Profilo di OldJoe

Señores guardias civiles:
aquí pasó lo de siempre.
Han muerto cuatro romanos
y cinco cartagineses.

La tarde loca de higueras
y de rumores calientes
cae desmayada en los muslos
heridos de los jinetes.
Y ángeles negros volaban
por el aire del poniente.
Ángeles de largas trenzas
y corazones de aceite.

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SOME LINK 2 YOUTUBE: 

If you're going to San Francisco be sure to wear some flowers in your hair . . .

http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=7I0vkKy504U

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She just said "Joe, I gotta go, we had it once, we ain't got it anymore..."

http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=mXFBTzpxglk

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Waiting for the Man

I'm waiting for my man
Twenty-six dollars in my hand
Up to Lexington, 125
Feel sick and dirty, more dead than alive
I'm waiting for my man
Hey, white boy, what you doin' uptown?
Hey, white boy, you chasin' our women around?
Oh pardon me sir, it's the furthest from my mind
I'm just lookin' for a dear, dear friend of mine
I'm waiting for my man
Here he comes, he's all dressed in black
PR shoes and a big straw hat
He's never early, he's always late
First thing you learn is you always gotta wait I'm waiting for my man
Up to a Brownstone, up three flights of stairs
Everybody's pinned you, but nobody cares
He's got the works, gives you sweet taste
Ah then you gotta split because you got no time to waste
I'm waiting for my man
Baby don't you holler, darlin' don't you bawl and shout
I'm feeling good, you know I'm gonna work it on out
I'm feeling good, I'm feeling oh so fine
Until tomorrow, but that's just some other time
I'm waiting for my man 

http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=W4VEXl4vsq4

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SOME POEM:   

Soneto de la dulce queja

Tengo miedo a perder la maravilla
de tus ojos de estatua, y el acento
que de noche me pone en la mejilla
la solitaria rosa de tu aliento.
Tengo pena de ser en esta orilla
tronco sin ramas; y lo que más siento
es no tener la flor, pulpa o arcilla,
para el gusano de mi sufrimiento.
Si tú eres el tesoro oculto mío,
si eres mi cruz y mi dolor mojado,
si soy el perro de tu señorío,
no me dejes perder lo que he ganado
y decora las aguas de tu río
con hojas de mi otoño enajenado.
 

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Volupté

Clitoridette, m'amourette,

Ôte ta jolie robe d'or,

Tes roses bas, chemise nette,

Et decouvre pour moi le con,

Le con que j'aime, aux cheveux noirs,

Le cul ou tu m'admets ce soir,

Les seins je baise, que j'adore,

Tous les secrets de ton boudoir.

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SOME QUOTE:  

“But man is not made for defeat," he said. "A man can be destroyed but not defeated.”

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“He always thought of the sea as 'la mar' which is what people call her in Spanish when they love her. Sometimes those who love her say bad things of her but they are always said as though she were a woman. Some of the younger fishermen, those who used buoys as floats for their lines and had motorboats, bought when the shark livers had brought much money, spoke of her as 'el mar' which is masculine. They spoke of her as a contestant or a place or even an enemy. But the old man always thought of her as feminine and as something that gave or withheld great favours, and if she did wild or wicked things it was because she could not help them. The moon affects her as it does a woman, he thought.”

― Ernest Hemingway, The Old Man and the Sea

 “Luck is a thing that comes in many forms and who can recognize her?”

― Ernest Hemingway, The Old Man and the Sea

“No one should be alone in their old age, he thought.”
― Ernest Hemingway, The Old Man and the Sea

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“Fish," he said, "I love you and respect you very much. But I will kill you dead before this day ends.”
― Ernest Hemingway, The Old Man and the Sea

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“And bed, he thought. Bed is my friend. Just bed, he thought. Bed will be a great thing. It is easy when you are beaten, he thought. I never knew how easy it was. And what beat you, the thought.”
― Ernest Hemingway, The Old Man and the Sea

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“Do not think about sin, he thought. There are enough problems now without sin. Also I have no understanding of it.”
― Ernest Hemingway, The Old Man and the Sea

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"Giustizia, ecco ciò che voleva. Poi prese coscienza delle sue riflessioni, e si mise a ridere. Lui non voleva giustizia; non sapeva nemmeno cosa fosse la giustizia. Voleva ciò che voleva, come chiunque altro, né più né meno, e il resto erano stronzate, nient'altro che chiacchiere."

[Edward Bunker - Cane mangia cane (Dog Eat Dog, 1996)]

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AT NOW: 

I hear the train a comin'
It's rolling round the bend
And I hope is full of women 'cause I'm tired of fuckin' men . . .

Sfoghi