Which Is The Best Jivan Saral Or Bhima Gold

I CAN LIVE WITHOUT ALL 23 OF TEJERO

"You can live without anything," I said, by way of sentence, during an afternoon coffee with a friend, poet and musician, poet or a musician and friend, or with a fellow musician and poet.
We were sitting in a unique naming enclave, almost magical: in front of the facade of the Museo Ramón Gaya in Aromas cafe terrace, a short walk from the Plaza de Las Flores. The dialogue came to mind for my trip to Marrakech, recent, secular and shortcomings of these peoples, as the Moroccan, individuals are immersed in perpetual crisis, and it was derived, almost without transition, into more intimate domains: I remarked that once properties seemed to us indispensable, for example certain books or certain objects in the vicinity, suddenly no longer with us and no we used to do without, or teaches us that are dispensable. As he he rolled his cigarette, I thought of a poem by Borges entitled Things and concludes with this pair of heroic verse: "They will last beyond our forgetfulness. / No will ever know we're gone." But then he, the friend, musician and poet, or poet and musician friend, musician or poet and friend, before turning the wick and closer to the point of manufacture, gently corrected me with his usual foresight:
- With nothing , you say? You can live without everything.

Condoms In Between Regular And Magnum Comdonms

I remember that February 23 was fourteen I just turned-less of which now reach my children, I was playing ball in the street in my town and I knew vaguely what was going on because some neighbor said to another, in passing. I remember those children continued to play ball, and I remember this afternoon, just a while ago, I came back to play ball with my son, even if not on a street in that town and I am the child I remember being.
just want to add that it seems to me an eternity has passed since then.

Red Doujin De Pokemon May

MY HEAVEN POEM

What I can tell you today,
when the poet inside me
probably dead?

Where do I find
the right word to tell you what I feel?

After months without writing
know you are my time,
after months without writing
my heart back here looking
the story of the poet,
him that in his slumber
still sleeping peacefully.
Harassment "lose it?

I know you're my poetry,
my best poem,
although I do not have written,
because you were written by the divine hand
aprtecie for you, to touch you,
to love you, to make my poem,
to read you the most deep desire
privacy made flesh in lust forgivable
that that love is always forgiving,
it is to blame for such thoughts.

My poet sleeps,
but are you my best poem.
My poet sleeps and does not know if I perish,
but you, my love poem,
came to the oasis, the bible of the poet.

Marraige Words In Invitation

Without knowing why or how
the joy of the utopian dream
slowly coming true
the image of a mature tree,
of roses in bloom,
a blue sky with tears in his eyes,
in those eyes filled with happiness,
hope the new day
is no longer a thought,
snow crystal water
Soft low dulcemnte
to refresh this heart
desire and joy to have you
know you're mine, my love,
know you're here for me
to love me like I love you ...

Calories Chow Mein Chicken

often write things that come to mind at the most unexpected, then, while I am going with some surprise rediscovering old bar napkins in paper folded between two pages of a book, brochures backs who lost life, one of the many books that opened with that vague perseverance will then betrayed. Today I clean my pockets:

Oregano, thyme and dill (and do not know if basil). Cut fries to poor, with onions, Julienne. All this mixed with cheese.

"The truth is somewhere between documentary and fiction" (Frank Capra).

How to save when refueling diesel? Fill
-morning, early.
-Do not you have downloaded half of the deposit.
-Press very Light hose.

The clear brackets, the line stops.

unexpected discovery of a poet with whom, oh vagaries of light, at last connect: José Emilio Pacheco.

What matter of things is that they are, or how they are?

Among the many forms it takes machismo, more disturbing is that he turned against the male.


'm here with you as the cloud slowly
expires on the world
the harbinger of boom.

Order, order and reorder ... So it has been since I remember, so will (¿?).

ignorance of art, its implicit contempt is not in any way an innocent act, and its effect on the future man will be crucial, decisive ...

Poetry and exercise (and by extension their extensive literature) has helped me to create me the illusion of being an accomplice skein of thread in this bland all-encompassing, all-engulfing, it has helped me look in the mirror and, from time to time, contemplate with a volume of human dignity that never knew me the football, for instance, or his trail of useless conversation.