Monday, April 4, 2011

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FRANCISCO SOLER JESUS \u200b\u200bMUÑOZ



FRANCISCO SOLER JESUS \u200b\u200bMUÑOZ



NATURAL SELECTION 1
LIVE



Living is an exercise

a constant attitude and drift while retaining the complex



essences of our emotions and feelings
2

WHY IS SHORT


Because it is brief,

cruel, terrible and merciless

the life we \u200b\u200blive, we cling to

she

to that on the day of

our own death


know that at least had the dignity


want to live,

to be kings of a tiny but splendid

glare.

3
OUR LIVES THAT ARE FRAGILE

That fragile our lives

that fleeting, that absurd

that cruel that

beautiful while they last. 4



ACCURACY

My son was predeceased by grandparents,

one did not know him, the other almost by photos,

assimilated than the grandparents die

and gives as good and logical to die when grandfather,

in security as I ask, looking into his eyes,

have children, of course I said firmly convinced.

... and we in ours, as uncertain.

THE DENSE MEMORY OF MY
CORPOREIDAD
The dense physicality of my memory

cauldron bubbles up in the beautiful

where odors are cooked

of my realities and dreams,

is both his background and the fine line

between truth and fantasy is so imperceptible




have been mixed to form a magma


so true and lucid

could not rescue

original flavors and textures.

6
way to feel ALIVE

way to feel alive

not walk to go

no more sense than moving for being

as inanimate object. Dar

light and rise to my concerns

filling them with ethical and development

sense of love for my feelings

order to gratify and endure.

the pit of my privacy
grow
see

satisfaction forged enduring values \u200b\u200b

substance future lives.
7 LIFE PATH


"And, as you know, the lot and thought it better."

FRAY LUIS DE LEON
I

With constant simplicity



peace in concert to calm the mind away from wealth


and hapless


honors in improved comfort feel

luengo recognize

after error,



the fortunes and my thoughts better.

II Trying to clarify





my constant doubts about the immortal soul and original

cosmic



rational culture before the coming evening


sustained by the richness of the stoic firmness


and the wise simplicity,

nurturing my mind.


8 NOVEMBER


NACE was born in November in a fall pregnant
spring


where only

ocher hues of green once

reveal the true season of our essences,

still inflated by huge desire


strengthen and enjoy our presence
rooted to the ground, in this November

born

peaceful signals

sudden wind to lighten the treetops

reminds us of the brevity of joy and

our prime reasons,

that have been tracing the meaning and direction

Search

that singular joy that is rewarding



our roots while fertilizing our offspring,

and cool mornings

forcing us to our intimate clothing



with feelings and facts

the time November gets underway

in time and the silver snowfalls cover the meager



branches decorated and we have

make that point of satisfaction

which gives a good living without feeling filled



but

the palate and the senses full, in good company


surrendering
go free beaten

in waking
9

NON SO I FEEL MY PRESENCE

I'm so oblivious to my presence
trapped
a changing body


imposed by circumstances
frame wrapped my existence

enduring witness of my weakness,

everything, depends on my stupid body

brittle, fleeting and cowardly

on the run to

before fleeing from life, collection of decrepitude

that will take me inevitably to death.


10
THE SLOW FLIGHT OF THE HOURS
"Flee not seen, slow day, and time

secret and modest

with silence comes ... FRANCISCO DE QUEVEDO





I
in intimate setting of urban desert

peace withdrawn its clarity mana,

through its deep windows

my music quiet and my arguments,

that attempt to fill my soul, strengthen

bathrooms and rich contemplation

memories and songbirds adorned with beautiful rhythms

intense vibrant dream and feverish

waves "that improves the slow flight hours."

II

Food
tricked
silently tracks
germinated in fleeting days, although I do not think so though

salute to the sparing of
confidence
met in timely and bitter

events but has been slowing its distance

as it grows its shroud

layer "to paint in the sediment of my limo."

III

Overcoming the fear of misery and frights

dark space of the infinite unknown

embers that nourish the dictate that everything matches when

opposite me tell you, be my consolation

sea Take me to your continued losses

find support there,

grace "to raise my soul with feet of clay."

11
THE DETERIORATION OF THE DAY IMPERCEPTIBLE

The imperceptible deterioration soft on knife switch



life that runs and pours liquidly

fleeting perceptions in amber, full breaths



eternal consciousness of immortality without limits or

measures that strive to sublime

greatness from tiny and fragile resonance

the slow decline of short power forward plans to



celestial souls there from which the most intangible

that covers the quiet existence that we pray

magnificent and eternal as the forces

ask us rest.

12
BUT I HAVE MOMENTS OF JOY

Although I have moments of joy

I feel that I live my own life

I'm hijacking my time bury me

of futility and loss,

to keep this feeling that

dream starts to rust

not corrode my heart

of frustration and anger

for all that I am leaving

to live and enjoy

unique and fragile in my life,

need to take the necessary risks to upload my



mountains make my mistakes and contemplate my

own sunsets,

not want to feel the need

to go back in my life

when you reach the age

to know that soon I will be dying

,

for failing

value determination and

the necessary delivery to make sure you have enjoyed

the fullness of my

own day.



13 DAYS NO-FLY IN MY LAND BOLTED

In my days without flying to the ground screw

lost her sight and I

outlines the contour of the figure of my beloved tenderness,

tangible, true, beautiful, bodily

well shown in the wide world of my retinas,

and clear that space without borders, we entrust our



secret dreams imagined caressing the curves, projecting

boundless dreams

fields clinging to the ground by an anchor light,

without the dryness and imposture of days

regulated by the endless accumulation of losses. ZIGZAG


the unfinished and accurate STONY

The sadness never ends, happiness itself.

why not enjoy it when it comes, is the largest

waste.



Vinicius De Moraes and accurate Weaving the endless stony

afflicting and accompany our lives,

barefoot in the brief and shaky and passed that

soft caresses of ferns

entering through the arches of the feet

to kiss in the book of our feelings,

those intense and pervasive

moments that touch, that kiss, those looks that

delivered another indelible memories essential shape,

be fully aware of feelings

only where the waste is not hollow. 15



GET TO THIS POINT DIFFUSE

The gods know what to come, the men what happened, and the wise

what looms. Philostratus




diffuse Getting to that point where you can step back on

self sustaining
incardinated
watching the passing

crossroads of meanders ...

recipient receiving the vibrations of the hanging.

Recibir el misterioso zumbido y trasladarlo

al depositario de mi inherente legado

para que cuide mis emociones y pasos

eligiendo el curso adecuado

para el devenir de mis futuros años.

Que al dejar mi incorpóreo estado

ya surcando el longevo camino deseado

la despensa de mi galera se colme

de los más nutritivos conocimientos

afluentes de gozo y tersura para mi espíritu.

En esos parajes de acontecimientos

hallar lo hermoso, lo noble, lo magnífico

saborearlo sin premura, tomándome mi tiempo,

y al llegar a puerto se elevasen
wealth
my soul yearns for the silos of Ithaca.



Mariana Bernárdez



16 WIDE, deep, dense, corporeal

Wide, deep, dense, corporeal,

unit itself, creator of land, shelter and Amazon

conveyor
the prodigal
material that makes up the dreams. Scenario

dreams of sophists and Aguirre,

slow flowing, abrupt, devastating, serene

phagocytes provider and empires of enigmatic golden

earthly and eternal. A transiting
ambitious


arteries of misery and deforestation driving
today
emporium a few

a putrid swamp morning all

others find the key point of diaphragms
G
ethereal space where pleasures grow

such that enjoy them, one must believe that there are,

rowers dreams with a sense of space and calm. Find the limo

smith enigmatic opening

point where he transcends the soul curdling close

and feel human creates the magical sense

of the fleeting and eternal time.

sailing for 17
TRIPTYCH

I

"The Loves, if they come with excessive vigor, or good reputation

not provide the man under

Euripides (in the mouth of Medea)


My life passed on by the momentum of the tense bow cyprid,

its sparkle was still smoldering
reminiscent
ulcerate the balance of my former golden quiet, sad love

which was powered by idyllic dreams where fascinating

torch was glimpsed

decoy led me inevitably to the field gullies Mars.

II
"I feel pain to remember how he kissed me and artfully
thinking
to abandon "PAPYRUS Grenfell



unrelenting pain I feel deep in my heart when I look kind

flashing resplendent in beautiful eyelids

more innocent child, charming and good, then remember

as cunning lips smeared passion

golden arches in my heart and my dreams, while preparing for stormy

sandstorm in the sky of my life.

III

"What do you do again? Your disposal What is the purpose?

Have not you noticed yet that you have gray hair at the temples? "

Theocritus

I let my fears and emboldened by foolish dreams and alienated drag

I was about to succumb again

the most bitter of grim misery,

my new age now I am dedicated to discrete noble thoughts away

from the ashes of my passion held,

... sensible voyage wish my days, hopefully in Ithaca is Aphrodite. 18



FIND HARD FEELINGS ANTHROPOLOGICAL

"I am moved by the little wisdoms

that any death is dying" JORGE LUIS BORGES



Find arduous anthropologists

emotions of the sensations experienced, able to rescue the tiny

essences still seething

in unexpected frequency with textures rubbing

of our finite bodies, submerging
indoors
labyrinths of our bowels,

of seasoned unknowns, a dial found yet.

magnificent sea poured in to the river of life the knowledge

jingles, sound affects and thoughts,

bygone images captured by eye, the magic

endemic transmitting life energy, which magma

receives those essences when being dies,

may not become the intimate and essential wisdom

because the memories are mixed with dreams,

and all carry an in Alexandria. 19



BELIEVE IN U.S. CURRENCY UNIT

"But theologians say that the further shadow of another kingdom

I will be waiting for me" JORGE LUIS BORGES




believe in the unity of us
divisible
without losing our integrity and identity,

despite losing our hardware

and being aware of our current dependence the same,

to be the voice of thought and where we feel the echo

as we ourselves without our brain and detached

neurons and physical frailty,

how we communicate and with whom or who

when we get into the unfathomable shadow

and we are waiting. 20



if we discovered THE TRUTH

If

we discovered the truth of what really we would fold

earth and sky, and then

would

of us in this trouble

where God kills , we would

free or helpless,

would enjoy the serenity and light
penaríamos
or darkness, meanwhile

rejoice in doubt.


21

LIVE, LIVE THE TRUTH

is a truism that life is a dream dream

a slight floating in our memory,

but is it perhaps not, our memories flowing lightweight

diffuse nebula volatile

revealed by that time heals all wounds they say

but what it does is remove the gaps in pain, give perspective resigned

year, full of

absences that were once rooted in

us the best and worst, of what surrounded us and were,

preserving the illusion that we not devour this

and landing on the shores endless whirlpools

of redeeming called Eternity,

in this sequence which will be incognito

our beautiful doubt, do not know who we are and we know

will be and how we, beautiful and inevitable,

but while here we are, live, really live.



In memory of Emily Dickinson


22

EVENING FLAME OF YOUR VOICE

"I just want the quiet, the cooing of your evening voice "WALT WHITMAN



In crystal balance, restraint, serenity,

prepared my heart for your tongue
ex
want my hour and a porch waiting

the magnificent moment of desired
peace
high full of compassion and knowledge, essential

men sounds all voices

structured

vertices linking us with the clarity that shines

nexus of thought and true love, feel the tender

spiral

my soul rise to the cadence of the cooing

of voice calls to your evening.


23
FEEL LIKE I FEEL

feel like I feel

is off while

fulgida feel the transformation in myself as his blood

fills me

coursing through my veins

sweat and sweat on my body ,


the heart beats in my passionate


chest as his gaze

the horizon of my dreams,


means so much to me I have no thoughts


where there is not no life

to share, live on two

permanent.


24
NOT KNOW IF I WILL ROCK

"Again Love, under his dark eyelids

setting in me the tender gaze of her eyes"

IBICO

I do not know if I will rock

for my shameful despair

plunging into the icy guzzling

greedy acolytes lovely Aphrodite
nutritional
magma overcome by spells

that is believed skilful deceit, desire no glimpse

never

Leucadia had already

brew ration for extended cyprid within me with fearful

I give prudence to the eyes that gleam

tenderness inextricable beam

in the inmost shrine of my soul,

not know if I take the steep

the beautiful light that bubbles beneath the dark

but I will not perish in the hollow

fixing monotonous indifference cervix
I will not continue sitting
which Penelope without Ulises

and looks great ugliness afraid.


ESE 25 DEEP HOLLOW


That gaping hole in the space
inhabited

hardness contours of painful

empty dream

weightless heaviness


holds my fibers feeding my essences of unfounded expectations



and as I went

of the space we inhabit as a probe



your absence I sought.


26
CORPÓREA

TONE OF SILENCE sound of silence
Corporal


flooded through my tears

aquifer and your eyes


harbinger of a hole so present and invisible


as nudity

of my hopes

those that crackle

in the absence of the secrets



never will we.



27 LOVE IS PARADISE
"Love is not a paradise, is loss of consciousness

personality "
ANTONIO GALA


paradise Love is not only

in the Platonic world is paradise where the gods

enjoy pleasures,

in our arid world is stripping

of conscience, were torn off piece by piece

which
Thumb
deposited on the busy road segments

our diminished personality,

time the primordial fire diminishes or disappears north

be back to the source.

28

NOT WANT TO KNOW THE LIMITS

I do not know the limits

my aural world embrace the comfortable



fences that delimit my current residence I have a


language

so huge and high in the vertical
his sword

not let the sun of the words

love

constant uncertainty that expands my

intangible domains with outposts of syllables forming brackets
rich
phonemes

I break all
Finistère
Domenico

fertile silt and spongy delight

stop being ignored stage of my troubled



steps and if grass eater my hesitation

fire atmospheres and meanings

slopes away large formations of proparoxytone



irregular components which ensures that my body

poetic mantra of fins, wings, gills, and vertigo, dizziness

a scroll to
lashes
membranes

my poetry and my sound silences them sprout

rams conquer himself,

go into the infinite open

where

hide my fears and the spiral of suck my lexicon
I ignore my
29
WANT TO FIND THE PROPER PSALMS I

find suitable psalms to recite as


Navajo shaman to give birth
the words repeat,

that my mouth saliesen walk

and formed his own voice

genuine, original and magical, their constant
intonations


multiply the magic of words

and sustain wealth

pillars of my creative writing,



find scattered essences from the radiant sun of my

Spain in the imagination of my Arizona
charged shamans
, syllables, words and flavors.



30

poetic object "is less a style than a transmitter of thoughts "WALT WHITMAN



In the firm belief that personality gives


Complete character

poet

develop its edges in the zeitgeist

in harmony without concession
longing to give voice

best auto


the clearest signal transmitting


thought


III

From subtle signal

create

lit space of sound stage

opponent of laws


time auscultation
fire of pristine voice

molding forms of multiple characters



spirit

receptor transmitting the elusive.


31 IS STILL THE STIMULUS


"stimulus that is still, spreading across the land

bloated, the moose" JOHN KEATS



In this world so subtly bloated

where we consume copious crying meninges

and white and gray matter

accommodated in parsimony and desist

languor of feeding from rich beauty which cross

channel openings feelings

of delights that catalyze these wishes and thoughts

emerging or full of Essential

such initiatives that distinguish us in the animal kingdom

simple beings, skillfully trained. In this land

systematically bloated

irreverent stimulus is necessary that we lift

of mediocrity: poetry.


32

Primal Devastation
not handle my palms and my emotions

airy and free, without macula
understanding
unlimited receivers

to reverse its contours

and enslaving me and sever its

indomitable conviction,

if you want your fill of free crystalline,

not deny their rights to vent their thirst

from the principles on which the molecule of hydro

the daybreak of his designs,

to nourish the brightness of the boreal morning

satiated of chiaroscuro of her beauty,
if you want the pipes of my palms

inappropriate and clay castings

outlining the edges of my freedom which

shoes of china

to reduce base

my balance before birth my hands.

33
an insatiable Injustice

devour the world Arrive, devouring emptiness

centuries and worlds,

like a huge tomb. Damaso Alonso



An injustice insatiable devouring the world,

in these times where miracles and gadgets

lead us to explore celestial constellations,

be exercised fuel, a certain future

with barcodes and security
success where valuable
rise above the poor,

no place for the weak at that stage

profiling towards progress in the weeded

dwindling

herbs just stay succulent medium

firewall to exercise while feeding the machine



generated waste and welfare

opulence of the few, over all a sky

gap, vast emptiness

where dead piglets, paid the

certainty of the best of all possible worlds,

as forest land burned

remain the millions of dreams

that will expire before sprouting

in the darkness of the black shadow.

Twenty thousand children die every day from preventable causes

34
inclement SPECTRAL DANCE WHITE COLLAR

"The mask dance between columns of blood and numbers

Between hurricanes of gold and groans of unemployed workers "
FEDERICO GARCIA LORCA



Spectral Dance

harsh white collar bones about swingeing network

vessels of gold that holds

murky waters of starving

and walking bottomless abyss. Centuria

without learning or

responses to the columns of needy
blood thirsty
viscous lubricant greed, insatiable

Pantagruel

flow feast where all the arteries vomit.

Low calcium grid where they dance

innocent drinkers tears

tubers sprout arms shadows surround

cuttlefish tentacles and ink

blinding of poor children. Labyrinth

tumultuous

bottomless fall of clocks without hands, or north, incessant



orbits cliff clear eyes that they ride the dancing meringues

silver feet.

Rugen million blind ant workers

aspiring heavenly worlds

unalterable faith and obedience, without consolation

gemidoras

details that make up hurricane gold teeth.
AURORA 35



"The dawn comes and the night gets in your mouth

because there is no tomorrow and hope possible. FEDERICO GARCIA LORCA




I-AURORA IN THE HUDSON BAY

auroras are emerging in the deepest night

exhaled by the time stopped tundra where the dawn

rests in the belly of the snow

set dance forms and breath of life,

of spectral spirits frolicking in the wilderness like children

livid through shamans,

purifies the nebula of the vastness of the open
leading
with their everyday experience rests

the dark twilight paradise clarity.


II-AURORA IN THE HUDSON RIVER MOUTH

auroras are clearly emerging in the most terrible

at dawn deceived by artificial lights

swarms of colored cement skies,

realm of laws, crying everyday rush of fear

where numbers

walk quietly devouring bowls families in cold mud. Hudson

lead hopeless

possible for the twenty-six thousand children die every day

welcomes the true light of the post.
36
PERFO
IN THESE TIMES

decoy "The poet despídanlo!

comes into play not

spends his days brooding "HEBERT PADILLA



In these treacherous times

lures a dizzying speed that we

disjointed slice us the intimate critical

substance with downloads sharp density impacts

with adequate overlapping responses

our

crave to know, to object,

interpreting the music of the meanings of words. This spectral

dreamless stage

no room for the game

unlikely to reflect on the tricks

that produce the numbers of colors that

added notionally charged

values \u200b\u200bin aseptic beautiful panels that obscure exercises

Abundantly shed blood of

insignificant and just losers.

In these difficult times
soulless
there is no gap on the shelves for debtors,

for leisurely musing of fools

always trying to find meaning,

essence, instead of accepting the game that marks

the relentless and stony inertia

solid base perfect

flat world where both upset the edges of the poets.


37

GINSBERG clearly had

"And they sent this message to young people

despising the poor and the liberal Jesus meaos

The message is Compassion cause the fall of Wall Street"

GINSBER ALLEN Ginsberg

I had it clear in his deathbed almost

after kicking the monster's entrails

to smell their excesses and bite their viscera,

knew where he saw the danger the devourer of all the insatiable

grindable monster Pharyngeal fireproof

incontinent excretory poor miserable, rich guano

collars of shirts, flowers and neat,

should not have compassion for the payment of

losers because they would lose their seed-germinating substance
adelgazarían
and also the

wallets just support a path of security and progress.



II Go and meaos in latrines where the poor dwell

those who have what they deserve, ugly and unhappy, asocial

lazy, dirty and unbelievers to pray if they pray to a god

unfair to those who protect His kingdom in this

land of heroes and victors pathetic villains,

and acted in good conscience do it because it is written

and duty to defend the word good stock

that is entrusted you and your just privileges.


38
BURNED ALL PROPERTIES

Calcinara all farms,

dreams and what it takes

to obtain or maintain their privileges,

the find wrapped up in all ideas, all

hopes in all faith,

transparent, safe, but serving

and corrupting the sweetest poison.

injustice has parents and has eaten

many worlds and centuries, and has no basis because

born in the bottom depths of humanity. Mal

despite us. 39


SEEMS THAT I'M JUST


"When the same dream I'm alone I reach out

not see the gap" Gastón Baquero




seems I'm alone in eternal
soliloquy, far, far away

of the great light of the island in darkness

industrious, builder

deep silences and gaps as my vacuum cold trap



envelops me like a stubborn dream, with caresses

of rapture that lead me and bring me into paths of

palms of silent ghosts

lactating udders

the silent face of nothingness.

Yes, it seems I'm alone

living in a world of darkness

order a breakaway, but dream

because I have no

or silence or the great light that causes shadows of

mangos, if I was Gastón Baquero. 40


ROPES RUMORS TRAI, RUMORS OF EAST

An apple will always be a lover but a lover

can never be an apple "FEDERICO GARCIA LORCA



Rumors brought ropes, rumors of East

reliable and musk incense caravans,

in supplies beyond Mesopotamia

collected

beautiful apple grafted on primitive flowering seasoning

sunrises and respond to the blind of the scale,

with golden eyes and smooth skin

fruit still intact lascivious bite but in vain

morning

seed in the lee of desire to battle fires back,

plead the magnificence of divine balance and

pears in limbo broody converted.

brought ropes Rumors, rumors of the East

caravans humps and tongues of snakes

one of the shiny apple grafted

the most innocent, fresh and attractive, was accused of fondling

the sting of pleasure night
nefarious
and walked inside collapsed

birthing bellies of snakes

knives in fresh juices seed multipliers;

blood snatched silenced by the hemp needed

and purity of gravity,

ropes brought rumors, rumors

Eastern spices and apples caravans snakes.


41
Camille Claudel

From the unknown and abandoned tomb

Where wasting time and space consciousness

In memory backbone

From the nameless and cold Where detention

shaped bones and ashes

food germinate

lips livid skies throw from invisible

scenarios to imagine days without

carved moldings

am not far from the proximity of blood
merciless fangs
Westfall

Torn lunar eclipse Gaia

From the windows of a preclusive time
of the inherent
The inherent freedom

captor character of
movement
Since the full moon of the sharp detail
Atalaya
broadcaster of the emphasis given

That lights the dark side of men

From the completeness of the search path

Fragrant melody of a future time

Away from the tracks their courageous steps

From the father, and overflowing joy

The strong complicity of dreams and ideals

From the stoup: Camille Ferrand
Orlando

A 42


IN THE WARS

In wars

reality is always more than what you see

and what is imagined, is



sublimation of the most heinous and cruel

people.



43 SOMETIMES WHEN BECOME

Sometimes when we

your evening

therapy for the long avenue naked

I have the loving impulse to let



get ahead and take a few steps of perspective ,

to watch you carefully feel

slowly as far as you see



increasingly independent and increases your natural beauty.

The good son of the world.



44





hope HOPE what our common sense

not understand or accept.
pray to God for my common sense

is a bucket of water in the ocean of understanding.



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