Undertow
Better think awhile,
or I may never think again.
If this were the last day of your life my friend
Tell me, what do you think you would do then?
Gracias a Genesis
Vida en Fuerteventura....and elsewhere
Better think awhile,
or I may never think again.
If this were the last day of your life my friend
Tell me, what do you think you would do then?
Gracias a Genesis
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Sunday, November 08, 2009
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The bar I had flopped into off one of the main drags in Puerto…was typically …Spanish lively…with its own little cameos…to an audience of empty quinto bottles and of course this Scot. The lead role in today’s stage essay reminded me of Captain Pugwash…although a little more animated than the animation…and without the assistance of Tom the cabin boy.... I wondered if this was a private showing for the benefit of a stray gringo. as they argued over a bar bill which came to four euro’s, with Manolo the barman suggesting it was such behaviour that had kept him vertically challenged…(rough translation)
And the Latin Americans promenade up and down…down and up…with a government offer of repatriation being mulled over., their squashed indigenous features giving little away apart from origin, and a will we ? should we ? we cant can we?
I have lost a couple of good friends to their homeland, oh I don’t blame them…I blame my selfishness…I suppose Venezuela and Ecuador have their attractions…but I miss Jesus & Ruben…..and David….oh and there are others. But as I attempt to integrate further….and complete my change of identity amongst the locals in this, my adopted heaven….…I hope they don’t try to repatriate me….!
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So I left the lookalike (or seem alike) Pugwash and friends to their calle encore and considered a pizza solution to my dull gnawing hunger which was climbing around my frame …and a visit to another South American friend who has meantime at least elected to stay….perhaps it is the influence of his majorera partner and the resultant infant wail loitering in his ears that bids him stay…... ….
………………………………………………………………………………………….
mmmmm…….
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Friday, November 06, 2009
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Ross
Gaelic Name: Rôs
Motto: Spem successus alit (Success nourishes hope)
Badge: Juniper
Lands: Ross-shire, Ayrshire and Renfrewshire
Origin of Name: Placename, Ross-shire
Pipe Music: The Earl of Ross's March
Clan Chief David Ross of Ross and Balnagowan
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Monday, November 02, 2009
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Thursday, October 29, 2009
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Sunday, September 06, 2009
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HOLA;
DILE A TODOS LOS CONTACTOS DE TU LISTA, QUE NO ACEPTEN UN VIDEO
LLAMADO ANILLOS DUREX, ES UN VIRUS QUE FORMATEA EL ORDENADOR Y EL
DE TUS CONTACTOS Y, ADEMÁS, TE QUITA LA CONTRASEÑA DE HOTMAIL
OJO, SI ELLOS LO ACEPTAN, LO AGARRAS TÚ TAMBIÉN, MÁNDALO URGENTEMENTE A
TODOS ELLOS, ES UN MENSAJE DE IMPORTANCIA, SIMPLEMENTE COPIA Y PEGA
Grupo de Apoyo en Tecnologías de la Información de la Guardia Civil
Basicaly it says dont accept an emailed video called ANILLOS DUREX...if you do it will re-format your computer amongs other nasty things....please pass on.
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Monday, August 31, 2009
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Yo le pregunté a un pastor del amor
Y el me dijo que se lo entregara a Dios
Que no me sintiera solo, que estar solo era mejor
Que vivir de una ilusión
Yo le pregunté a un artista del amor a primera vista
Dijo que era un error
Que eso era de novelista, soñadores
Que en la vida hay que ser más realista
Y ahora que no te tengo
Pienso en todo el tiempo perdido
Que perdí... contigo
Pues por amarte a ciegas yo...
No escuché, y me lancé al vacío por amor
Todos me dijeron, todos me advertían
Que hay flores que tienen espinas
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Monday, August 24, 2009
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Sunday, August 16, 2009
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Wednesday, August 05, 2009
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The stumbling beat of slow reggaton drifted down the street from an open window, accompanied by the sickly smell of hardship…a mere sepia smudge from poverty……….Lower class need, middle class hypocrisy entangled in a rosary of deceit….………..
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Tuesday, August 04, 2009
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Tuesday, August 04, 2009
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Mentira lo que dice mentira lo que da mentira lo
que hace mentira la mentira mentira la verdad
mentira lo que cuece bajo la oscuridad mentira el
amor mentira el sabor mentira la que manda mentira
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Sunday, August 02, 2009
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They were passing around the charity bowl as if it was likely to leave a degree of burns which would require first aid and perhaps second….
No one wanted to admit the need for such dinero succour during this time of monetary crisis, and for sure no one wanted to contribute to another’s cause. But with bars closing and empresarios trading swanky town centre offices for rent saving work from the domicile…..clearly financial times are less than easy.
But there are degrees of poor….individuals whom bemoan the groats are hard to accrue yet own not one but two or in some cases more, properties…here and in other locations of our shrinking planet, simply put, have a different fiscal comprehension than this humble Scot.
Humble huh?….Not so humble…the sneer is almost tangible.
So when will things improve? And what caused? My guess it was a who rather than a what …has been culpable for tardy cash flow….the irony being that someone has made a tidy fortune out of the mess of suffering around the developed world. I say developed, I’m not sure el tercer mundo will notice too much…as there must be a limit upon which people suffer until it makes no difference.
Thanks be to God, I have never felt such pain. But does money ease the pain? Makes life easier …but better ?
Greed is a blight on society, and lives healthily for sure here on Fuerteventura, well health is a poor choice of word but you get it…you do don’t you?
So as I endure an A.M. (instant) caffeine hit, these thoughts hover while I make for the guagua being passed by the strugglers in their 4x4 economy.
Crisis? Your crisis or mine…?
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Saturday, August 01, 2009
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Although it was supposed to be a conversation…it appeared to be dual…parallel …we were talking at each other about different things…And paying no heed …to the arriving syntax.
Stop.
The difficulties (plural) manufactured by gossip (singular) are manyfold….(singular and plural)
Stop.
I can hear the crickets communicating in the grounds of my complex clearly making a better job of it than me.
Stop.
Their chirruping almost, but not quite, soothing this disappointed Scot.
PLEASE STOP.
The recently re-opened bar almost immediately below my balcony was at least playing Dire Straits instead of dire music. And the clientele appeared a little more sedate ….but as the lager levels rise……………..
I have become a dry cell of life……….with little charge left …running low on power… caught in the cross hairs as someone takes aim..
Anyone else require a pot shot?
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Thursday, July 23, 2009
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Monday, July 20, 2009
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Saturday, July 18, 2009
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Friday, July 10, 2009
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I could hear the violins screeching ..spitting musical notes, splitting solstice sunshine…accompanied thankfully by .........a gentle breeze …aiding the heavenly bodies play...carefree for their holiday fortnight
But there too, was detritus testimony of last nights human interaction, strewn campo wide. The hypodermic of youth, a condom of surprising caution and other early year pleasure domes.
Underneath the tresses of Rasta styled hair…a skin colour of bruised orange and pitted complexion was telling a tale of hard years difficulty…unsmiling past with unpromising future.
Wearing a home made psychedelic print cheesecloth as her fashion statement and date stamp…..
To be continued…
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Innes
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Monday, July 06, 2009
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Airport arrival
Atmosphere heavy
Accustomed anticipation
Hellos
Hugs
Handshakes
Tears
Trepidation
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Tuesday, June 30, 2009
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Monday, June 15, 2009
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Was that delusion peeking round the corner of life…? it was her fingernails I noticed first, that luminous give away which she (yes she!) had forgotten to conceal.
I had considered, briefly, that my recent radio presentation had a moment of magic where I felt sure an audience really was paying attention to the airwave borne musical message.
I also wondered about monophobia.
Mine was becoming a stained existence, perhaps it had been for some time. Tired of gossip and other conversation sell by dates …..It was time to withdraw a little more …perhaps I should climb into a discarded shell------if there’s one big enough.
Or maybe there is a vacancy in the rear window in a suitably comfortable family saloon where I could become the nodding dog of life………………………agreeing with everything and
EVERYONE.
I can see a freighter on the Atlantic. Bound for destination unknown. Better to travel in hope than to arrive…
room for a stray Scot?
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Innes
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Sunday, June 14, 2009
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Saturday, June 13, 2009
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Razón y Corazón Razón ó Corazón Razón ------ Corazón
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Saturday, June 06, 2009
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Tuesday, June 02, 2009
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El próximo viernes, 5 de Junio, a las 20:00 horas, en el local de la calle Tajo, número 3, de Puerto del Rosario, tendrá lugar la reunión de socios, socias, amigos y amigas de la UDF.El objetivo de esta reunión es la exigencia de una convocatoria de asamblea extraordinaria por parte de la directiva del club, así como la puesta en común de ideas e iniciativas varias para afrontar la salvación y continuidad del proyecto que representa UDF para el fútbol en Fuerteventura.El local está situado al lado de la peluquería Domingo. Esperamos la mayor de las asistencias posibles. Todos los que quieran aportar algo en este difícil camino de reconstrucción que no dejen de pasar y hacerse oir.
VIERNES, 5 DE JUNIO, 20:00 HORAS. C/TAJO, Nº3.
PTO DEL ROSARIO (AL LADO DE LA PELUQUERÍA DOMINGO)
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Tuesday, June 02, 2009
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crawling in my skin
these wounds they will not heal
confusing what is real....
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Thursday, May 28, 2009
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Friday, May 22, 2009
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Sunday, May 10, 2009
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Friday, May 08, 2009
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Sunday, April 26, 2009
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Fear.
The queue was casual at a bus stop where I seem to spend a lot of time, and the girl in front of me was nothing unusual save for the fact I normally scare them away. But there was something amiss in this otherwise tranquil post meridian cameo where baking heat ensured everything went slow, then slower.
When she spoke to me, it was if impeded speech was holding her shy conversation to ransom and down one side of her being everything trembled.
Fear? no…..not fear.
Yet surely too young for the selection box of ailments that would cause such a tremor.
Stroke? Parkinsons?
Fear? no…. not fear.
Although no medic, I understand pain…and as she climbed aboard the guagua, holding out her coins for the driver to make a fiscal decision the metal bounced around her palm and I understood her pain.
The bus pulled away from Nuevo Horizonte and on toward El Matorral. The grubby windows , allowing scant visual access to a Fuerteventura wonder of another molasses sun melting onto the mountainous horizon., as if the volcanic ranges were collecting setting gold and I considered how lucky I was to be fit and worry free……for now.
Fear? no…not fear.
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Thursday, April 16, 2009
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felicidad no es hacer lo que uno quiere
sino querer lo que uno hace
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Monday, April 06, 2009
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Sunday, April 05, 2009
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majorero, ra.
(De Majorata, nombre indígena de la isla).
1. adj. Natural de Fuerteventura. U. t. c. s.
2. adj. Perteneciente o relativo a esta isla del archipiélago canario, en España.
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Friday, April 03, 2009
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Wednesday, April 01, 2009
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something I have been meaning to do for a long time........so I hope you dont mind this being quite so public....
do you remember the struggle I had to keep you and Simon at Vic...? maybe you didnt believe me ....but I felt it was a lesser place without you guys....
still is..........
dont stop being special
Rest In Peace B.P.
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Thursday, March 26, 2009
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Who is the man I see
where Im supposed to be?
I lost my heart , I buried it to deep.
Under the iron sea.
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Tuesday, March 24, 2009
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Sunday, March 22, 2009
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Quizá no fue coincidencia encontrarme contigo.
Tal vez esto lo hizo el destino.
Quiero dormirme de nuevo en tu pecho
y después me despierten tus besos.
Tu sexto sentido aún sueña conmigo,
se que pronto estaremos unidos.
Esa sonrisa traviesa que vive conmigo,
se que pronto estaré en tu camino.
Sabes que estoy colgando en tus manos,
asique no me dejes caer.
Sabes que estoy colgando en tus manos.
Te envío poemas de mi puño y letra.
Te envío canciones de 4 40.
Te envío las fotos cenando
en Marbella y cuando estuvimos por Venezuela.
Y así me recuerdes y tengas presente
que mi corazón está colgando en tus manos.
Cuidado, cuidado, no perderé
la esperanza de estar contigo.
Quiero beberme de ti todo lo prohibido.
Quiero amanecer besando toda, toda tu ternura.
Mi niña, mi vida, te necesito.
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Innes
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Friday, March 20, 2009
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espero que este sea un hermoso día para ti. ¿Sabes qué? me quedé pensando en lo que dijiste sobre ser un idealista.....Somo muchos los que soñamos con situaciones ideales, personas ideales, atmósferas ideales......¿sería posible no soñar con esto?...¿cómo sería nuestra vida sin esos momentos de idealismo? .... Nuestros sueños nos acompañan siempre. Nos recuerdan que podría haber algo más ....... nos permiten elevarnos y mirar la tierra desde el aire o desde una nube............
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Friday, March 20, 2009
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Thursday, February 12, 2009
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It was 5.16 am and sleep evaded as usual, which meant another exhausted day in the freezing Catalan capital. Such an existence of nervous traveller was accompanied by the return of his demons. And at this window in time, many more fold. Swimming in and out of tortured imagination.
Another hotel room, more unfamiliar surroundings, a city where the sirens of a stretched emergency service were as clarion calls, heralding another life beginning or …ebbing away….
And so how would today be dealt with….a more gentle promenade was required, a little self care of his systems, which he felt sure had begun to fail…..now a half century had come and gone.
Way below the hotel room, the muted rumble of underground trains were an almost soothing metronome, timing their beat to his heavy heart. Their pulse his pulse.
Share and share alike.
Something for something.
Quid pro quo.
Strangely the previous evening, a wave of loneliness had washed over his being as he went from café to bar to café exploring and searching for one of those Latinas who flicked a pony tail of wisdom at the world………
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Sunday, January 18, 2009
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In soft gleaming night of stars,
May all your dreams come true.
May every star of every night,
Bring love and joy to you.
Happy Birthday to you.
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Sunday, January 11, 2009
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Quizás este no sea el momento para preguntarte
Si es que al pasar tanto tiempo,
pudiste olvidarme?!
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Tuesday, January 06, 2009
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Friday, December 26, 2008
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Hypothetical Hobnail
I have been crunching around on invisible emotions …..a compañero recently complained by way of reddening countenance.
Sorry W, I won’t be horrible to your team ever again.
But the chewing gum of guilt remains stuck on my shoe sole…providing unwanted extra adhesion on this islands streets to nowhere, only slightly melted by the opinion of an ever shining sun…way overhead in our Fuerteventura mid-winter,
Where I met an argument on a zephyr…
“I’m never coming on holiday with you again” wailed the rotund female sporting a northern accent and angry disposition……….her silver haired male companion remained silent, a look of grim resignation coursing along the lines of his tired expression… a hoped for handsome becoming wrinkled and ugly.
I almost expected a string section to be playing in the background ….evening dress and ball gowns…duelling with double bass……plucking harp in another fantasy for the disenfranchised, the unconnected.
But there was no music, just the bile of anger and sorrow.
It was around the next corner I encountered a festive season …..Whether I wanted it….or not.
Deck the boughs with jingle bells or something like that, Santa in sunglasses. I like it for the little ones, to see the excited little faces is heart warming, but I still remember the time when I discovered that Papa Noel was maybe not as real as I thought.
Was it this life’s first major disappointment? Might have been, maybe still is.
And so to the New Year and its resolutions. Must be more aware of others sensitivities.
Will I get some softer shoes in my Christmas stocking? Bin the hobnails.
Even if they are only hypothetical.
Seasons Greetings.
SB.
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Wednesday, December 24, 2008
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