My Blog

Runny nose? Itching eyes? Constant sneezing ? Welcome to the wonderful world of seasonal allergies. Here is a group mugshot of the culprits.

Now, if I just knew where I left my paper tissues…

Beautiful face
That like a daisy opens its petals to the sun
So do you
Open your face to me as I turn the page.

Enchanting smile
Any man would be under your spell,
Oh, beauty of a magazine.

How many poems have been written to you?
How many Dantes have written to you, Beatrice?
To your obsessive illusion
To you manufacture fantasy.

But today I won’t make one more Cliché
And write this poem to you.
No, no more clichés.

This poem is dedicated to those women
Whose beauty is in their charm,
In their intelligence,
In their character,
Not on their fabricated looks.

This poem is to you women,
That like a Shahrazade wake up
Everyday with a new story to tell,
A story that sings for change
That hopes for battles:
Battles for the love of the united flesh
Battles for passions aroused by a new day
Battle for the neglected rights
Or just battles to survive one more night.

Yes, to you women in a world of pain
To you, bright star in this ever-spending universe
To you, fighter of a thousand-and-one fights
To you, friend of my heart.

From now on, my head won’t look down to a magazine
Rather, it will contemplate the night
And its bright stars,
And so, no more clichés.

(Octavio Paz)

This Johnny Cash version of Trent Reznor’s Hurt is simply amazing. In his seventies, just before his death, it floods us with so many conflicting feelings in so little time that we feel shaken beyond belief.

You may notice no effort was made to hide his age. Johnny Cash is as raw as one can be. Pure talent. Trent was so touched by it that he even admitted the music was not his anymore. Does anyone wonder why?