Thursday, December 01, 2011

Antihomenaje a Parra

Antihomenaje a Parra x el Premio Cervantes 01122011

Ciento cincuenta mil euros no le caen mal a nadie
Especialmente ahora en esta doble recesión
A ver que haría yo con esa platita
Me arreglaría los dientes
Me haría una liposucción en Argentina
(claro que en una buena clínica
No vaya a quedar pal gato)
Aquí esta tu hijo predilecto
Póngase compipa con otra ronda del bueno
No hay para que creerse el millonario
Si hombres simples como uno
Tiene hasta hoyos en las zapatos

Después partiría en un viaje cósmico
Compraría una Harley Davison, una chaqueta de cuero
Un casco nazi
Y un par de raybon a lo mas puro Stallone
Y me largaría a viajar por las carreteras de America.

A gastar la plata se ha dicho!
Que uno no puede llevarse nada cuando se muere
Ni siquiera importa el tipo de cajón con que lo entierren
Hasta en una caja de cartón se puede!!
Al final y al cabo los gusanos igual nos comen
Nos trituran nos destrozan
Pero antes de parar las chalupas
Hagamos una partusa
Tengo plata pa tirar pa arriba!!

Pero tengamos mucho cuidado
Que ahora aparecerán los desaparecidos
Amigos que no veía
Familiares que ni conocía
Algún vecino patudo
Que le contaran el cuento del tío
Aquí esta su hijo predilecto!!
Todos quieren alguna chaucha
Un autógrafo suyo ya no basta
Hay que tener acciones en el banco caramba
Si no uno es casi invisible
Al fin dirán los capitalistas
Le pasamos gato por liebre
Tal vez se vende por un puñado de euros
No saben con la chichita que se están curando!!

Thursday, September 01, 2011


The Lessons of Chile

Reflexion by Esteban A Espinoza

This 4th of September there will be a second burial for the world known socialist leader martirized on the officially forgotten September 11th 1973, Doctor Salvador Allende, President of Chile, leader of the Popular unity Government (1970-1973) who was deposed in a bloody coup orchestrated by the CIA and led by an army General, Augusto Pinochet who ruled Chile as a terrorist state until 1989.

President Salvador Allende

In 1989 the dictatorship was forced to retreat in a negotiated transition led by a coalition of centre right which governed Chile from 1990 until 2009 when for first time since Pinochet, a self declared follower of Milton Friedman, the candidate of the Right, Mr Sebastian Piñera, a multimillionaire, was elected to be President of Chile

Looking at his campaign and his rhetoric one cannot helped to compare him to John Key, another multimillionaire, whose smile and well constructed and well groomed persona is more aimed at these who are less interested in the substance than the image.

President Sebastian Piñera


38 years since that horrible morning of September 1973, when the US through a group of generals betrayed the nation breaking all the oaths they had made, to rescue the “conservative Chile from the brink of the communist abysm”. Soon after the firing squad completed their jobs and thousands, actually hundreds of thousands went into concentration camps, exile, torture chambers or were thrown into the sea, the generals imposed a well prepared neoliberal economic regime that destroyed all the remains of constitutional democracy. Forbidden unions, imprisoned leadership and frightened population were the perfect ingredients for the Chicago Boys experiment.

As Noemi Klein indicates in one of her books, the monetarists policies were employed after natural or man made disasters. Chile was the laboratory where the new market strategies where put in place. These policies resulted in rising unemployment, reduction of living standards, new labour laws that only benefited employers, maximizing profits and increasing production to levels never seen before. This is the time when the dictatorship sold the education system which was free and public up to then, to the banks and offered Chilean youth; bank credits in order to secure places in the education outcomes of the future indebting their families for decades to come.
The student’s debt begun and soon after,the worshippers of capital, the Thatcher’s, the Bush, the Keys of this world celebrated the “Chilean economic miracle”.

I still remember the well orchestrated campaign which was launched by the NZ Chamber of Commerce, the NZ Herald, the National and Labour Party, Fletchers Challenge and Carter Holt Harvey applauded the economic achievements of Pinochet, although some with a more or less concern of his Human Rights records.
Then it was the foreign investments and NZ was there first in the forestry, fisheries dairy and mining industries, taking as much advantage of the local conditions” to assist the living standards of the workers’ they said at the time.

The Crossroad

Then in 1989, it was the plebiscite organised by Pinochet to set himself for life, which failed after the US government invested in a rapid change of administration fearing a popular revolt that could turned things nasty for their interests there.
The Coalition for Democracy took the Presidency from Pinochet in 1990, and Pinochet designated himself alongside many of the Generals that assisted him in the theft of power, life long Senate members, in order to remain free from possible persecution. The Coalition for Democracy through its four administrations; Alwyn, Frei, Lagos and Bachelet continued to administer a antidemocratic system, created solely for the purpose of maintaining the privileges of the elite and to increase the wealth of that minority.

Copper prices are high, Chile’s main export, and have been high for a while, have produced a continuing growth in the economy, but one that is not shared by the population. Only a mere 3% of the GDP produced nationally is invested education in contrast to a 10% that goes to the Chilean Armed Forces, a legacy of Pinochet’s rule.
But while the rich kept in rubbing their hands, the neoliberal kept maintaining the myth that ‘one day” the richness will begin to flow down into the rest of the country.
But this myth is the eternal lie of the right.

The youth of Chile today, was born during the Pinochet regime, went to primary and secondary education under the Coalition for Democracy’s time and finally emerged at University in the Pinera’s government had said; enough is enough.
No more lies, no more waiting, and had placed the current administration in a serious crossroad. The students took over themselves the duty of freeing the country of this system that was inherited after almost 38 years of brutal neoliberal market policies.

A task that many that the so called Left declared impossible to achieved, the students have achieved it; uniting the country from left to right, across the classes, across the spectrum, from students to workers, behind demands such as free and public education and a plebiscite to change the Constitution of 1980.
The right has little choice. The current government is less popular that Pinochet itself, receiving less that 25% of the latest poll, and there is a growing support across the country for the students demands to be fulfilled.

The Student revolution is uniting all sectors of society

The crossroad is one could never have imagined a right wing smiling president could ever confront; either to accept the demands and surrender to the people’s demands or be defeated by a popular uprising that started in March of this year.

Some media in the west wants to portraits the events in Chile as the “Chilean winter “to compare them to the rebellions in the Middle East, but the revolution in Chile was up to last week bloodless and only a revolution of the ideas.

Since last week when Police opened fire at demonstrators- as they always do- killing two young boys, the initial attempts followed by the Piñera’s government to cover up the murders, failed. They forgot that the judicial power is now independent.

Police brutality

The right cannot wave the spectrum of a communist takeover once again, this time, technology, the social networks and the natural impetus of an intelligent new generation that learnt from the fear of the past and that represents the the inner aspirations of more than one generation is impossible to stop.

Camila Vallejos, the best know spokesperson for the Student Movement, and who has been compared to Subcomandant Marcos of the Zapatistas, had declared that ‘this horizontal movement will not end in 2011 “perhaps outlining the right and the left biggest challenge yet. This movement hasn’t been taken over by no established party and its leadership is well aware of their attempts to do so.

Caimila Vallejos

The failure of the Coalition for Democracy after 20 years in government to really reform the economic system discredited them. As the great Chilean poet Nicanor Parra stated it in one of his antipoems;
The Right and the left United Will never be defeated

May be true that the youth of today doesn’t know the fear of their parents or grandparent or never lived in the reign of terror of the Pinochet death quads, but certainly they have learn the lesson that creative protest and self understanding is resulting in the progress of the movement so far.

The demonstrations have created the most diverse forms of protests, such as the Marathon for Free education, the march of the Umbrellas, the March of the Windmills, the Kissing Rally, ect had seen the demonstrations grow from thousands now to hundred of thousands

Lessons for NZ? They are quite clear I believe, lets hope the right wingers and the capitalist don’t kid themselves thinking that the population is thoughtless, indifferent or ignorant , their silence is a sign that they are only waiting to explode.

Wednesday, August 10, 2011


The treason of your mind
Clouds the reason of your feelings
However when I look
I see clearly your body taking the sun rays

Don’t believe in every thing you read
Sometimes the hand of the devil is involved in all of this
When the ruler of this world makes a statement
Is not a statement it’s an order
There is no place for vanity or game
Poetry is the way to go

My name doesn’t matter because I use a nickname
My pen name is inscribe in the stars
So please do not look down on me
I may end up costing you a lot higher

For example
How much do you think my time cost?
My time is absolutely valuable
I think my weight is in gold
But I say this very quietly
I will surprise them later with the bill
I drank all the wine all the same
My name doesn’t matter
It’s my time, my time

Last year I was a rebel
But this year I am conservative
I realise been a rebel is a waste of time
Nobody takes you seriously
Everyone continues their road
To the abysm
In the meantime
I will pick up the daily paper
Who doesn’t say anything truthful
But I will read it anyway
To learn how to be lied upon
Last year I was a rebel
But today I am a conservative.

Epilogue to a sad song
Children of the world don’t go to Jesus
Behind his robe
A paedophile hides

You hear chorus of angelical voices
Sing while you can
Later in the Vatican rooms
They will make you scream
They will introduce you to their lord
While they will develop whitening in their eyes
And while outside rains quite hard
Nobody will heard your screaming


Gays of the world come out
Leave the solitude of the closet behind
The judging preachers have gone away
The twisted legislators have their own party
Gays of the world unite
Behind the rainbow flag
And go marching towards the burning towers

Schizophrenic of the world unite
Leave the empty wards of the hospitals behind
Doctors and psiquiatrist have gone
To observe their own little hells

Madman of the world, run amok
There is no medication to be frightened of
And run, run towards the broken dawn

Hypocrites of the world unite
Leave your sits in parliament behind
Come out of your masquerades once for all
Look at yourselves in the mirror
Liars of the world listen to your voices
Telling everyone else what to do
While you go and do exact the opposite
Escape, run from the final fire

Alcoholics of the world unite
Believe once in yourself
Your mother was never a bottle
Just in case you were too confused

The empire dominates your weakness
With pints, cocktails and 1 litre bottles
Run, run before you fall or
Before Mickey mouse traps you again

A good poet is a dead poet
Ok I said it; so there you are!!
All the metaphors worth nothing
In the fall of the market price

In the meantime I assure you
I haven’t got a hidden knife
Up my sleeve

Never leave for tomorrow
The murder that you can commit today

Don’t let me suffer an earthquake of ideas
I need a supply of images
For my lyrical radiator to function
Don’t forget to add some oily words
From time to time
Because another ways I malfunction

A serenade of mutes
A priesthood of magical desires
A cataclysm of smiling cadavers
A silent note

The N word
The f word
The s word
What does it says???
Cant u say it?
Can u say it?
No I cant
Then be silent please x I instant
While I finish to eat this apple

Please tell me the difference between a man in a Porsche
and a homeless man?
Between Lady Sarah of Westminster
And Maria the cleaner?
Between our wealthy Prime Minister
and Bruce the unemployed painter?
Once you know the answer
You will become subversive
And they may take you away.

Armed yourselves with weapons of electricity
To lighten the dark streets of your lives
Don’t look ahead look beside you
Treason walks all around you


Caminando por el jardín de las camelias
Las magnolias también sueltan sus colores
Cada flor tiene atrás una cadena ardiente
Que nos ata a sus sueños vegetales.

Que hay detrás de esta tierra húmeda
Que nos guía tranquilos por el camino?
Flores rojas, violetas y blancas florecidas
Nadie puede negar lo que digo

Cada flor es un labio con su beso
Todas son ojos silvestres que nos miran
Ellas tiritan cuando escuchan nuestros pasos
Será así el camino de la abeja?
Será este el horizonte meridiano de su vuelo?
Los pájaros se esconden entre sus ramas
No quieren que veamos su baile alado.

Jardín de todos los tamaños que nos tocan
Lilas que crecen entre los arbustos
Este es el tiempo final de la madera
Y nos entregan el fruto y sus semillas

Y cuando las hojas y las flores se hayan muerto
Y la tierra húmeda haya recuperado su espacio
La tierra hablara con su lengua verde
La lengua de cada invierno húmedo
Atrás el viento cruza entre las ramas
Y mece los inmensos árboles de lado a lado
Cada uno es un fantasma de un tiempo equilibrado
Es cada miembro de este reino necesario

Hay que saludar de un suspiro cada planta
Amarla, cuidarlas hasta sus raíces
Ellas serán el vestido en nuestra muerte
Serán las semillas de nuestras cenizas.


The torturer is sometimes good at innuendos
C Bukowsky

The weather is fine but there are wrinkles in the air
I looked at these photographs and my memory averts them
There are so many painful screams in the back of my head
That stops me from seeking the picture clear

The weather changes and suddenly it’s murkily
The elements are four and no one can decipher them
Words that comes out in a torrent of fire
Words that cannot connect unless your self is in them

There was always a smile at the end of the picture?
Why I cannot see anything but only the backgrounds?
When was this taken, what were you doing?

Thousand of squares complete my vocabulary
Empty spaces are filled with the taste of metal
Your heart will be stronger you may even take rejections
You will never suffer of a weak heart condition

You may be able to read between the lines
You will see what is hidden from others
Sometimes at least sometimes you may need
Only a hand to hold you together

Miles and miles apart
Stars gazing in the south sea
Lights that comes and goes by
Only the secret eye will see them pass.

Tuesday, August 09, 2011

El Infiltrado

Parezco un perdido pero estoy infiltrado
Me infiltre dentro de ti hace mucho tiempo
Estaba calladito para que no me notaras
No hice ningún ruido para que no te dieras cuenta
Pero estaba dentro de ti

Parezco cualquier persona cuando ando por ahí
Incluso me paro mirando hacia otro lado
Pero en realidad escucho tus pensamientos
Oigo hasta lo que sospechas
Porque estoy dentro de ti

Me llaman el infiltrado
Me hago el indiferente
Me hago hasta el simpático

Nadie ya no me reconoce
Para algunos soy un padre de familia
Para otros la señora que va de compras
A otros le parezco un niño de la mano de su madre
Pero estoy dentro de ti

Soy el infiltrado en tu corazón
Escucho cada golpe cada letra de tus palabras
Me escondo me hago pasar pretendo
Pero siempre sabrás
Que vivo en tu corazón.

Tuesday, July 19, 2011


Que este esqueleto esta hecho de a pedazos
A tiras y amarras con cartílagos y nervios?
He buscado una campana borracha
Para que me vomite los pantalones con sus teñidos
He mirado putas hacer el fellatio en los parques
Orar como se ora a Maria la olvidada
He descrito golpes bajos a la altura de la genitalia
Maduros, resfriegos de sangre y agua

Alguien grita en medio de la calle
Solo veo figuras distorsionadas con el ron y la cola
Inmensas cabezas que me miran vidriosos
Me he orinado los pantalones
Tratando de apuntar la fosa negra

Las rodillas están sucias de pasto verde
No recuerdo nada ni de cómo me llamaba
Ni el nombre de una mujer
Ni mi numero de pasaporte
Ni del sexo ni del demonio que las ha parido a todas

Pero he regresado en secreto
No he dicho nada esta vez que me gane algún enemigo mas
Alguna traición nueva, algún mal comentario
Han llenado el mundo de chismes baratos porque
Siempre no les gusto que olfateara su mierda
La que iban restregándole a los transeúntes de este mundo

Hay que ser uno mismo
Aun con todas las mentiras que cruzaran mis labios
Aun con todas las traiciones hediondas a semen y orgasmo
Aun con cuantos labios que me dieron su reojo
Nadie sabe para quien trabaja

En el fondo los que quieren estar en la luz
Debieran ponerse cerca de la ampolleta
Nadie tiene pasta de santo
Y si se creen pecadores arrepentidos
Hay que hacerles una nueva prueba


Yo no soy el asesino
Y no soy el cortapiés
Yo no soy el embustero
El que ultraja medialunas

El que sale en la noche
a clavarles cuchillos a los amantes
que desnudos en el jardín
entrelazan sus cuerpos jadeantes.

No soy el encomendado por la muerte
Ni menos el príncipe indio
que murió de sed al borde del camino

Tampoco soy la Ñusta ni la monja endemoniada
Tampoco soy el obispo rojo ni el papa negro
Yo no soy ni dios ni el muerto
Tampoco su seguidor desenfrenado

No pertenezco a las tareas olvidadas
Y a los versos infundidos de odio
Las babas callejeras que reposan en el cemento

Tampoco soy la mierda,
el excremento seco de los perros
Ni menos la mano oculta
que aplaude los secuaces ni sus monumentos.

Sunday, July 17, 2011



Vivan las pulgas ,liendres y cucarachas
vivan los piojos y las garrapatas
perros sarnosos, guarenes nativos
cuanto te amo Chile, cual sativo

Viva el tiñe y la parafina
Las babosas y los piriguines
Que viva el hanta y el chupacabras
Que vivan, pero q vivan lejos caramba!!

Viva las carachas q tienen mis manos
Que viva el trapo del mecánico
Viva el millón de perros vagos
que viva caramba, pero que no cagen.

I love Chile, su fauna y tu orto-grafía
me inspiraste así el otro día
cuando me picaba toda la cintura
y me dejaron las ronchas caradura.

I love Chile dicen los otros
Nosotros también tenemos macdonalds
Versión chilena se llama honrosa
Sanguche de potito con mayonesa

Cual es el problema dice un experto
Chancho limpio nunca es apuesto
Longanizas de gato, chunchules de perro
Al menos así se notan menos.

Tuesday, June 07, 2011



I now find myself in the arch of hope
and I find my mother waiting for me
A search for ancient books and windows
To see if I can still admire the mountains.

I return to find my grandmother
After ten years apart
To unearth the river that precipitates awaits me
A mechanical forced torrents
A search for scattered tiny bubbles of time.

I now find myself
With friends who stayed
Those who survived the terror and secrecy.

I come behind the podium speeches, empty; white
I take the back these applauses
A thousand pardons to the meridian that shelters me
But this trip will not forgives.

I confused dates and forgotten the horizon
Sometimes, I repeat, this happens only sometimes
I have gone back up to the awkwardness
And I looked like a bed hungry roots.

I go to meet the waif
-You guys know what I mean -
between wires and rusty trigger
I see and I fear myself.

I do not know if I am here from there or beyond
because if you ask me where I am
I do not know what I should answer.

This is the end of this search backward
Good is waiting for me and I hope so
To give me strength to face the image
of this body of 10 years of never ending exile.


The fish die because it opens its mouth
How often it will tell you to stay silent
Let me break you even if the waves breaks
Rapidly approaching the coast.

Let me break them smashing into the sand
Anxiety as I walk along the avenues is lost
Mourners and dark streets of my city.

The home of my people look like old paintings
Nominations lost and forgotten people
Initials of love unknown
Haired old ladies look at me puzzled

Feelings hinted that under the sheets
That cover the ferocity of time subtly
What happens distressingly beside us
And we unleashed the fear of lost days.

Which is tied to former whereabouts
As a poem out of memory
At the same time give me the air I breathe
When you miss me in silence

If I say things like appliances
It is only the name without forget
They were my study my reminder
Nothing more than single words
Woven just for my patience.

Mother son woman comrade
Nobody will come out of the dark corners of the past
To tour the fear and fatigue
Time is not a line or a circle for a moment
There is only for the fear.


Stop the observations of the atmosphere
We must put our hands to extinguish the fire
The terrestrial heat will not let a bird alive
At the end the world will look like a desert

Do not smoke that causes cancer
Do not eat beef that causes cancer
Do not talk x phone that causes cancer
Avoid cofee that causes cancer

Don’t come with these things

Do not take the sun that cause cancer
Do not breathe the air that cause cancer
Do not bath there that cause cancer
Don’t fornicate that causes cancer

(It seems that the above was written by JP 2)
They said that sex also causes cancer
Although he did die of cancer

In that Christ did not save him either!


Cuando nos juntamos la nostalgia nos agobia
sale el pelao a relucir su vaso lleno de vino
y comienza su discurso entonando un brindis dijo un cura’o
Y nos acordamos de tantos vinos recorridos en las noches aquellas
Desde aquella cárcel remota en ese país distante cuando se nos agota la memoria
Siempre cantamos en la nota la menor
Es como si los lamentos nos salieron al unísono
Y las guitarras nos remontaran a las reuniones de amigos
Acercándonos al brasero con un navega’o solemne
La memoria el pasado los recuerdos
Algunos destellos más o menos no me importan
Algunos recuerdos son casi un engaño
La reflexión de los espejos.

Necesitamos de vernos en las ceremonias de la tribu
Encontrarnos aquellos que alguna vez soñamos pero que no se rindieron
Aunque sea débilmente levantando el puño en las marchas contra la guerra
Contra el imperio o a favor de algún refugiado de un país que apenas se su nombre

Libertad a los presos perseguidos por luchar por la justicia
Libertad gritan todos en nota la m como si nuestras vidas estuvieran unidas misteriosamente e invisiblemente por una nota musical que nadie entiende
Habrá sido la violeta la primera que nos dio aquel arpegio?

Entre tanto llorisqueo de nuestra lucha fragmentada
Nuestros hijos se han cansado de las historias de otro mundo
No entendieron que una vez existieron unos viejos rebeldes y nostálgicos
Pegados a un tango en un país terremoteado hasta el mar
Si no han visto alguna vez el alerce doblarse con el viento del bio bio
y oler la espiga del trigo cosechado en Melipilla?
Nunca sabrán de que estamos hablando

Hay N-E-C-E-S-I_D-A-D de volver al principio
de sacar nuestros abrigos madurados en el ropero
de limpiar las telarañas del ajetreo y dedicarles un minuto
la ceremonia la llevamos todos adentro
nos estamos encontrando camino al cementerio
nuestro emblema hoy en día la salud y la sobrevivencia
orinamos en nuestras propias narices apuntando el dedo al enemigo burgués
detestando argumentos dialécticos
nos vamos reduciendo de tamaño
y esperamos la hora de nuestra muerte, amen.


Todas íbamos a ser Fidel lo juro x la santísima virgen
Hasta los lampiños se estaban dejando barba
Una vez cruzamos los campos y las montañas
Con nuestras botas de combate con barro hasta la rodilla

Íbamos a ser guerrilleros junto al Che en Bolivia
Pero terminamos vendiendo una polera con su fotografía
La hicimos del 1
Fuimos en verdad la panacea del pequeño capitalista

Todas Íbamos a ser la Tania, El Coco Peredo y hasta Miguel Enríquez
Pero nos quedamos en la oficina escribiendo planes
De cómo subvertir el modelo
De cómo desmoronar el sistema de pies de barro
Pero terminamos afirmándolo con la economía de mercado
Todos tienen un precio en la banca de este mundo

Todos íbamos a ser comunistas
Pero tuvimos tanta suerte que terminamos vendiendo los ladrillos del muro
En eBay como huesos de santo
No faltaban los idiotas que pagaban lo que sea
Que mala cara
Que hipocresía
Que caraduras tan faltos a la moral revolucionaria compañeros ¡!.
Quisimos marchar al frente de las masas proletarias
Pero terminamos llevando el estandarte de la fe
Del mcdonalds o de la ultima zapatilla de Adidas

El paredón?
Ahí colgaremos nuestra última mercadería
Cambiaremos coctel molotov x TV plasma
AK 47 x el ultimo modelo de Lamberdini
Las banderas rojas combinan con un pañuelo Gucci

Para no confundir al proletariado
Formaremos una cooperativa neoliberal
Los libros de Marx podrán ser reciclables
Los podremos convertir
En tarjetas de navidad, para llevar 100 x $1,000
En estas pascuas especiales.


Que se aclare mi mirada
Que mi devenir venga sin tapujos
Que mi escapada sea sin intermediarios
Que las cosas se hablen por su nombre

Que cada puerta no tenga ningún cerrojo
Y ni siquiera la dirección correcta
No importan los sacrificios a esta altura
Ni más ni menos los riesgos que conlleva

Que la palabra se convierta en lanzallamas
A la tropa de cobardes que nos siguen
Los que miran sin permisos inconcientes
Y los que oyen declaraciones sempiternas

Basta ya de perder hasta la paciencia
Y solo quedarnos con la bilis en los labios
El amargo corazón que nos palpita
En el fondo es solo músculo y sangre

Hay que buscarle las cinco patas al gato
Encontrarles todo lo malo
Ver todo negro pues todo es negro
Solo son mentiras solo mentiras

Lo que dicen en el diario son mentiras
Lo que dicen en la tele son mentiras
Lo que prometen en sus discursos son mentiras
Mentiras sus paradas y sus mansiones

Se acumula una cierta rebeldía
Día a día se juntan más los enojados
Se unen más las largas subversivas
Cada uno a su puesto de combate caramba!

Homage to ALLENDE

Homage to Allende

Define the word freedom the word honesty the word integrity
oh man oh man how times have changed
we want to return to the day before to hear your voice
calling the people to work harder to organise themselves and to be free
but the day before cannot return
we tried but we cannot find anyone like you again
your smile the way you spoke to us the things you did
the charm of the movement of your hands.

the day before when the blood was just not called upon
the murderers were not our of their cages
the dogs were just not barking
the day before when they smiled at you
and they promised to obey you
their treacherous gestures were invisible
but they whispered
they sent each other secret messages
they loaded their guns
they oiled their cannons
they practice how to inflict pain
who to kidnapped
where to hide the dead
how to launder our land

you spoke to us through the radio through the tv
told us to sleep at peace next to our children
to be tender to care for them
because you said they were the future of mankind

but the others didn’t rest
Washington didn’t rest
the rich didn’t rest
they foster their treason in the name of their master
who lived in the white house

please define
the word justice the word peace the word loyalty
and we will define the man you were
the stature of your sacrifice
your love to the workers and the humble ones
that is why we sing to you.

adios del suicida

Y seran las verduras
las bocanadas de la tierra?
las que alimentan la horda humana
que como langosta azotan la tierra

salvame de ellos, angel demoniaco
que solamente de ti confio en la penumbra
y a pesar de todos los cabizbajos
...este sera el ultimo alarido
el fiero desenlace de este dia.