MAD LOVE

"I have loved to the point of madness; that which is called madness, that which to me, is the only sensible way to love." Francois Sagan


Love...........
Such a powerful feeling impregnated on us!
It moves everything on and around us
With a force capable of giving all up for it.
It can make us cry, it can make us die,
But overall it makes us a reflection
Of that supreme being we like to call God.

Amor.............
Tal poderoso sentimiento en nosotros impregnado!
Nos mueve todo y lo mueve todo
Con una fuerza capaz de donarlo todo por.
Nos puede hacer llorar, y podemos hasta morir por él,
Pero sobretodo nos hace un reflejo
De aquel ser supremo al que llamamos Dios.

EL PERENNE OPTIMISTA

Para Vanesa

"Si lloras por el sol, las lágrimas no te dejarán ver las estrellas" Rabindranath Tagore

A veces nos detenemos a contemplar
Cuán hermosa la vida puede ser
Envez de enfocarnos en la fealdad
De todo aquello que nos rodea.

Es como un lenguaje vernacular
Aprendido desde nuestro nacer
Que nos instiga a negar la maldad
Y abrazar solo aquello que hermosea.

El optimismo nos obliga a batallar
Haciendo nuestra vida resplandecer
Engrandeciendo así la humanidad
Y de nuestra vida una presea.

HOW TALL WE HAVE GROWN

"In youth we learn; in age we understand"
By Marie Von Ebner-Eschenbach.


Seems like only yesterday
When we spread our wings
So anxiously to start life
Without knowing really how.

Our youth is our holiday
Where we used to be kings
And worries were not rife
Living only for the now.

Now is about the everyday
And more important things
Now life has no strife
Only blows that I dare avow.

SOLITUDE

"Water, water, everywhere,
Nor any drop to drink."
From The Rhyme of the Ancient Mariner
by Samuel Taylor Coleridge.


Sometimes the longest hour approaches feverish
Trying to accumulate your lesser emotions
And the Zoroastrian struggle continues
Coming heavily upon the shoulders of your soul.

Like the old ship lost without hope, it seemed,
Navigating aloof over the unforgiven waves
My essence cried looking for its albatross
Who would rescue my own distinct existence at the end.

Perceived, or not, the reality of my own life
Rises above everything that I believe or not
To hit me in the face like a blunt wind.
So here I am, here I stand with a bracing heart.

MIRACLE AT THE PIER

To Jan Mara


I have always celebrated the humanity in people. I get a kick out of acts of benevolence that, to me, should come naturally. In spite of all the history of bad things that as human beings we should be ashamed of, sometimes you come across moments in your life when you want to celebrate the goodness in us.
An it is one of those occasions where I found myself when sharing libations with my friends at some table in some place..... This story is not mine, it belongs to my friend but I would like to share it with you anyway.

It must have been very late at night when I found myself cleaning the last scraps of food and organizing all the containers and equipment we used that evening to cater that party at the Timothy Finny, one of the ships I used to work by then.
I remember the cool air playing with my curls and that fresh air that hit my skin so gently. While I was taking a breath I stared down to the pier, that looked very quiet and somber at those early hours, and saw a figure standing. I figured out was a woman, by the clothing she was wearing, and struck me as odd somebody would be at that time just standing there; specially a woman.
I came down to see if she was okay and when I came close I saw her. A middle age woman with clean clothes and a very sad semblance.
"Hi, my name is Jan" I said extending my hand "What is your name?" I asked.
She looked at me and replied "Thank you, thank you very much!"
I was perplexed by her answer; and then she said:
"Nobody have ever asked for my name before, you are the first one to do it. Thank you. My name is Maria".
"Nice to meet you Maria" I replied. "I was wondering if I could help you somehow".
"Well I would appreciate if you can give me some food. I haven't eaten all day".
"Sure, wait for me while I go back up to the boat and get some food". I told her.
So I did and I came back with some bread, and pieces of meat and vegetables wrapped in aluminum paper.
"Listen, whenever you want to get something to eat, please comeback, ask for me if you don't see me and I will get something for you". I said.
"Thanks again. I will". She replied, and left.
For several times she came back until she stopped coming. For some years after that I never saw Maria again. Until one day when I was riding in the street car I saw her coming inside, I waved my hand and started calling her: "Maria, Maria".
She looked at me with a smile and I said: "Do you remember me? Jan from the ship at the pier. Remember?"
"Of course I remember you my dear friend". She said. "Listen, I have to get off next stop, but do me a favor". She said shaking my hand while placing something in it. "Play the lotto tonight and if you win you share it with me". Then she said goodbye.
That was the last time I saw her. I always wonder what happened to her. Would she be still alive? It's been more than twenty years ago since all these happened, and I still remember because I think I was very lucky to have known somebody like Maria.

THE END

TO MERCEDES SOSA

You will always be in my heart
For allowing me to cry
while listening in awe
To your eternal lyrics.

Thank you for your life
So full of meanings.
Thank you for your voice
carved in my memory forever.

Galopa Murrieta now in heaven
We salute you with pride
For being an "elegido" here in earth.
What a worthy life you lived!

We are sad but we are content
Just for walking along you.
Never a life is fully extinguished
When lived the way you did.

We are going to miss you
But your music always be there
To talk to us again
And remind us of why are we here for.

THINGS THAT I MISS ABOUT YOU

I miss to be loved the way you loved me
I miss the strength of your spirit
I miss your fire that kept me alive
I miss the nobility of your soul.

I miss every moment that gave us glee
I miss your warmth that kept me inspirit
I miss your smile that made me revive
I miss your heart and mine being afoul.

I miss the music and the bohemian spree
I miss your serene eyes full of esprit
I miss your wisdom teaching me to survive
I miss, most of all, the future unresolved.

IN CHARGE

"I am the master of my fate:
I am the captain of my soul."
from the poem Invictus by William Ernest Henley.


Not the impetuous wind
Nor the stubborn demon
Will prevent my being
From winning this race.

I was born to win.
Like a myth, I am daemon;
Like an equus geeing
To his righteous place.

So here I bring the grin
To show that like a freeman
I embrace the foreseeing
Of days with no wry face.

THE ARRIVAL

I can't recall the moment itself
When living became so heartfelt.
Living...yes... not merely existing
Like people with no faces.

Suddenly I began to see myself
Free of scars and with no welt
Eager to soar and not resisting
The lure of your embraces.

Now I am my own mountain shelf
With no fears and a thicker pelt
Reclaiming my soul with persisting
Reminders of past faces and places.

MY FIRST TASTE OF MAPLE SYRUP

To Jodi White


I can not ask you to even imagine what it feels to start all over again. It is like transplanting an old tree to its new soil. Or being under a kind of Protection Witness Program with a whole new identity where nobody knows who you are.
More or less that how I felt during my first days in my new home. After almost twenty years still carved in my memory all those wonders and expectations that I felt during those unforgettable times. But looking back I had to admit they were
mostly good times.
Of course coming from a country where English is not your first language, I had to attend school and enroll in ESL programs. It was there when I met some of the most compassionate and noble people in my life; until today I can say I have not met people with such moral calibre; and there is where my story begins.
I remember waking up one day in January after a week of arrival and looking outside the window, and stopping in time, just for a second, to admire with awe all that whiteness that covered everything around. I jumped out of bed and went outside to the street and I remember grabbing the snow with my two hands. I held it for a while just to experience the sensation of that cold white frozen dust. The only way I can compare is when somebody who was born here goes to a tropical beach for the first time and experience the sun and the saltiness of the water from the ocean. I am not sure because it is not the same but maybe the sensation of that first time is similar.
I remember going to school and trying to learn the language with the help of the teachers, by the way they preferred to be called instructors or facilitators instead of teachers. One of them was Jodi White, a woman with exceptional interpersonal skills, easy to talk to and very empathetic. She had dirty blond hair, a pair of lively blue eyes, and a fabulous smile that filled the whole classroom; maybe into her thirties and with one goal in mind: to make sure we learn English.
In one particular occasion the whole class was going on a trip to a farm that until today I don't remember where it is only that is somewhere in the north outside the city. The instructors were taking us to see how the maple syrup is made. The plan was to go in the wilderness in the middle of winter to observe how the maple trees are bled using an ancient native technique, all the process that include the boiling until the syrup is ready. We had two options: either bring along something to eat there, or bring some money to buy pancakes and then pour the maple syrup that was just made. I decided to bring something to eat. When the time came to go inside and start eating pancakes, Jodi noticed that I was not participating. She approached me and said: "Are you going to eat pancakes?".
With my broken English I replied: "No Jodi, I brought my own lunch with me"
She insisted saying: "Come on, have some with us"
I said: "No thanks Jodi, I told you I ate my lunch already".
She looked at me putting her arm around me saying: "I insist, come and join us"
I was about to say "no" again when in the middle of my sentence she stamped a kiss on my cheek. I never felt so vulnerable in my life. She disarmed completely. I couldn't say a word and with compliance and a feeling of blushes in my cheeks I sat down and joined the group.
I like to remember this passage in my life because very few times I have experienced genuine compassion from another human being. And this occasion was one of them.

THE END.

MY CONVERSATIONS WITH THE DEVIL (PART I)

You should have seen that scenario. I guess I shouldn't expect anything different anyway.
An ample dark room with no apparent walls, and I am sitting on a wooden chair facing a large oval mirror, with a kind of lime light emanating from it. The only thing missing was that cold fog surrounding the place. I thought, well, you can not have everything.

JOSE: I am going to start talking - I said looking at the mirror- before you do.
Otherwise it won't be good for my sanity. I like the mirror trick I must
say, even thought it is not original, it takes away the wandering.

DEVIL: If I represent myself in a specific more conventional way - said the image in
the mirror- I doubt you would take me seriously. Isn't it?

JOSE: You are probably right. I must add that I don't think I am the devil also.

DEVIL: Glad to hear that. So we are in the same page.

JOSE: Okay, let me think.... ummm.... Why I am here? This is not hell. Is it?

DEVIL: No. You can relax "Joseph Garcin". You are still very alive.
Perhaps you have some inquiries you would like to ask.

JOSE: Excellent! My first question. Do you really exists?
It is not for me but you must understand now and age many people don't even
believe in you anymore.

DEVIL: Excellent! It makes my job easier that way.

JOSE: I guess it does.
Why humans? I mean you came from celestial places before where everything was
a big eternal party with all your ethereal bodies.
It is not much better that kind of life?

DEVIL: Describe for me a typical day in your life.

JOSE: Ummmm... Let's see.... I get up, early if I have to go to work, if not I stay
late in bed. Then I have some breakfast or not, sometimes I only have a cup
of coffee. Then I

DEVIL: Enough! You answer your question already.
Your original grandfather did the same, in a way.

JOSE: The way things are now, looks like you are winning. But if I recall the thick
book, it is all a big set up.

DEVIL: If I believe in that script I wouldn't believe I had a chance. Would I?

JOSE: Point taken. I see you have "faith" in yourself.
Tell me, Why are we in the middle of your grudge with The Big Guy?

DEVIL: Because you have the key. Don't you understand?
What you are, what you are able to do is the center of all arguments.

JOSE: I have to take a moment and digest that information because I think I start
to understand now..........

TITANES EN EL RING

Cuando recuerdo los días en que íbamos a la escuela, siempre lo hago de una manera sentimental porque fueron quizás aquellos tiempos aún con inocencia.
Mis hermanos y yo asistíamos a la mejor escuela en Zacatecoluca; la Escuela Urbana Unificada Mixta Parroquial San Francisco. Conocida solamente como "La Parroquial".
Era un orgullo vestir aquel uniforme con pantalones de tela sincatex color celeste y una camisa blanca de dacrón, con el monograma en la bolsa de un lobo sosteniendo una antorcha en su trompa. La Parroquial era una escuela católica administrada por monjas
y la directora era Sor Margarita Tejada. Como lo pueden imaginar ella era muy estricta y todos los días antes de entrar a los salones de clases después de rezar el padre nuestro, el ave maría y el credo, formados en el patio, ella se paraba ante el micrófono y nos decía: "De que le sirve al hombre ganar el mundo si pierde el alma".
Yo iba a séptimo grado, mi hermano Carlos a quinto y mi otro hermano Orlando a cuarto. Todos los días despues de salir de la escuela nos gustaba detenernos afuera de la farmacia Santa Inés. Por aquel tiempo se les había metido hacer un tipo de concurso educativo en el cual un hombre con micrófono en mano, llamaba a estudiantes de cualquier escuela a participar en sus preguntas y respuestas. Se formaba una multidud de gente, asi parecía, en la acera. Nosotros que nos las llevávamos de "cocos" decidimos por fin un día a participar.
Primero fuí yo, por ser el mayor quizás, no sé. Mi oponente era otro niño de quinto grado, de otra escuela, y empezamos a hacernos preguntas el uno al otro. Preguntas relacionadas con lo que aprendíamos en clase y a nuestro nivel. Después de varios minutos de contestar y preguntar, el otro niño me derrotó con una pregunta compuesta acerca de las tribus pipiles que se establecieron en el país. De los ocho o diez nombres que tenía que contestar, me faltó uno y por eso perdí.
Mi hermano Carlos era el siguiente. El no fallaba ni una pregunta y parecía que iba a ser un éxito sin duda, hasta que su oponente no supo más que preguntar. Entonces sucedió lo que para Carlos fué la mas grande injusticia cometida. El hombre que sostenía el micrófono intervino y dijo: "Bueno.... si ya no hay mas preguntas yo te haré una muy fácil. Dime ¿Quién es el dueño de la farmacia Santa Inés?"
Mi hermano se quedó mudo al no saber la respuesta. No podía creer que aquel maistro moco seco le había hecho perder la competencia con una pregunta tan estúpida. Como un nino de diez años va a saber semejante cosa. Hasta esta fecha mi hermano Carlos resiente aquel hombre por haberle hecho perder de esa manera.
Finalmente era el turno de mi hermano menor Orlando. Carlos y yo lo jalamos a un lado y le dimos un entrenamiento intensivo para que ganara con plena seguridad y recuperara así el orgullo de nuestro nombre y nuestra escuela, los cuales nosotros no pudimos hacer.
"Orlando - le dijimos- pregúntale al otro niño lo siguiente:¿Quien descubrió El Salvador? la respuesta es: Andrés Niño". Recuerdo que le repetimos muchísimas veces a Orlando la pregunta que tenía que formular que los dos parecíamos entrenadores dándole instrucciones a nuestro pupilo, seguros que no podia fallar.
Nuestro hermano Orlando luego de haber sido asesorado extensivamente por nosotros, cogió el microfono en su mano y con un aire de confianza que solo había visto en los cantantes de la televisión, se paró con una pose piquetera y preguntó:
"¿Quién descubrió el mundo?".
Lo que aconteció a continuación fué una explosión de carcajadas del público presente seguida de un comentario sarcástico del maistro moco seco aludiendo que esa era una pregunta muy difícil y que quizás la única respuesta era "Dios".
Nos regresamos a casa derramando lagrimas los tres. Orlando por lo avergonzado que se sentía, y Carlos y yo por las carcajadas que nos íbamos tirando.

FIN

GODDESS

To Nancy Arandjelovic (my yugoslavian goddess)

Sometimes the roar of the wind
Turns the mountains to unease
And when the eagle soars too high
The naked eye has no chance.

All the fools strive for the win
But the mighty chooses the crease
Knowing the lack of light
And purpose of its romance.

Misunderstood, maybe forgotten......
Only the truth shines upon her
Blinding the mere mortals.
Her heart has not been rotted
By the swine wrongful maker
Of the rest.... not the immortals.

You belong in a different time
Where the precious inherit the earth
But it seems that your only crime
Is to be like a ship with no berth.

If I was good............
........... I'll see you in heaven.

But no matter..............
Because the gift of knowing you
has been given..........

VIVIR Y SOLO ESO

Llega un momento en nuestras vidas, me imagino
El cual nos detiene a pensar y meditar.
Creo que me ha tocado mi turno al fin
Pero no me asombro o le doy la importancia equivocada.

Ayuda un poco el poseer un espíritu libertino
Que nos asista para al final del día aclamar
lo que está sepultado y escondido en el confín
de nuestra alma tan pura y desvergonzada.

A WHISPER IN THE WIND

(something that I heard from Serrat)
To Nancy Arandjelovic


Like a whisper in the wind
With a brownish kind of hair
You fly low same as a little bird,
And go to chat with the clouds
And sleep in a hidden place
Where cats can not get
........ just like a little bird.

Born free as the wind
Does not have a master at all;
Feels pity for the canary
But does not envy the eagle.
Bird feed can not make a sale
Of her color, not her song,
She looks around to find her own.

Beautiful little brown bird
That in the race of life
wanders in the water fountains,
And from a stranger's hand never ate,
I salute you and celebrate your zest
And now that we crossed roads
You are part of me
Forever................

.....SEMOS MALOS.....

"En la barranca cercana, Goyo y su cipote huían a pedazos en los picos de los zopes," De SEMOS MALOS por Salvador Salazar Arrué.


Perdón por lo errático de mi alma al intentar alcanzarte
Sin saber como ni por qué estuve tan solaz,
Es la vida , me supongo, tan inmisericorde
Tan desatenta por no lograr lo deseado.

Deambulo a veces por allí como peón sin estandarte
Inútil en el intento de consumar, solo incapaz
Mi alma de jalarme para vertirme y no al desborde
De un final diseñado solo para un desjuiciado.

A LIFE'S CHANGING JOURNEY

My partner and I decided to run away to Guatemala. We did not know exactly where, we just knew we had to run away. It had been a near miss that last week of September in 1989, so we could not afford to stay.
-"But we do not know anybody over there" She said.
-"It is going to be okay. You'll see." I replied.
-"What about the application? It's about time we received an answer" she asked again.
-"We can't worry about that right now" I told her kissing her hands.
We boarded an overnight bus to Guatemala City and slept almost all the way, if it was not for the noise of the street vendors at the border, that woke us up, offering all kinds of fruits, snacks and drinks. We arrived early in the morning and after sipping a tasteless cup of coffee, and scouting the overcrowded streets, we opted to take another bus which would take us to the province; away from the multitudes, and to a safer place.
-"Where should we go?" my partner asked, scratching her head.
-"I don't know" I said cleaning my eyes with my knuckles.
"Anywhere, I guess, Panajachel maybe or Antigua"
-"Xela" she exclaimed with a vivid voice.
-"Xela? Xelaju?" I murmured.
-"Yes! I always wanted to go there. People say it is a beautiful place" She answered with excitement in her eyes.
I have to admit that was one of the best decisions we made because we were not prepared to encounter such a beautiful spot on earth.
After getting off of a colorful bus we set foot in a town in which we knew absolute nothing, and nobody.
-"And now what" I said.
Something that I always admired and loved from my partner was her ability to get out of situations like that. She had an extraordinary sense of survival that combined with common sense and guts, help her to make the most out of precarious situations.
-"Let's look for a Kingdom Hall" she told me while looking at my face, that at that moment, I am sure looked more puzzled than surprised.
-"Wait a minute" I said. "We are not members of that " club " ".
-"But my mother is!" She replied. "And you know how she always tried to make us members and talked from her elbows about it.I know the lingo well enough to pass for one of them."
-"What about me?" I asked.
-"We'll tell them you are a student of the bible and that you are in the process to become one of them."
It was clear to me after exploring not so many other options, that was a brilliant idea. Sure enough, we showed up to one of their buildings claiming to be a part of them. I have to tell you those people received us like they knew us forever.
Their kindness and help went beyond my expectations. We were invited to stay in one of their houses, as guests, while we remained in town.
That first night my partner didn't sleep well. She kept waking up in the middle of the night, trembling, reliving the nightmare that she had experienced only days before.
"It's okay, it's okay!" I whispered in her ears while I squeezed her tight in my arms.
Images from that fateful day when everybody lay dead, bodies ripped in pieces by the powerful gunshots from the hungry automatic guns, so hot, that the soldiers could barely hold on to them. She had survived only because the old man who owned that house was hugging her when the soldiers found them both, and he told them she was his daughter.
The next several weeks we spent breathing clean air, growing vegetables in huge backyards, learning some "Mam" and "Quechua" from the locals who didn't speak "castilla" as they call the Spanish language, visiting all the small towns around Lake Quezaltenango which are named after the twelve apostles, going to the hot spring houses that were in a small town called San Juan Ostuncalco, and in between all that going to all kinds of people speaking to them about God.
I have never felt so at peace with myself since I was living in that wonderful place.
So much simple heartiness about life! So rustic, and hence, so pure and uncomplicated.
We fell completely in love with our new home, and decided to stay and live there forever. But we had to come back first and make some arrangements.
We said goodbye to all our new friends, swearing that we would be back in a few days.
Sure enough our relatives were so relieved when they saw us, because they didn't know where we were exactly other than in Guatemala.
The sister of my partner gave her a piece of paper which she read. She lifted her eyes towards me, and without saying a word, she passed me the paper.
It was a telegram that read among other lines:
"Come to the airport next Thursday. Your flight is leaving at 7:30 a.m."

THE END

ESPERANDO EN LA ESPERANZA

No creí nunca haber seguido esta senda
Que me trajo de lugares tan lejanos,
Sin saber hasta donde llegaría este trajinar
Sin siquiera imaginar los retos afrentados.

I never believed I would have follow this path
That brought me from far away places,
Without knowing when this bustle around would end
Without even imagine the challenges faced.

Pero después de tantas veces intentar
Y luego de ver tantos logros cosechados,
No puedo quejarme de lo bella que es
mi vida por siempre esperar en la esperanza.

But after of so many times of trying for
And afterwards seeing so many fruits ripen,
I can not complain if I see how beautiful
My life is after always been waiting for hope.