Quote my favorite favorite book

"There are essential and innessential insanities. The later are solar in character, the former are linked to the moon. Inessential insanities are a brittle amalgamation of ambition, aggression, and pre-adolescent anxiety garbage that should have been dumped long ago. Essential insanities are those impulses one instinctively senses are virtuous and correct, even though peers may regard them as coo-coo.

Inessential insanities get one in trouble with oneself. Essential insanities get one in trouble with others. It's always preferable to be in trouble with others. In fact, it may be essential. Poetry the best of it, is lunar and is concerned with the essential insanities. Journalism is solar (there are numerous news papers named The Sun, none called The Moon) and is devoted to the inessential"

TOM ROBBINS
Still Life With Woodpecker

In what moon are you at

Im eating the moon here
In what moon are you at?
Inspirational maybe.
Here im eating the moon,
is it that yours is growing?
is she in the same fase?
Turn the light on stranger.
Maybe it starts growing here
You with someone or me.

I keep eating the moon here.
I just want it to fade
until there is no face
and once more and again
it starts growing again.

In what moon are you at?
En que tiempo estarás?
it is waxing its face?
Or is it growing again?

LoveSpell: Against Endings by Erica Jong

"All the endings in my life
rise up against me
like that sea of troubles
Shakespeare mixed
with metaphors;
like Vikings in their boats
singing Wagner,
like witches
burning at
the stake--
I submit
to my fate.

I know beginnings,
their sweetnesses,
and endings,
their bitternesses--
but I do not know
continuance--
I do not know
the sweet demi-boredom
of life as it lingers,
of man and wife
regarding each other
across a table of shared witnesses,
of the hand-in-hand dreams
of those who have slept
a half-century together
in a bed so used and familiar
it is rutted
with love.

I would know that
before this life closes,
a soulmate to share my roses--
I would make a spell
with long grey beard hairs
and powdered rosemary and rue,
with the jacket of a tux
for a tall man
with broad shoulders,
who loves to dance;
with one blue contact lens
for his bluest eyes;
with honey in a jar
for his love of me;
with salt in a dish
for his love of sex and skin;
with crushed rose petals
for our bed;
with tubes of cerulean blue
and vermilion and rose madder
for his artist's eye;
with a dented Land-Rover fender
for his love of travel;
with a poem by Blake
for his love of innocence
revealed by experience;
with soft rain
and a bare head;
with hand-in-hand dreams on Mondays
and the land of fuck
on Sundays;
with mangoes, papayas
and limes,
and a house towering
above the sea.

Muse, I surrender
to thee.
Thy will be done,
not mine.

If this love spell
pleases you,
send me this lover,
this husband,
this dancing partner
for my empty bed
and let him fill me
from now
until I die.
I offer my bones,
my poems,
my luck with roses,
and the secret garden
I have found
walled in my center,
and the sunflower
who raises her head
despite her heavy seeds.

I am ready now, Muse,
to serve you faithfully
even with
a graceful dancing partner--
for I have learned
to stand alone.

Give me your blessing.
Let the next
epithalamion I write
be my own.
And let it last
more than the years
of my life--
and without the least
strain--
two lovers bareheaded
in a summer rain".

Mi primer Blog* When i´m a mermaid *

Ver, oir, sentir y callar. A veces parece que al decirlo se vuelve banal.

Lo primero que publico:

I sometimes take a pen and write.
Is just then when i feel like celebrating the flow of life underwater.
Then when i stop to think, i feel like flying far out the ocean where i should be.
Half human/woman. So sofocated out of the ocean or under my sea.