female role models in order to imitate them, in order to become a copy of a copy of a copy. But women are just more than that. Give us the respect we deserve, be happy the way you were born as a man, love your dick, don't mutilate it! You as a man decide to be a woman, just to be with other men, or women, without really facing the consequences of being a real women. You don't have to get an abortion whenever someone rapes you at gun point, you don't have to give birth (the miracle of life) because you can't, you don't have to experience every month menstrual cramps, endometriosis, infertility, no; you just have to stride into an operating room as a man and come out as a woman. Just by doing that, you think you are a complete woman, you think that a woman is just tits and pussy, well we are much more than that!

   So, what about women who want to be men? From a feminist point of view, it is just degrading wanting to be the same sex as your oppressor. Why would a woman decide to go through a series of challenging medical tribulations just to be a man? Their perfect vaginas mutilated, their wholesome breasts, cut off and mutilated, their psyche fractured, and all for what? To be a man? Inside you will always be a woman, you will always have a unique reproductive system that entails you to give life or simply take it. Do you hate yourself so much that you have to mutilate your body to be happy? Call it whatever you want, but it is simply not natural for a person to be so hateful of oneself. Some people would say: "I used to hate my body, I would sometimes look at other men and think: if I'd ever had a sex change, I'd want to be that guy." But things are not that simple. You are stuck with your body until the day you die. So why not celebrate it, cherish it and protect it from harmful decisions. Yes, being happy is important, but at what cost?

     I've met men, who are bisexual and are doing the sex change thing. I genuinely feel insulted by both parties. It is easy to change sexes when you are completely unaware of how to make yourself happy. A psychological research (Pfäfflin, Friedemann & Astrid Junge, 1991) has shown that from a sample of a 100 people who had decided to change sex, only a 10% of those people are somewhat happy, the other 90% are still experiencing depression, regrets and overall self destructive feelings. Think about that decision, it is not to be taken lightly. Yes I have posed as a man in pictures, yes I sometimes assume the stronger role in a lesbian relationship, but not all the time, it depends on the mood, so that doesn't mean I'm going to run and have a sex change. You have to realize it before you make that decision. Realize that you are in first place a happy individual, because the operation wont make you genuinely happy. Only you will, mentally, psychologically and emotionally.  
 
From a Sociological point of view:
 
     Using the Social Comparison Theory (Festinger, 1954),  people who are trying to change sexes have an intrinsic drive to gain accurate self-evaluations by evaluating their own opinions and abilities, by comparing themselves to others and ultimately achieving their sex change operation, in order to reduce the level of uncertainty and anxiety that they feel in their own skin. People who have changed their sex have done so by first comparing themselves to the sex that they are trying to emulate, and later trying to learn how to define themselves with the sex that they have chosen (man or woman). Some participants (Pfäfflin, Friedemann & Astrid Junge, 1991) have reported that before deciding to do the sex change operation, they would feel that they were born in the wrong body, ultimately, revealing that their effeminate or masculine behavior was modeled after a role model early in their developmental years.

   If you learn how to behave like a woman or a man at an early age, you will be more inclined to follow a specific gender. Since we are gender indoctrinated before we are born, at first glance it may seem unnatural to have a sex change operation.   


References:

1. Festinger, L. (1954). A theory of social comparison processes. Human relations, 7(2), 117-140
2. Pfäfflin, Friedemann & Astrid Junge -Sex Reassignment. Thirty Years of International Follow-up Studies After Sex Reassignment Surgery: A Comprehensive Review, 1961–1991 (translated from German into American English by Roberta B. Jacobson and Alf B. Meier)

 Social Psychology and Sex Change in America

Diarios sobre violencia domestica

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Violencia domestica o violencia de

Género:

 

 

 

Nadie que te haga llorar vale la pena. Si te acusan de algo que no hiciste, ni pensaste por un momento en hacer, no debes permitir falsas calumnias.

¿Por qué soportar insulto tras insulto? ¿Acaso eres débil? ¡Tal parece que sí! ¿Entonces, como has de obtener fuerza de personalidad? ¿Cómo has de cambiar el veneno en medicina?

Debes dejar atrás todos aquellos que te hacen daño, no permitas una ofensa más. No permitas más chantajes emocionales, ya no se trata de evitar, sino más bien de erradicar los insultos y las palabras hirientes. ¿Cómo puedes ser fuerte cuando estas completamente solo? ¿Acaso tenemos algún mecanismo interno que nos limita a conseguir fortaleza? Si, este mecanismo se le llama Oscuridad Fundamental. La Oscuridad Fundamental te inhibe de la posibilidad de tener fuerzas para salir adelante.

¿Somos nosotros mismos? ¿Cómo podemos detener el abuso? El abuso no es tan solo físico, hay muchos tipos de abusos, escoge de estos los que has sufrido alguna vez en tu vida:

Abuso verbal-insultos, comentarios soeces personales, humillaciones, gritos, malos tratos.

Abuso emocional- comentarios despectivos, burla en cuanto a tus sentimientos.

Abuso psicológico- manipulación, chantaje, negación, amenazas, privaciones, insultos,

Abuso-físico- empujones, jalones de pelo, agresiones.

Tenga en cuenta que todo esto afecta a sus hijos, a su vez estos reflejaran dichos abusos en su comportamiento diario y en su conducta y desempeño escolar.

 

 

 

 

 

Citas de Nichiren Daishonin

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Citas de Nichiren Daishonin:
 

Ninguna nación puede ser tan necia como la que expulse a sus hombres sabios, capaces de salvarlos del desastre.

Recibir un puñado de insultos no es nada, comparado con las tremendas adversidades que enfrento el Daishonin.

Las personas que abandonan el budismo son presos, totalmente débiles, no tienen coraje ni fe firme para nada en su vida…débiles de mente son.

Como budistas, debemos ser duros y severos con las autoridades o personas arrogantes y considerados infinitamente con las personas sinceras.

En ambas actitudes debe verse la manifestación de su misericordia y la síntesis del humanismo sublime.

El budismo existe porque yo existo- Nichiren Daishonin

     

El socialismo es una ideología política basada en el principio de que una sociedad debe existir de tal manera que el colectivo popular tenga el control del poder político y por lo tanto de los medios de producción. Dentro del paradigma socialista se establece una clase trabajadora social organizada y creada mediante la revolución o evolución social; para construir una sociedad sin clases sociales marginadoras; siendo una reforma social derivada de la democracia moderna. El marxismo y el comunismo son ramas específicas del socialismo y las luchas por los agricultores trabajadores e industriales operan dentro de los principios de solidaridad y vocación  a una sociedad igualitaria con una economía que pueda servir la amplia población en vez de a un grupo delimitado.

 

 

 

 

 

 

Objectivism-Philosophy: One of several doctrines holding that all reality is objective and external to the mind and that knowledge is reality based on observed objects and events.

Ayn Rand's philosophy of objectivism encompass positions on metaphysics, epistemology, ethics, politics, and historical events.

Objectivism holds that there is a reality independent of the mind, that individuals are in contact with this reality through sensory perception, that they gain knowledge by processing the data of perception using reason or "non contradictory identification", that humans retain their knowledge by organizing concrete into concepts/abstractions based on the essential attributes of the concretes, that the proper moral purpose of one's life is the pursuit of one's own happiness or "rational self interest"; and that the only social system consistent with such a morality is laissez-faire capitalism.

Objective thoughts:

Words do not go into a void.

Words have an exact meaning.

The most depraved human being is a man without a purpose.

There is nothing of any importance in life- except how well you do your work. Nothing. Only that. Whatever else you are, will come from that. It's the only measure of human value.

The code of competence is the only system of morality that's on a gold standard.

When you grow up, you'll know pain and ugliness are never to be taken seriously.

At times you can doubt your own rationality, or the existence of any rationality anywhere.

The basic formula of moral corruption is: The impossible conflict of feeling reluctance to do that, which was right.

To recognize one's guilt, yet feel nothing, but the coldest, most profound indifference- this was a betrayal of that, which has been the motor of your life course and pride.

Product is necessary to the existence of a country.

There's no other way to live on earth, men are not open to truth or reason. They cannot be reached by a rational argument. The mind is powerless against them, yet we have to deal with them. If we want to accomplish anything, we have to deceive them into letting us accomplish it, or force them; for they understand nothing else. We cannot expect their support for any endeavor of the intellect, for any goal of the spirit. They are nothing but vicious animals. They are greedy, self indulgent, predatory dollar chasers.

Intelligence? It is such a rare, precarious spark that flashes for a moment somewhere among men, and vanishes. One cannot tell its nature, or its future...or its death....

Contradictions do not exist, whenever you think that you are facing a contradiction, check your premises; you will find that one of them is wrong.

VIII

Could one have any  meaning without the other?

Between one's senses, between one's insights and desires, language, perception, and homeostasis: "first the vision- then the physical shape to express it".

Your goal after the established purpose : evil that tries to separate the bond, and evil that is mispronounced and misunderstood.

"Stop, Look, Listen"...The power of the living mind, the power of thought and choice, and purpose.

By the essence and nature of existence, contradictions cannot exist.

 

 A series of mini textual micro verses: 

Untitled I

Under the rain I have forgotten you.
What is love?
Emotions, sensations and connections.
Never take for granted the love that you have been offered.
You never know when will be your time to go. 

       

King, libro clasico.

Uhe King, Libro de poesía, Libro de versos

Por K’ung-tseu, Sensei K’ung

Poesía lírica en prosa, poesía dramática. Ejemplo de poesía pura con adornos retóricos.

                                    I

Una niña tan bella como buena

una cita de amor me tiene dada.

¡Cuánto tarda en venir mi niña amada!

¡Sin ella mi alma se entristece y pena!

¡Qué hermosa es! Como en verdad me ama

este joyel me dio, de jade rojo:

cada vez que admirándolo lo cojo

parece que, al par de él, mi amor se inflama.

Una flor rara cual recuerdo diome,

una flor bella para mí cogida;

mas su mayor belleza es que mi vida

fue quien con ella férvida obsequióme.

                                 II

Más allá de la puerta----de la ciudad, al Este,

vence mujeres bellas----que en profusión circulan:

a nubes se asemejan, ---pero aunque lo parezcan

no son aquellas, no---las que mi mente ocupan;

que vestida de blanco---y en adornos escasa

mil veces les prefiero---la que tengo en mi casa.

En torno murallas---de mi ciudad nativa

se encuentran mil mujeres---que graciosas ondulan

como flores del campo;---pero aunque lo parezcan,

de mi amor adueñarse---no ha logrado ninguna:

que vestida de blanco---y el rostro sonrosado

mi mujer es la sola---que la dicha me ha dado.

                                   III

Yo escale la montaña verdeante

para ver si a mi padre descubría;

---Mi hijo menor es militar, presta servicio,

lo presta noche y día

---creí oírle decir---; más si es prudente

espero que ha de vernos todavía.

¡Que no se me lo queden

mi corazón entristecido ansía!

Yo escale la montaña sin verdores

para ver si a mi madre entreveía

y creí que con voz de honda amargura

estas palabras pronunciar le oía:

---Mi hijo menor lo tengo en el servicio,

no puede ni dormir, noche ni día; mas si es prudente, hay que esperar que vuelva.

¡Que los huesos no deje allí algún día!

Yo escale la montaña hasta la cumbre

por si a mi hermano, el que es mayor, veía,

y parecióme oírle que, con pena,

hablando se decía:

---Allá tengo a mi hermano en el servicio,

siempre entre camaradas noche y día;

que vaya con cuidado y vuelva a casa.

¡Que sano y salvo vuelva a la familia!

  Sencillez e ingenuidad