blood moon & shy sun……………… y a cuánto el kilo?


From the sublime to the ridiculous there is but a step      ( org. anonymous)


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Pó de Leftovers ( rikitikitawi lucha con la víbora en la tarde de calor)



Poema a Dolores ( Es – Pt • March 2018)

De nuevo el dolor
en la espalda baja
con sus dientes duros
y afilada
la intención
de morder los huesos,
estoy vivo estoy vivo
me dice en su nana
y todos los otros —
aunque yo al dolor
lo vea como una compañera,
por lo que cambiamos
dolor por malestar y re-enunciamos
y así: todos los otros malestares
inutilmente y secundarios
se desgarran
por un poco de la atención,
la atención con que mi dolor
me regala.


Doem-me as gengivas
e a saliva e o brilho dos dentes,
doi-me olhar mas quando fecho os olhos
o que mais me doi é respirar, tanto que nem respondo,
transpiro só-de-dor e isso eriça-me os pelos todos
e tal quantidade de pelo eriçado
acaba por fazer doer também os poros;
mas não tudo assim… ao molhe… indefinido, não,
cada coisa me doi como se fosse uma criança a nascer,
devagarinho, sem pressa, sem pressa mesmo alguma
de nascer pelo motivo que for e que a gente respeita;
doi-me nas pernas e nos brazos e no rabo e nas unhas e
por cima disso tudo doi-me na pele;
doi-me aqui
e também acolá me doi
mas onde a dor se torna insuportável
é na memoria, na memoria de ter estado já morto
e p’ra lá me dirigir novamente por entre
o nevoeiro, o nevoeiro dum sonho mal aviado
que é viver
que é estar vivo
e a pesar de tudo crescer pela dor,
entre as dores
entrando nas dores
sair também,
indo sim
para alem da dor
paralelo a dor
para a dor





( Es •  early 2018 )


Anda un tipo desesperado
de acá para allá
… desesperando
a todo gas
y de allá para acá
en su moto relinchona

Y no importa
realmente adónde va
porque lo desesperante
se atraviesa en todos lados;
ahí van, él y la moto
gritando su rabia,
secándola al viento

Y aunque yo no tengo moto
como te entiendo
hermano del destrozo


////// • \\\\\\


La luna ocupa
la sala entera
y mis retinas
— bañadas en luz
se deshacen un poco
un poco se rien
un poco se entierran.

¿Qué dia es hoy?
le pregunta una lágrima
a la mar.

Inexorables avanzamos
de época en época
de momento a momento
de manera a manera

¿De qué sirve andar lloriqueando?!!
de nada hermano,
de nada



( En •  July 2018)


Amidst pines and dunes
ready for the kids
a sense of belonging
and due bad luck

So much sky here …
~ (there’s) the clouds’ white
running over the blue
then the green of the trees
and bushes meeting the sand’s
pale cinnamon
and sugar-cane dark brown
sprinkled with tarnished yellow
of the ground carpet.

Birds, plane,

mechanical saw, longing-quale-cars,
some wind.
This country needs more land
we’re too close together
yet not close enough.

Here they come
zas zas zas
they’re done
they’re gone
Everything happens so fast …
all the preparation,
the expectation
and here we are, done already.

A smile
a gust of joy
tiny mice’s laughter
a gust of pain
blink blink
and that’s that.

~ ? But there’s no time

for tears
here’s another group,
life in waves = children
so hungry so
open to the new
raiding its discovering with joy.

I remember me this age,
this period of childhood,
summer camp
endless activities
super cool adults
monitoring, making it

Today feels like a dream,
a dream I want to believe
a dream that fuels
my will to be better…
to be
a monitor?
We need to be here,
here now
now by now
children are sacred
a child’s a dream
in a child’s hope sea

I want to be better




( Pt • early draft… of wind; autumn 2018)


seres adiados

forrados do avesso

nas terras do nosso país

pequeno e salvagem

há de tudo

o que já não existe

quase quanto baste

ligado por trilhas

suspiros em pedra

e uma carícia em vão




a_deep_bread_ruins ( En • late 2018)

Mist over the bay
sun is all warm kisses
ticking the ocean
filling the gaze
the skin, the heart
the soul I was yesterday


A deep breath,

to be able
to go blind

like this




open smile

yes yes
it is just a moment
while everything’s being shattered

oh nasm

trying to interlock destroyed mutex

get out of my way

get out of my text based

corrupted kernel


I’m all
\\\\\\\ ;,. ruins
anyway – announcement
straight from the thought
banners made of neurons
sparkles and bargain
gongs ¬
in the fading
I am
all \\\\\\\ gOne
letter by little
the conscienceness

now dust

in this god forgotten sake

for this goat forsaken sake

and god gotten place






in the same phrase

there is a dagger and a kiss

a wound and its healing





Undead_line ( En • along 2018 / 2019)

Father can I use the word?


Father… silence
is not what these words
stand up against
but there’s a grave
deep at the core
of the covetous little man’s
for them to be buried.

I’m the covetous little man
these are the words
wake up wake up!


I see the fisherman cross the sun
rowing his little boat
while a busy sky of seaguls
goes around
and around
and around
But today’s gently,
buttery timing
with an extra millisec per actuation
hand-saw permuting gets repeated
and the waves that foam everything
feel warmer in their intent
you can feel it, right?
relax max
we’re all about the heart
about this here
that someone left
/ anchored /
in the heart of the moment
a suribachi where the breathing
it’s being grinded to a spasm
we can sit and con temple at it
we can go with it, into it
into us really…
the support for vibrat background
not equals 90 and debug mode
of system jelly is config
global diagrams and queries
containing embodying contexts
plus undefined above import
fixing glitch selecta


Âden-dunne (*) < just now

Mr. Colour Trimming
then said:
as I approach the silence
the impossible wax
into smiling corners
and PONR lonely pimps:
codswallop good ma boy
’cause you see this here
… ain’t nuthin’
but-a-chunk of silly comedy
and then something else
something more
the truth is on the street
without love there’s no poetry
and no ammo-pain
wash that spit
(read it slow
your heartless bastard)
ohhhhhhhh gud ‘ol
disconfort of inadequacy
to a spiritual successor

then gud gud

I call it

and by all means
of the little flower in the desert
of the fluffy bumblebee
there’s no shame
there’s no fare
no throwing pebbles
no solution
no trail
no memory

no edit

no sense
no virtuality
or end

there is just


L   O   V   E


here now
and now is here
and here
is now

by now








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The owl calling


                                      I shut the music  
                                                                            \ down  
                                              \ to hear the owl  
                                                 \\ here {} the owl  
                                                    \\ the kitchen’s window    
                                      I opened  
                                                                                        \ up
                                                                / while I cooked  
                                                    // an alien gust of sadness  
                                      gets hold of me  
                                                          / then   
                                      it was real  
                                                    // as if I had been asleep  
                                      it is painful  
                                      but I do not cry  
                                                    \ over   
                                                       \ it.  
                                              // The days are getting taller  ////  
                                      •  yet the night’s still the queen  
                                      it is good to be alive  
                                              \ a little longer  
                                      it is good to be alive   
                                                 \ and not asleep



 // Technical notes //
   Developed with PhotoFlow and G'mic within The Gimp 10.6
   Compression by cjpeg (libjpeg) and metadata handled by exiftool
   Resized with Photoflow batch. ALL FLOSS. Jan - 2019


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Big Blue



Oh Big Blue  

Motherfucking BIG  

Motherfuckingly BLUE  

I salute you  

I vowel to ya  

I jump into your arms  

with no fear  

without a doubt  

wearing just a smile  

I surrender freely   






never harm from you,    

just the song    

came and never left,    

a grandpa-child

a grown man drowned

equaly unmeasured

you nurture all  

you keep’em all

the breathing  

and the quiet

the flesh

and the secret

and the ashes  

. . .   

you keep them singing



to give myself all undue

in a plethoric profligate of unbounded overkill

outrageous wasteful wanton endless dizzying  

of continuous jillionomas of LOVE

and poopoozas 


let all go     

a l l   

                                                                                                                    g o  


why is there so much poetry?    

it hurts    

it’s so loud    

a bath in the Big Blue  

cry cry  

these are    

      all tears    

 ‘ , ‘ ,’ ,’  anyway  

from extenuated bumblebees

from liquid dreams  

fused passions  

over anger



O h   B i g    B l u e    

| / _| \/| -[ | \ \ ||  ||| | • ]| /| \

brother before there was blood

how we all come to you

running when is hot

it is ridiculous

and funny




sad too

I couldn’t say

maybe it has to do

with how we humans

think all that is there is for

us to take advantage, to use it

to abuse it, to change it, to end the

shine of its soul… arghh what am I saying

again I’m lost, see how badly I need  your arms


’cause when you hold me  

I don’t feel like rotening   

when we’re together

I’m not a coward no more ; 

I need you   

I    n e e d    you  

oh inmense  


oh my  


big BLUE



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time flies


   // Technical notes //
   Developed with Filmulator
   Resized with PhotoFlow's batch
   Compressed for the web with cjpeg (libjpeg) and metadata handled
   by exiftool, both available as homebrew formulas.
   All FLOSS. Jan - 2019


\\ BTS \\
A homemade automator little helper — literally an applescript dialog and a couple shell scripts, triggered by command+option+control + r and (off course, who do you think I am?!!) with its notifications and all the fancy mental tiring clutter — or can you picture me typing all those ñufis and kufis characters, sheeee, lazyness mother of inventions 😛 Photoflow uses VIPS’ image library; here lanczos 3 in

photoflow –batch –export-opt=jpeg_quality=100, width=”1200″,height=”1200″,sharpen_enabled=1,sharpen_radius=0.5, profile_type=srgb,trc_type=linear

though – due to my nagging, Andrea (photoflow’s developer) has added other algos to the batch options. I tend to use photoflow to get sharper images (or when no sharpening has been applied) and Imagemagick’s for the rest as it strikes a well balanced result, this is the default, I may have to change that; both are ⚡️ fast.
Thanks Andrea and CarVac for 2 super tools 👍

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  photo by afre, my edit


# Alex & Max ( a pachas)



Guapetón que te duchas con demonios,

sin morder la carne de un espiritu libre

el corazón se nos congela –

al corazón acercate (arg)

fugaz , resuelto , difícil

refraseo al corazón

un acercamiento fugaz le resulta difícil

— … ay yo no me quiero poner adusto y engorroso pero si sí nos salimos del comodorro y lo vamos rompiendo o lo que sea que hagamos, pero pues que “difícil” como que es fea compañía, pal corazón digo y pos bueno pa cualquier cosa, porque aunque la subvertamos a la palabrita jefa y acabe oliendo a champú de flores que nunca nadie vió va a tener igual forma de espinita reprimida, de futuro dolor y claro, sus hijitos e hijitas van a acabar siendo meros difíciles también y pos ya que piedras donde se tropiece uno y gente con sordera aguda y malfollados y malfolladas de eso nunca falta y tampoco se les estraña, así que aprovechando esta brecha abierta al diálogo incondicional este humilde servidor del lector paciente propone que se medite sobre una posible substituta o incluso madre de alquiler, gracias —


conecto y

aunque los pájaros sigan en la cabeza

los momentos se van llevando las cenizas

y las cenizas van exfoliando la piel

y la piel …

¿de quién es ésta piel prestada?



Es un milagro sangrante estar en el mismo momento-hermanitos

es un milagro sangrante estar en el mismo momento

es un milagro sangrante estar

es un sangrante estar

este milagro

es estar



quel propio encuentro

nos encuentre y se nos adentre pa dentro

haciéndose grandotote y circumbalante,

haciéndonos crecer y ver como crecemos

y así

al mismo tiempo

primero que aluego despues:


periplo autobusero en marruecos,

hedor de fermentación explosiva

… porosa y creativa?

no no, prosa creativa …

pues ni modo

tras que deambular

por los establos de la muerte

son entrañas lo que escribo



Estos 40


ya encontrados

descartados ya por falta de aire o agua

o heno que llevarse a la boca

esa ser sedienta

dicen que sólo

una oliva sola

sabe el secreto


sabe a silencio


y el vecino del silencio que se llama Susurro López

y la mamá de ese silencio que se llama Pachamama;

el resto son ranas que en secreto

se lamen los dedos

pensando en los escarabajos-volantes

que buscan la metáforas de quien eres y quién eres



entre las cenizas



este otro silencio



que va sonriendo






estoy en casa de la mamma

… quieres una platica hoy mismo?

novecientos dieciseis millones quinientos veinte mil veinti nueve


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micro-colecta do solisiticio ( insert coin )


E > D, C >B

Coentros e salsa, couve lomba, acelga fonix, 2 cherry da tomateira que se nega a morrer e aguanta furacões como um kraken, hortelã chococolata, hortelã alcanforata, hortelã curriqueira (venha ela, é disto que a gente quer), lucialima ou limonete de areia, erva Saint-Exupéry (príncipe), laugro aurelio, brocoli solteiro, nabo (folhas só, calma aí), basílico pia-fininho, balderoegas já no fim oiga!, cove tuga bebé, covetuga semi-mastigada (indício de que está nua e sã), espinafríos engurrumoiditos pela humiLdade marina, amigas cenoritas compactas, com terra e betacaroteno para parar comboio e ainda lá escondidos um bocado de cebolinho, rúcula, agriões e tomilho limão. Eu calculista: chá, chá, chá… fódasse nunca bebi tanto chá na minha vida, 1 sopa, esparguete carboara, refogado de cove bombarda e alho (para acompanhar algum desejo ímpio), tortilha (espinacas e acelgas) e toque diferente nalguma sobremesa; mas não é preciso comer tudo duma vez. Em fim, com meia dúzia de nozes o velho ri-se feliz como uma criança e o monólogo acaba aqui.

Bensabá Boas Festas


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New background courtesy of Patrick Cunningham

Note: for now and till better idea springs ( ay salpica tu!) new posts would appear under this “fixed” one =) … and two hard-boiled eggs 🥚

     by Patrick Cunningham


Over at in the play_raw series I met this beauty 👆. Monkey sees, monkey wants, monkey do, monkey donk, monkey donkey. And I did, did develop the image and then nag Patrick to be able to use it. So now – oh many millions – the blog will load a little slower still… ’cause there will be a work of art in the background!!! and that’s courtesy of user Waveluke aka Patrick Cunningham ( link to his flickr gallery) it’ll be our background till our eyes overflow with joyful tears and then they explode of pure uncontainable happiness, it has happened, in India, twice to the same man, his a saint now… so beware!… and look

The photo was taken on sacred land and never a better excuse to encourage you to check these links, all non-profit organizations working on Native American issues. If you must you can even donate (to them), but ONLY if you mustl

Thank you Pat & pixls


Partnership With Native Americans

Adopt a Native Elder Program

The American Indian College Fund

The Native American Heritage Association

The Native American Rights Fund



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_IMG7669_dt   &  The storm has gone(?)


// Technical notes //
Integral edit in darktable 2.6.0rc1.
No crop, no zone editing, or brushing.
Edit was done around the brand new filmic module
and sprinkled with a bit of everything shinny.
Exported both a 32b tif and a jpeg
All FLOSS. Dez - 2018


The storm has gone
but the test was always
yet to come –
pregnant with light
water’s just the effort
water just the effort
and now the ground
in another round
silently makes
its muffled beds
amidst the ocean’s waves
giggling on silly shapes
and crest-ideas…

Oh countdown of impossible rhythms
holy-grail promise
of solving vergence-accommodation
we, the dead, crave to become
the metal dick burning inside
the homeless purpose
a resolution virus
the adjourned pain
in a disciplined, accurate, firm flux
of torpid yet unshakably cool spam
yes, yes! realization
in full glory pues
nodes upon nodes
or just verbs
the longer it makes sense
it doesn’t
make sense

Night drops
its dark ladder
and for each step
the infinity sells
the dreams of
in flattened shapes
and insouciance
for the violently quiet

In the desert
of human condition
there’s a little flower
with a childish heart
that simplifies itself
to a surface
to a skin
and all the living then
and all the living

are able to LOVE
without evaluation
from heart to heart
relapse in the joy
of idiotproofing,
of being lost in the config
yank or peco
profoundly humiliating
with no trace of truth
but an empty grave
of clever moves
pseudo lightfield chips
people in the know
and their solid sharpness.

And – then
this took a turn
urge aside and rendered
oh factor of we
in the mode verbose
all we’ll need to change –
will be everything
thus no debug
nor yank
or peco

poop out of my skeleton


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// Technical notes //
32b floating point Wf. A 3 bracketed HDR fused in HDRmerge,
then developed both in Photoflow and Rawtherapee dev.
Merged at 50% opacity, resized with ImageMagic and 
compressed with mozpeg. All FLOSS. Nov - 2018


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