The guitar
makes dreams weep.
The sobbing of lost
souls
escapes through its round
mouth.
And like the tarantula
it spins a large star
to trap the sighs
floating in its black,
wooden water tank.
translated by Carlos Bauer
Being Present for the Moment
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Singer, Songwriter and Author from Kyoto, Japan.
Singer, Songwriter and Author from Kyoto, Japan.
An online activist from Bosnia and Herzegovina, based in Sarajevo, standing on the right side of the history - for free Palestine.
A place where I post unscripted, unedited, soulless rants of a insomniac madman
Dennis Mantin is a Toronto-based writer, artist, and filmmaker.
Finding Inspiration
Off the wall, under the freeway, over the rainbow, nothin' but net.
Erm, what am I doing with my life?
Artist by choice, photographer by default, poet by accident.
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L'essenziale è invisibile e agli occhi e al cuore. Beccarlo è pura questione di culo
In Kate's World
Leonard Durso 
Excellent poem. It made me miss playing
It made me listen to Sharon Isbin playing Joaquin Rodrigo.
Beautiful! Thanks for sharing.
You’re welcome. Lorca’s great, isn’t he?
I am probably one of few people who like spiders. Great poem.
I’m not sure how I feel about spiders, but I do love listening to a good Spanish guitar.
Reblogged this on Leonard Durso.
The first two lines are brilliant!
That’s Lorca.