Autumn Song

Let's go down the road together, you and I,
Let's go down the road together,
Through the vivid autumn weather;
Let's go down the road together when the red leaves fly.
Let's go searching, searching after
Joy and mirth and love and laughter--
Let's go down the road together, you and I.

Let's go hunting for adventure, you and I,
For the romance we are knowing
Waits for us, alive and glowing,
For the romance that has always passed us by.
Let's have done with tears and sighing,
What if summer-time is dying?
Let's go hunting for adventure, you and I.

Let's go down the road together, you and I--
And if you are frightened lest you
Weary grow, my arms will rest you,
As we take the road together when the red leaves fly.
Springtime is the time for mating?
Ah, a deeper love is waiting
Down the autumn road that calls us, you and I!

Margaret Sangster

Lawrence

You, seen through your own soul by my own

Lawrence is good as a sunshine ray,

reliable as an April day,

sure as a road walked before;

strong as a childhood belief,

timid as a morning song,

playful as a kite in the wind,

straight as a goal pursued,

firm as a lighting storm…

But where the marsh is…

where the marsh seems to wait steadily

for that that might dissolve it into eternity

Lawrence becomes bird, song, perfume, comet;

his heart expands deep enough to embrace the world,

his face meets the breeze with an open sight,

his thirst seems to be quenched by the morning dew

As if it were hope

And there he smiles with the plenitude of those who believe,

and there his search rests acceptingly for the nigh

and there he turns around and sees far beyond of what is there

and quietly and briefly,

without promising any impossible possible

yet without doubting the certainty of the uncertain

with a wink in his smile and a smile in his eyes

he extends his hand and hushes me.

J Sanders

Mi little sunshine

You came into my life and filled it with warmth

You touched it softly, carefully

barely caressing it

until I said yes

You brought into it

the strength of your embrace

the clarity of your gaze

the warmth of your touch

the certainty of your truth

And the sunshine you had for me

cleared the mist that despair had left

opening in front of me

fresher and greener paths

that looked feathered and yet so sound

Then you offered me your hand

and danced me trough those paths

until your melody beckoned me to hear

the sweet and might still alluring call of Life

B

“The Invitation” by Oriah Mountain Dreamer

It doesn't interest me what you do for a living
I want to know what you ache for
and if you dare to dream of meeting your heart's longing.

It doesn't interest me how old you are
I want to know if you will risk looking like a fool
for love
for your dreams
for the adventure of being alive.

It doesn't interest me what planets are squaring your moon...
I want to know if you have touched the center of your own sorrow
if you have been opened by life's betrayals
or have become shrivelled and closed
from fear of further pain.

I want to know if you can sit with pain
mine or your own
without moving to hide it
or fade it
or fix it.

I want to know if you can be with joy
mine or your own
if you can dance with wildness
and let the ecstasy fill you to the tips of your
fingers and toes
without cautioning us to
be careful
be realistic
to remember the limitations of being human.

It doesn't interest me if the story you are telling me
is true.
I want to know if you can
disappoint another
to be true to yourself.
If you can bear the accusation of betrayal
and not betray your own soul.
If you can be faithless
and therefore trustworthy.
I want to know if you can see Beauty
even when it is not pretty
every day.
And if you can source your own life
from its presence.

I want to know if you can live with failure
yours and mine
and still stand on the edge of the lake
and shout to the silver of the full moon,
"Yes."

It doesn't interest me
to know where you live or how much money you have.
I want to know if you can get up
after a night of grief and despair
weary and bruised to the bone
and do what needs to be done
to feed the children.

It doesn't interest me who you know
or how you came to be here.
I want to know if you will stand
in the center of the fire
with me
and not shrink back.

It doesn't interest me where or what or with whom
you have studied.
I want to know what sustains you
from the inside
when all else falls away.
I want to know if you can be alone
with yourself
and if you truly like the company you keep
in the empty moments.

How to hold on to someone

First build for her a bridge of flowers held by truth

So she can cross and walk to what is there for her

Then, offer her your hand and hold her gently

so she would know who might lead her steps someday

Guide her without rushing and always understanding

that behind there is a reason for each and every gesture

Try to hold her and embrace her with tenderness and patience

for life has broken her and harmed her and she might still be bleeding

Show her who you are and that theres still good in this world

Take time to learn from her, laugh with her, believe for her

And teach her one more time that you are there for good

Take her dreams and build steps with them

So together you can climb them

One at a time

Then take her where you want to

and give her what you kept only for her

tend her garden, even her path, show her the rainbow…

Be with her and let her be with you

And if you feel she deserves it

close your eyes and trust again

and she will then hold on to you

B illescas

There are days when the sun, the air, the clouds vanish from within and theres nothing but cold and gray shadows

Days when you want to be dead, yet you know you cant just disappear because you would hurt the only ones that there still care for you

Days when everything that surrounds you has no meaning, when no words can reach you when even the word loneliness seems a game

There are days when you know that no effort would be enough to take you away, days when your eyes cannot hide what is devouring you, days when no fake smile could trick no one

Days in which you feel your are carrying the world over your shoulders and you cannot take another step

There are days in which you know its over, you know you have lost, you know nothing else is there to be done, yet you cannot quit, you cannot end it, you cannot give up and you find yourself with the worst condemnation ever becuase you realize life is not yours and theres nothing absolutely nothing that you can do except wait for another night

Days when you remember what you had and turn your eyes to the infinite and ask why once and again and again and again...

FRANCO NERO (Gene Merlino as Lancelot's singing voice) - If Ever I Would...

Gestos tardios

Un pensamiento necio pero divertido le había estado rondando y rondando la cabeza en los últimos anos

Un día se había dado cuenta-con las experiencias de la vida- que el pensamiento, loco y absurdo, no era otra cosa que lo que efectivamente sucedería.

Las palabras que tantas veces oyese, no fueron nunca mentiras, solo fueron…palabras... porque al final ninguno supo como quedarse

Y una tarde fría con un frío que ella ya no sentía, los vio llegar uno a uno, con los ojos tristes y los hombros caídos

Por supuesto que la habían amado, no estaban allí todos llorándola y recordándola?. Los platónicos -por así llamarle a los que se quedaron con las ganas -se mezclaban con el ex esposo, con el ex prometido, con el ex novio, en una sinfonía de edades y coloridos. Desde la calva mas lustrosa hasta la cabellera mas oscura ; desde un gordo incipiente hasta un atletico delgado, desde un snob estirado hasta un bohemio maltrecho y por supuesto desde mentes brillantes hasta los mas completos tarados

Se miraban unos a otros un poco extrañados y bastante indignados y los que se reconocían se preguntaban así mismos: -Como se atreve fulano a estar aquí con esa su lloradera, si al final de cuentas no hizo otra cosa que fallarle?

Si, casi todos estaban allí dispuestos a “honrarla”; sus hijas, pobres!, no sabían a quien designar para que la llevaran en hombros. Quizás se les ocurriría escoger a unos para el funeral y a otros para el cementerio. Entonces comprobó lo que siempre había sabido; la falta de hijos varones no seria un problema a la hora de su entierro

De haber podido sin duda le hubiera gustado susurrar al oído de la mayor que- si podían- las tres solitas la llevasen ya que solo ellas habían estado siempre …además, no se alivian conciencias con gestos tardíos

Pero encogiéndose de hombros pues lo mundano ya no le competía, se volteo para seguir su camino mientras su alma repetía: "En vida hermano, en vida…" .

B Illescas

Caetano Veloso "Cucurrucucu Paloma" (With English Lyrics)

La Vita è Bella - Barcarolle

Armonia en B mayor

A mi tio Rene, a quien sin duda le encantara esta historia

Mateo siempre se prometió a si mismo que, por nada del mundo, así la soledad fuese enloquecedora, llegaría al punto de buscar una relación -por casual que fuera- a través de citas en internet

Pero la vida de cincuentón, solitaria y a veces aburrida, lo llevo a dar su brazo a torcer; además, el dolor insoportable por un amor imposible le consumía los días, así que, acostumbrado a encontrar soluciones, salto de clavado a lo que los adelantos del siglo ofrecían a gente como el…-que jodidos! -se dijo a si mismo y abrió el Internet para ver que opciones había.

Después de "registrarse" en uno de esos sitios que por supuesto su objetivo primordial es hacer dinero, y luego de negociar la opción mas favorable, el sistema inmediatamente empezó a enviarle decenas de posibilidades que, si bien en un principio le entusiasmaron y le hicieron creer que era el Apolo de su generación, en realidad era una cosa mas que tenia que eliminar y borrar de su correo cada manana. Lo malo es que si no leía algo del perfil de cada "posibilidad" se sentía como asesino en serie, Cyber asesino en serie de sueños y esperanzas (bueno..y quizás tambien de ciertas intenciones…quien sabe nada en estos tiempos!. Además era responsable y sabiendo que había invertido algo de sus pocos centavitos, había que revisar las probables posibilidades

Después de dos meses y cerca de 197 “posibilidades”, decidió al fin darse una vuelta con una de las que había aceptado sus avances y que era parte de ls lista que había elaborado con aquellas que llenaban sus requisitos (cerca de 12) . Por otro lado, diligente como era, había hecho “registros” de cada “posibilidad” dándole a cada una, de 3 a 5 estrellas dependiendo si cumplían en mayor o menor grado con dichos requisitos

Francisca era fascinante, Inteligentísima, pero increíblemente callada lo que uno pensaría que es bueno pero cuando los silencios son demasiado largos y demasiado seguidos en realidad no llega a ser bueno
Cocinaba de película y se esforzaba por hacerle manjares que nunca antes hubiese probado así era la No 1 en introducirle a algo. Su primera gran introducción fue con los escargots y alli Mateo quedo fascinado.
Una de esas noches, mientras Francisca se encontraba embebida preparando una nueva exquisitez y mientras Mateo esperaba pacientemente y sin interés alguno a que la comida estuviese lista, los silencios se extendían como nubes negras vaticinando tormentas. Mateo quien se sentía inmensamente incomodo, en un intento vano de llevar la orquesta, se dedico a llenar los silencios con comentarios que pretendían ser ingeniosos y que en medio del apartamento francamente sonaban a balbuceos idiotas. Aburrido empezó a dar vueltas por la cocina, tratando de similar ser diligente, vio unas cuentas hojitas algo secas que parecían estorbar en el rellano de la cocina así que prolijamente las recogió y tiro en la basura
Mientras cabeceaba en el sillón naranja de la viuda –porque Francisca era viuda desde hacia 15 anos- escucho que preguntaba:
-Has visto el orégano que tenia secándose???
Dándose cuenta en ese momento que aquellas hojitas mustias eran elemento importante para el manjar de la noche, entre el sonrojo y la realización de su estupidez no le quedo otra que musitar
-Las tire. Pensé que eran basurita-
La viuda entro en una histeria inmediata que aunque trato de disimular, igual se le quemaron las berenjenas en el horno. Con voz que sonaba un poco a reclamo le explico a Mateo que desde que sabia que Mateo llegaría a cenar había estado secándolas, que las había cortado de su propio jardín ( y donde esta el jardín pues? aaah esas macetitas mustias en el balcón?); que el pescado a la Femorola no iba a salir igual (igual si a el ni le gustaba el pescado!). En fin...
Es anoche no hubo nada, y como diablos si la viuda estaba disgustada, sin embargo, si le permitió sentir sus carnes tibias y blanditas y pudo notar que aun había algo de fuego por allí
Tras una semana de aburrimiento le tuvo que dar una llamadita…, salieron otra vez y esta vez si hubo apechugones y apretujones y besos jadeantes que prometían bastante a pesar de las blanduras- Es evidente que la abstinencia obligada además de calentura produce ceguera
En fin de repente y de la nada la viuda empezó a hacer pucheros.
- A ver mujer que te pasa mujer - cual es la cosa?
Por lo que a Mateo le parecieron horas, la viuda empezó a relatarle algunas cosillas de su realidad, una hija cleptomana, un hijo homosexual, depresiones agudas, alcohólicos anónimos, deudas, en fin… mas tragedia y drama de lo que podía digerir con la empatia esperada. Sin poder evitarlo se le escapo un bostezo
La viuda levantándose ofendida le abrió la puerta de entrada y le hizo el gesto. Mateo salio como gato escaldado agradecidísimo con el Altísimo por la oportunidad de huir ileso
A la semana recibió la consabida carta en la que se le explicaba que su crueldad no tenia limite. -Ella, Francisca Aguado, escribió la viuda- había pasado por todo, absolutamente todo en la vida; accidentes, muertes, fuego, pestes..pero nunca había experimentado una crueldad como la de Mateo
Perplejo tiro la carta en el basurero. No entendía como alguien tan culto no sabia que algunas monosílabas aun se tildaban. Además, ya le quedaba poco pelo y cuando se lo traba de alborotar le quedaba muy mal
Lastima eso si pues cocinaba muy bien!
Por otro lado deteniéndose un segundo mas en el tema y tratando de eliminar el pensamiento, recordó que los pies de Francisca se asemejaban a algo anfibio que no lograba definir
Volteándose, continuo ordenando el escritorio mientras que silbaba "Bye Bye baby, baby good bye"

La segunda cita fue con Arabella de Maine, clásica snob de sangre azul que había asistido a Yorktown y se había graduado de Yale. Tenia dos hijos y un divorcio con un vividor, Aunque parecía caballo tenia algo de culta y quizás-pensaba Mateo, deleitándose con las posibilidades- hasta podrían viajar juntos. Se cayeron bien y disfrutaron de la compania mutua pero al cabo de un rato de estar escuchandola hablar de lo que eran los del Boston Tea Party, Mateo se removió incomodo en la silla y un enorme dolor en el estomago que le provocaría gases por una semana empezó a torturarle
Luego que le explicara como se comían las langostas en Maine y de la Dinastia de donde provenía, quedo harto de observar la caballuna quijada con simetría de noble linaje, ...además su esfuerzos por ser divertida eran patéticos y algo masculinos

-Buenas noches Arabella, cuídate mucho! (según los tips dados por el sitio web , esa era la mejor formula para que entendieran que no habría una segunda cita)

La tercera intentona ya algo cansado y aburrido fue con Penélope Figueroa; en sus 50 también, Penélope le aseguraba por teléfono y por cartas que nunca se arrepentiría de conocerla, que las fotos no le hacían ningún favor y que vería que bien se la pasarían. La invito a una hamburguesa pues no estaba ya para estarse gastando mas lenes en puras pendejadas. Llego antes de la hora acordada a la cita y mientras la esperaba, se burlaba de si mismo pensando en las situaciones en las que el solito se colocaba. Penélope llego en su flamante carro verde y al pasar frente a el, le toco la bocina para saludarle. Al levantar la cabeza, Mateo la reconoció por el color de blusa que le había dicho, llevaría. Con la gallardía de su estirpe, disimulo su horror y desencanto al verla y cuando ella termino de pasar, dejo caer la cabeza en gesto de total derrota!
Como supero las dos horas y media que duro la cita, no hay forma correcta de relatarlo, y sin embargo, a la fecha Penélope Figueroa lo sigue llamando para decirle que es todo un caballero- un ángel sobre la tierra…,- eso si, y hay que reconocerlo- pensaba Mateo, -los pepinillos fritos que ordenaron estaban muy buenos!-

Después probo con la académica Brigitte, quien además de culta tenia una figura de amazona. Igual -como nada es perfecto- si sonreía los dientes asemejaban un clavicordio viejo y aporreado, pero en fin una cena era solo una cena. y no se puede tener todo, verdad?
Le llevo otras dos horas poder cortar con la catarata de monologo interior que se montaba la rubia. Intrigado por la aparición constante de “mi ex novio por aquí, mi ex novio por allá", dentro de la conversación, le pregunto fascinado (era la primera vez que alguna de ellas admitía un pasado) que hacia cuanto había roto con su prometido. Ella, entre remisa y encantada de acceder al tema , exclamo: -El 4 de julio!- como si fuese hace un ano cuando solamente hacia 5 días. Si hubiese sido caballo de carrera no hubiera podido salir del restaurante mas rápido; sin embargo la tentación de ejercer su profesión fallida de terapista lo mantuvo pegado al asiento por una hora mas en lo que intentaba hacerle ver que aun no había superado el incidente. Briggite insistía que no, que era caso cerrado y que nunca había conocido a alguien como Mateo y que las señales eran claras. –Eres lo que tanto tiempo he esperado! ( Asi? Y donde dejamos el 4 de julio entonces!?)

Contento se despidió de Brigitte sabiendo que cada quien seguiría en paz con su camino ya que el, en lo particular, no estaba interesado. Ya tendría ella que ver que hacia. En la puerta, Brigitte le recordó dulcemente que al principio de su cita, Mateo había prometido que iría a su casa a revisar unas esculturas que Brigitte había comprado donde un anticuario ya que se había dado a la tarea de empezar una colección; así que la semana siguiente, se reunió con ella de nuevo, esta vez en su casa. En realidad lo único que quizás tuviese algún valor interesante dentro de sus colecciones era una replica bastante buena de Los Anos Maduros… ; cuando entro a la casa efectivamente pudo notar que la tal Brigitte era sin duda alguna una coleccionista; coleccionista de periódicos, libros, revistas, bolsas de supermercado, baratijas, esculturas , pinturas, ceniceros, candelas, ropa, cajas,botes de vidrio, corchos, y todo lo que se les pueda ocurrir de tal forma que aunque busco diligentemente donde poder sentarse, no encontró un solo espacio libre donde poder hacerlo.
La Brigitte, al sentirse observada, echándose un bostezo largo, pudo mascullar, -tengo que ordenar verdad, ?-.
De nuevo elegantemente y agradeciéndole a Dios por conservarle la vida , y temiendo que la amazona coleccionara implementos masculinos vivos y luego necrofilados, de un salto se metió en su carrito blanco y partió derechito al primer bar que encontró, donde, de un par de tragos, se bajo una botella de vodka de la mejor calidad preguntándose con filosofía porque los rusos no habían arrasado con Alemania cuando pudieron..A los pocos minutos recibió un mensaje en u celular donde le deseaba mucha suerte en el invierno que se aproximaba.

Pasaron mas de 3 meses en los cuales Mateo se dedico de lleno al trabajo, a la comida y a la bebida -tiempo que al recordar, reconoce que se la paso bárbaro -. Y sin embargo los amigos y el jefe le sermoneaban todo el día.
-Mira Mateo que una buena cojida hace falta, si no te vas a morir eunuco y viejo. Por allí hay montón de chavitas que se mueren por una buena volteada- Si seguís esperando ya ni se te va a parar viejo.
Y su hermana Antonieta no lo dejaba tampoco en paz. -Mateo, tenes que ver quien te plancha las camisas , asi no podes andar por el mundo todo arrugado y salvaje!-

Así que obedientemente y mas por sacudirselos de encima, decidió intentarlo una vez mas jurandose que seria la ultima vez que probaría suerte así, si esta no resultaba, se condenara a una vejez solitaria y vacía
Por lo que abriendo el sitio web por ultima vez, escogió entre los nuevas posibilidades a alguien que ni se encontraba dentro de la lista, ni había sido nunca considerada como posible candidata y quien habría de llevarse el premio mayor: Maureen Mc' Carrot- la irlandesita
Joven aun y llena de vida, con los ojos azules mas lindos que le sonrieran jamás y con la pureza de espíritu de alguien genuinamente bueno y la tenacidad de alguien que sabe bien lo que quiere, Maureen le cautivo desde el principio con su energía y su arrollador encanto e insistencia
Ella tambien desde un principio lo reconoció como el esperado, el elegido, el único.
Se volcó hacia Mateo con una devoción y un compromiso que provocaba pánico. Como claramente viera que el vestido de la primera cita no había arrojado el resultado esperado, la siguiente semana le suplico que la acompañara al mall. Allí, ante el horror de Mateo, se compro todo un ajuar de ropa para cada una de las estaciones de los próximos 5 anos…incluso con un poco de discreción y disimulo, (al Cesar lo que es del Cesar) un probable vestido de novia- (claro que no se lo dijo pero era blanco y largo y tenia incluido el velo…. ).
Lo que exaspero mas a Mateo no fue tanto que le pidiera que la acompanara,o ni tampoco el vestido de novia (total si todos podemos lubricar fantasías y sueños) , ni tampoco que exigiese su opinion para cada pieza, sino que las comprase -si y solo si- Mateo aprobaba. El momento mas espantoso fue cuando le salio del vestidor en un calzón morado de seda para que tocara la suavidad de la tela.

Pasado el susto de la primera semana y únicamente por esa alegría que solo un irlandés da, Mateo fue a su casa
La misma había sido recién redecorada y bien valía la pena conocer mas de la pequeñita zanahoria. Delgadita vibrante y simpática, Maureen le soltó al entrar. -"Para mi es muy importante que mis gatos te acepten, Mateo, si ellos te aceptan, estamos hechos.
(en serio? hechos para que? Jesús y María Santisisisima, donde y a que horas me metí en esto????!!! )
Cabalmente los gatos encantados con los pantalones extraños, se pasaron la tarde entera restregándose contra las piernas de Mateo. Maureen extasiada reconocía como otra señal los arrumacos felinos. -"Eres tu Mateo, eres tu el que fue hecho para mi"
Sin embargo, a pesar de ser nuevamente "el elegido", cuando se encontraban perdiendose entre besos y caricias, Maureen exclamo:- " Los mininos necesitan atención y calidad de tiempo, asi que, si me disculpas, debo ir a atenderlos"-
Con todo y todo, Mateo paso una tarde entretenida y se despidió pensando que quizás si llamaría la siguiente semana.- (Al fin y al cabo, Los gatos son manejables- )

Dando casi por cerrado el capitulo "sitio web" en su vida, pero pensando que igual había pagado el servicio por un ano completo, se prometió a si mismo que se daría un descanso que durase los próximos 50 anos, pero sin cerrar su perfil ya que:- Vaya! Un ano pagado es un ano pagado!-, decidió modificar su perfil -por si acaso- con los siguientes requisitos:

1. De preferencia, pericas de mascota (no supo que otra cosa mas agregar…)

Al llegar a su casa , rascándose los huevos, se dirigió a su sillón favorito donde al cabo de cinco minutos roncaba feliz y a pierna suelta mientras las babas se le deslizaban por la comisura izquierda

De seguro sonaba con pericas

Beatriz Illescas

Last minute news in Contributions

Not withstanding the foregoing, without assuming any responsibility for the contents of such bizarre piece of news, we inform all parties interested, specially those who have bet in the matter that the results of the last race have been impugned.
Apparently, there was another racer in the end line which, it is believe due to its color was never seen. Yet without any doubt whatsoever, Solitude won this race

Cultural Differences and Immigration

We are all “los inmigrantes” , and the soul is The First Immigrant: The Soul cannot be held back by any imaginary boundary drawn against it; not by mountain ranges, not by rivers, nor by human scorn.
The Soul goes everywhere, like an old woman in her right mind, going anywhere she wishes, saying whatever she wants, bending to mend whatever is within her reach. Wherever the Soul migrates, it brings blessed and often desperately needed new life.

CPE

I shall begin by saying that everybody that is involved with the immigration phenomenon -detractors and defenders, victims and offenders, and everybody that might be interested in learning about the problems we are facing regarding immigration must be aware that what is visible to the eye is just the tip of the iceberg. In order to address the problems as humanely as possible we have the responsibility to learn as much as we can about them.



Even though countries like the USA or Spain might say that because undocumented people are illegally that humanitarian attitudes can be taken off of the table, I would argue that such countries should instead be teaching every enforcement officer that the undocumented are vulnerable human beings who are in the country for a number of reasons. Almost none of them come with the plan of committing a crime.



Detractors of illegal immigration assert that these people are stealing jobs to which Americans have the right. Defenders tell us that those are jobs that the majority of Americans refuse to do. In my opinion, neither of them are completely right. The educational level of the majority of Americans who refuse to do these kinds of jobs for the minimum wage is significantly higher than the level of education the majority of immigrants have. It is thus understandable that they do not want to perform these jobs. They have aspirations that are higher.

I do believe that the country of origin of the undocumented is primarily responsible for the social problems that have created illegal immigration. One of the responsibilities of any country is to provide education and health to its citizens and they should strive as well to create a healthy economic environment for its own nationals. That does not, however, mean that countries that struggle with illegal immigration can simply refuse to try to find productive solutions.

I will take some of your time to talk specifically about some cases with which I have been involved that demonstrate that enforcement authorities are not ALWAYS taking into consideration either cultural differences nor the basic needs of human beings when trying to resolve cases in which immigrants are involved.

One of them is the enforcement of the law that logically applies to American citizens who have been educated all their lives under certain beliefs, patterns and criteria specially in the enforcement of the law in civil cases . For example what is called_”UNION DE HECHO” (marital Union) in my country. The marital union between a young woman -a minor of 14, 15, or 16 years of age-and an adult male.(19, 20, 21 etc) whether it is an immoral thing or not, is a common practice among Latin American people especially among indigenous people And there’s a reason for this- it is common that women are expected to leave the paternal home in order to release their families of some financial burden to a family that it is already extremely poor, they are expected to provide help to the "husband" through delivering new members to the family to help in the fields at very young ages since theirs is an agricultural dependent economy. .Also the life expectancy of people there is much less than what it is here; so it is not only expected but also well seen that young women begin marital life at early ages

I repeat, many of those parameters or ways of living should be changed SPECIALLY in behalf of women, but as any cultural change it will take decades and we cannot or should not expect to make said change within a single generation which is used to it.



This was the case of A who got "married" with a 15 year old, he was 21, the parents in Guatemala gave their consent, they procreate a child, when the mother took the baby to the doctor the doctor called DFCS and the family was separated, the baby and the mother taken away from the father and he was charged with statutory rape. Fortunately, the judge considered custom (one of the principles of international law) and ruled on his behalf, the couple got married and they were reunited. But this was an exception, since the majority of times these men are sentenced to 30 years. SO for an action that would never be considered a crime in their country of origin, men might serve half of their lives in prison

Or the case of B who might be charged with Death Penalty for –allegedly- having killed her baby after she delivered it in an emergency room bathroom after waiting hours to be treated for the abdominal pain that brought her to the hospital in the first place. To believe that she didn’t know she was pregnant is impossible for any western well educated woman, yet such ignorance is possible

AGAIN there’s no excuse nor justification for actions like this, IT IS still a crime but at the same time, this person is going to receive the full force of the law when her education, her contact with the world and any information in regards to what life is, birth control, what an abortion is etc was never at her disposal. Yet she is being judged without taking said facts as mitigating circumstances, when they are. Culturally we are the product of what we have lived, been taught, etc…so enforcement officers should never disregard the differences that has to do with culture specially when there’s a clash of two or maybe three different cultures and the gaps that do exist in the education of the persons involved should not be disregarded

On one hand one has the laws, cultural environment, the expected behavior in a country that is dealing with the illegal unwanted immigrant population and what it is expected IMMEDIATELY from them even though they don't have any idea of what they might be violating, and on the other hand one has the immigrant population striving to succeed and assimilate in a culture that is extremely different from theirs at a pace that in the majority of cases is impossible to follow

Language, beliefs, lack of opportunities, cultural differences are only some of the factors that will be ignored when evaluating the actions of the undocumented population. But then again how could that be taken into account if enforcement officers have not been properly educated (trained, prepared)?

The separation of families that involved children born as American Citizens is another occurrence that happens every day, that should be avoid and which clearly shows that in some instances there might be a tangible disrespect from the authorities or a tremendous ignorance in regards to the basic rights any person should have not withstanding his/ her immigration status,



As an example I would like to cite the case of C whose children were taken away because they were badly nourished and sick but also -basically- because the parents were ignorant, poor, and undocumented, and I’m citing some of the repost I have had at sight regarding this case His intentions to be the father his children deserved according to his own natural feelings and his efforts to comply with whichever task or requirements were imposed upon him were never taken in to consideration and these parents of 5 impaired children were separated from the children they love , forced to spend money they didn’t have in lawyers who didn’t excel in their job, and to take many trips to the consulate -4 hours away- and up to this date almost two years afterwards they have not been able to reunite with their family; the children are still sick because the disease was a genetic disease that is very difficult to overcome or cure Today the children are living separated from their family in foster homes that no matter how good they are, are not their real family. The parents are struggling with judges trials, depos etc trying to understand why their children are not allowed to live with them and it is highly probable that their parentals rights will soon be terminated..but based on what?



Should we not help these people rather than separate them?

The question here is: are we all doing our best efforts to keep families together, to respect human beings no matter where they come from and to address difficult matters such as illegal immigration in a way that will always take into account that we are dealing with human beings that are vulnerable and, in the majority of cases, eager to learn, improve, work and assimilate. And what are the implications for the future if we continue to separate families? For example, could we be helping in the long run the persistence of gangs by not keeping families together?


If we determine that the undocumented must be returned to their country of origin, then I still say that we should elevate our voice, and point out injustices and violations of human rights. I’m not talking about constitutional rights for those who are not entitled to them, but simply the right to be treated as humans beings. People who are only striving for a better life. Each of us may have different views of the many problems that illegal immigration raises, but each of us, as privileged citizens, should strive to act with respect for our fellow human fellows who in the end have only sought a better life for themselves and their families – who strive for the dream that is uniquely American, the American Dream.

B Illescas
Kennesaw Seminar on immigration
Octobre 2008

Contribution

"And they're off - it's Dutchboy jumping out to an early lead, followed by Nameless and Ex-Fiance into the first turn. Ex-Husband never even got out of the gate and is going back to the stable. Dutchboy continues to turn it on - wait a minute! Dutchboy's thrown a shoe and has stopped! Dutchboy has stopped! Now, it's Psycho battling it out with Ex-Fiance, and here comes Little Red! Little Red's coming on strong! Psycho drops back, and it's Little Red and Ex-Fiance! Little Red's neck and neck with Ex-Fiance, who's still holding on! Little Red may have more energy - he's prancing like a thoroughbred! Ex-Fiance's still hanging in! Dutchboy is back in the race! Dutchboy is back in the race! He's coming up on the outside! Little Red looks worried! Ex-Fiance and Little Red are coming around the last turn! Dutchboy's making his move! It's Little Red by a nose! Little Red by a nose! Dutchboy's catching up. He's past Ex-Fiance! There's a hundred meters left, and Dutchboy may run out of time! Little Red and Dutchboy! Little Red and Dutchboy! Dutchboy's digging deep! Where does he get the energy?! Dutchboy's ahead! He's pulling ahead! There's no photo finish here, folks. It's Dutchboy crossing the line a full length ahead. Dutchboy to win; Little Red to place; and Ex-Fiance to show!"

KB

Im sorry

"The Passionate Seeker to Chance"

Like Poe, she buried her heart.

Her smile was the same.

Her laugh was the same.

Her life was the same.

Until he whispered “Te amo,” “Te amo,” and “Te amo”

at a surprising moment.

And she knew she’d never have peace again

with the pounding under the floorboards.

KB

"Daphnes Reply to the Seeker"

The pounding must be just an echo

and as an echo it is not real

a flat line had been pronounced

her mind just shut the final door

decided to have some peace

and chose the shadows and the quiet dawns

BI

"The Seeker Reply to the Nymph"

Sweet Nymph,

You are no ancient laurel tree; you’ve veins of deep desire.

Though weather-hardened you may be, survived the storms and fire,

Yet like the growth in early spring, true love may bloom anew,

Each blossom bears a solemn oath: a love that beckons you.

KB

CLOSING ARGUMENT

"To the winer, because if there is a loser, there must be then a winer"

March 2008

"Honorable Members of the Jury

It seems that many centuries ago, there was a person inside of me that believed that love existed and that it was precisely love what moved the world

I have chosen to play this role here, not knowing yet how they will call me inside this court, yet, I do believe I have the right to be standing right in front of you because nobody will know the facts about what has been endured here better than the accused and the accuser

Im here to apologize for having wasted your time so terribly by believing what I used to believe and for thinking -for a brief moment-that I could reach you by showing you -with actions and not only with words -that love, commitment and devotion might still exist in this world; by thinking too, that in spite of having made mistakes and in spite of having already lived, man has always had the right for believe that something better may be coming into his life, and more over , the right to begin again and again whatever he may dream of, for life is short and its end might be just around the corner; and finally, for believing that, in spite of the many flaws man can have, when the main ingredient is securely based between two people, nothing should go wrong and the best of chances should be given to them. So- having that into account-, there cannot be a better defense for the defendant than the words spoken by the defendant herself

I came here to apologize because that was once not only expected from me, but also stupidly requested to me in an absurd call that killed any hope I could have had in the past which I know now that it was there only as a result of traces of some unnecessary naivety that was the product of my being sometimes, still young at heart; so, I then, - not even sure up to this point for which I should apologize- indeed state for the record, that Im truly sorry for having believed once that I could teach some values and some understanding to a soul that was already wasted -at least regarding this case - due to the worst type of selfishness . Nevertheless, it is still my hope that seasons and maturity will provide said soul with the understanding and caring that people near it rightly deserve. Specially for its own benefit

It has been said that hope never dies, but oh it does indeed! But only after suffering a horrible agony might it be left to die slowly but definitely; and when this happens, it takes with it your very own life

And although here the death of hope is nothing but collateral damage, I might expect you to still be able to see how criminal that can be in a world where -precisely due to the loss of hope- people choose to merely exist instead of live and where feelings are maybe seen as something silly, stupid and diminished in some instances- and for sure in some others-, as a nuisance or as an impediment to get what you want.

Ladies of this jury: I present to you the world where we live…

The sorrow I feel for the losses I have had can never be eased by any joy that might come to this life again; yet, the instinct for survival is deep within myself because I still have to be strong for those who once-out of respect and compassion- gave this a chance- . But please but do not get mistaken by seeing me walking and talking and still trying to convey into words the death of a soul, for indeed, Im lost for the rest of my life

The prosecution has stated that what happened here was my sole responsibility. I accept that that might be true; but at the end, that comes to be irrelevant; the murderes were two, life imprisonment might be served by two desperate souls, even if only one is condemned … and it is clear that there is one corpse left and said corpse is filling the air that they breath with the stench of betrayal .

Nevertheless, if I am the sole responsible here, be sure Im serving my time harshly; yet, there is much more to be seen than what is visible to the simple eye

So again, honorable members of this jury, the soft yet powerful line overused by many, can be rightly use here:- "He ran into my knife... he ran into my knife ten times"
And, although there is no clear indication of who the murdered is and who the killer was, in my defense I will quote again what was said in those scenes: -" Well, I was in such a state of shock; I completely blacked out, I can't remember a thing. It wasn't until later, when I was washing the blood off my hands, (viciously) I even knew they (we) were dead."-

Yes, we, the interested parties herein, were given something unique that has been waste and consequently lost; something that in very few occasions people are bestow with. So I ask, NOT you members of this jury, but the world out there:

Should those people be judged in the same manner and by the same yardstick than those who never came even close to have what they had?

Should empty words and unfulfilled promises heard and believed by someone who was already hurt and vulnerable should be considered as mitigating circumstances for murder?

Should lies and fallacies should be accepted as palliatives for truth when truth was at the reach of the hand?

Should malice and manipulation can be ever forgiven without feeling desperate knowing that love and hope had been sacrificed for no reason?

Should compassion and understanding be given to murders and wasters when theres only one chance to do things right, thus not doing so, we condemn life itself?

Should quitting could ever be accepted as the proper thing to do when there was still a spark of caring?

The answer would be no, no, and no, as you may already know; at least, for these eyes and for this mind

The accused fought to achieve what was expected.

For what can be considered as a lifetime, and for what should be considered as a proof of commitment and loyalty, she gave what was requested, believed in what was described to her and hoped with wonder for a new beginning for the last time in her life; and although failing seems to have been a constant in the prosecutor's deeds through his entire life, this time there was someone who really believed in him

Can something else might be considered more despicable?

And indeed although he might state that there is no one else and that still, it is always she , the only one, time will prove that that is correct only when there is no flesh involved.

So honorable members of this jury, what goes around, comes around, and although that is not my wish but just a fact , here in this court, there's nothing to rule anymore, there's nothing to save anymore, there's nothing to condemn anymore, because everything is already lost, and what could have been once would never ever be. So after all, what remains to be said is that it is only injustice, it is only malice, it is only selfishness and vanity, and it is only waste what -here- have been served

And with that, ladies of the jury, I rest my case

Life's but a walking shadow, a poor player
That struts and frets his hour upon the stage
And then is heard no more: it is a tale
told by an idiot, full of sound and fury,
Signifying nothing.

(Macbeth)

"

Lyrics | Amanda Marshall - I’ll Be Okay lyrics

As Long As He Needs Me [Lyrics]

Slipping through my Fingers - Mama Mia Lyrics

Love cannot dwell with suspicion _Cupid to Psyche

Psyche, the most beautiful woman on Earth, has angered one of the vengeful Roman goddess Venus. Venus, jealous and angry over competition for her beauty title, sets in motion the plan to destroy Psyche. Cupid, Venus' son, was put on the duty to do so, shooting her with an arrow so that when she awakes to a vile creature(placed by her side by Venus) she will fall in love with it, but something happened. While invisible and in Psyche's room, Psyche awakens before Cupid can scratch her with his arrow and startles him. Cupid scratches himself and falls deeply in love with her. He became enamored with the beautiful Psyche. Cupid became Psyche anonymous lover, which angers Venus. She curses Psyche that she will not meet her a suitable husband or any husband. This upsets Cupid, vowing to shoot any arrows, which will cause no creature to fall in love, mate or marry and in turn cause Venus' temple to fall to ruins. After months of this, Venus gives in to Cupid's desires for Psyche. Cupid goes back to work shooting his arrows, restoring everything as it should be. Every creature mates and fall in love and the Earth is becomes young.

Though as all this is happening, no one desires Psyche as their wife. Psyche's parents consult an oracle who tell them to leave Psyche on the nearest mountain, saying her beauty is so great it is not meant for mortal man. The West Wind comes and carries Psyche to a far away palace where she is attended by invisible servants until nightfall, where her promised bridegroom comes and consummates their marriage. Cupid visits her every night to sleep with her but demands that she never light any lamps. Psyche is convinced by her spiteful sisters that she has married a serpent who will devour her and her then unborn child at the right time. They tell her to conceal a knife and lamp so that once her husband is asleep she is to light the lamp and slay him. She does this. As she lights the lamp, Psyche sees not a serpent but the fair Cupid himself, however she accidentally pricks herself with one of his arrows and falls madly in love with him. She begins to kiss him but a drop of oil falls onto Cupid's shoulder and wakes him. He flies away quickly, leaving Psyche to fall from the palace, sick at heart.

Psyche searches for her love, even asking Venus for help. Venus decides to trick Psyche by sending her on dangerous and life-threatening quest, where she gets help from creatures to succeed. Venus is angered by this and decides to send Venus to the Underworld to as the Queen of the Underworld to give her a box with a bit of beauty in it, since Venus' beauty is waning from carrying for her distraught son, who is upset over Psyche's distrust.

Psyche thinks the quickest way to the Underworld is to kill herself by jumping off a tower. The tower stops her and tells her of a way to get into the underworld, get past Ceres(the three headed dog) and to return alive. She is to do as she told and not eat anything but coarse bread will there. She does this and returns to the Living World alive with the box but becomes curious and greedy. She opens the box to take some of the beauty but finds not beauty but sleep that engulf her.

Cupid, who has forgive Psyche, flies to her and awakes her with a kiss. He flies her to Mount Olympus, after begging Jupiter - king of the Gods - to help him. Psyche becomes immortal and stays forever with Cupid, giving birth to Delight, goddess of pleasure.

This is the story of Psyche and Cupid that is instilled in the sculpture by Antonio Canova. The story was told within the 4th, 5th, and 6th book of Apuleius' "The Golden Ass", the only Latin novel to survive in its entirety. A mix of an allegory, myth, and fairytale, Cupid and Psyche's love is one that has enamored the world for ages.

Created in 1796, this is the first of two statutes Canova sculpted of the couple. With his wings outstretched, Cupid is seen swooping down to his sleeping lover, Psyche. The focus of the sculpture is created by their interlocking arms and Cupid's loving gaze. The life-like feel of the sculpture similar to that of Bernini and Rodin. Canova's execution of Neo-Classical is an example of perfect form and finish. The flesh of Cupid and Psyche is almost real in the marble as Psyche reaches up to her love and gazes undying into his eyes.

CEMETERY

Time slowly, but definite, runs everyday wasting this soul

people come and go, seasons begin and end,

my hands reach out, and theres always a call that its never voiced

And still overwhelming, this silence, that darkness

do not let me breath

so pushed, forced, in trance

Im heading to that lasting place,

Oh I have waited so long

I had hoped for some hope, and I did what I should

I then one day, there was nothing that there was to do

So I closed its eyes

perfumed its body

sealed its mouth and dressed it remains

Nothing would take me, heal me, fill me

and loved as I once was

Only here hidden in words

I find solace and comfort and its never too cold...

but what it was... is nevermore

and although I refuse to

I should put this to rest

He will never come back

and I would never be his

Plain White T's - Rhythm of Love with Lyrics

Viva La Vida (Lyrics)

"Im selfish, impatient and a little insecure.
I make mistakes, I am out of control and at times hard to handle.
But if you can't handle me at my worst, then you sure as hell don't deserve me at my best"

M Monroe

HABRA AUN ESPERANZA?

Cuando lo fuimos a ver con Rafa no esperábamos mucho. Habíamos hecho las averiguaciones del caso y realmente no había esperanza. De una forma u otra ya había sido condenado y lo que le esperaba era o la cárcel o continuar institucionalizado en el centro regional

Alli vimos doblados como en el vientre de su madre, hombres cansados de vivir; alli vimos caminar almas en pena con ojos desorbitados por el miedo. Que Dios nos ampare de un final asi!

Y llego Juan Gaspar, gordito y rellenito con esa humildad que solo el que sabe reconoce…. una barba que no cazaba con su gente, pero una mirada que revelaba todo. Ese dia ni hablo ni dijo mucho, sonrió eso si, con las preguntas de rigor que habrían de decirnos si era o no paisano nuestro. E indudablemente lo era.

No podia recordar mucho, asi que nos fuimos con las manos vacias. Pero quedo en nosotros su sonrisa y las palabras del interprete para la trabajadora social del centro:- "Recuerdate quien te enseño a montar bicicleta"-"Recuerate quien te enseno a nadar".

Cómo y en dónde pudo haber aprendido de la ninez si nunca fue nino!…como explicar esto a trabajadores que aunque intentan ayudar no conocen ni entienden ni podrian digerir el origen de los suenos por vivir y sobre quienes puede caer a veces la responsabilidad de un resultado fatal

Preocupada por saber si habia existido justicia, y si se habia dado el debido proceso pero al mismo tiempo rechazando el tema y sabiendo con mi propia sangre que puede ser muy cierto, quise hacer mi parte y busque ayuda. Si realmente habia habido o no abuso o intencion de abuso, era ya cuestion resuelta y sentenciada y quedaba entre Dios y el y quien le habia acusado.
Investigamos y con la ayuda del Dr Lebaron encontramos quine hablara es que seria probablemente su idioma maya

Asi que dos semanas despues le llevamos a Pedro Ixcoy de Cabrican quien hablaba Mam
Le explique a Pedro qué queria…qué era lo que necesitabamos. Alan, comos siempre callado y respetuoso, apoyandome y preocupandose por gente que no tiene ni pecas ni el cabello rojo como lo fue el de el un dia

Ante los 4 pares de ojos que observaban se dio el milagro. Llego, callado y aceptando… "lejano" quizas por tanta medicina y se sento. Le pregunte si me recordaba, no me puso ninguna atencion; le explique que necesitaba de nuevo que hiciera el esfuerzo por recordar; que para encontrar a sus padres y hacerles saber que estaba vivo necesitaba mas informacion, que habia traido a alguien que creia yo, hablaba su mismo idioma

Y Pedro se volvio hacia el y se dio el milagro. Al tiempo que las palabras extranas y entrecortadas brotaban de sus labios, la mirada del perdido se iba iluminando y la sonrisa con dientes manchados se iba haciendo sincera y ancha y en medio del asombro de unos y la emocion de todos se dio el milagro del entendimiento y se dio el milagro de la esperanza

De alli sali cargada de pesar por ese encierro, pero tambien de informacion valiosa para quizas poder cambiar un destino devastador

-Quó te dijo, Pedro, por que lo hizo?! "
Me dijo: "porque era lindo su pelo"


En un pais donde el absurdo baila con la histeria no solo en las noches sino tambien en el dia, un sencillo campesino estiro su mano para tocar un cabello dorado y reir en respuesta de una risa inocente y sin que entiendiese de donde venian, en un cerrar de ojos los jinetes del terror, del abuso, de la desconfianza y del racismo se lanzaron sobre el.

Y en ese instante recorde a Stephanie Pretz en Steps tomada del dedo de Don Juanito nuestro guardian y comprendo el abismo que la desconfianza y el asumir puede poner entre la justicia y la presuncion de inocencia

No pretendo dar lugar a quijotescas conclusiones porque la verdad no esta ya a nuestro alcance. Que habra habido detras? solo Dios sabe!, pero hasta donde yo he escuchado, aqui se sigue pregonando que nadie es culpable hasta que se demuestre lo contrario y Juan perdido en el laberinto de no entender que sucedia, se perdió en la negacion y en su incomprension fue testigo mudo de la firma sin tinta de una sentencia de tortura perpetua que nunca tuvo un debido proceso

Si. En un mundo donde se vende a raudales y a precio de nada lo mas sucio y bajo del ser humano, donde la inocencia es mancillada casi al mismo tiempo que se corta el cordon umbilical, donde se habla de suenos y donde se cortan de raz esperanzas e ideales, donde se lucha aun por lo que fue y donde se pierde lo que pudo ser, donde un ser lastimado de muerte busca escape y es abrumado con imposibles mientras se ofrece una mentira a cambio de experimentar, donde la gente muere por dentro porque no cazo en el sistema ni supo bailarle al mismo; donde se pregunta a un nino si se puede confiar en quien le dio la vida y donde luego se olvida que aun tiene un alma que necesita de guia…en un mundo cabal , estricto y ordenando donde se yerguen mil dedos senalando y se hace una justicia subjetiva y conveniente y donde luego todos orgullosos y ufanos se van a comer sus hamburguesas y a dar gracias a Dios antes del primer bocado.
Si. En un mundo que no tiene fronteras ni limites reales porque todos coinciden en que sea permitido, en un mundo asi duermen los pedros que queriendo alcanzar un sueno , despertaron un dia en medio de un infierno.

Y sin embargo, una semana despues escucho a la esperanza hablar de nuevo y todo vuelve a brillar. Pedro, moviendose entre la red maravillosa que aun mantienen, ha encontrado a su familia quien lo daba por muerto en los Corrales!
Imposible describir con palabras el encuentro de todos con la esperanza…l importante es que se dio y que no importa entonces tanto lo que vemos cada dia si a los que nos importa hacemos lo que debemos por estirar la mano y tocar corazones

Beatriz Illescas
Consul de Guatemala en Atlanta