divendres, 8 de novembre del 2013

An invented children story

Once upon a time, there was a little boy with dark, curly hair and brown eyes. His name was Tom, and he was an orphan. He lived with his uncle in a farm, and he had to get up very early to work at the farm.

One day, he woke up, had breakfast and found a big box on the table. He opened the box, and there were all his dreams and all his fears in that box. He was very surprised! He could find all the little things he always had wanted there. In the box, there was also a note. The note said... from Mum. And there was an address also.

Tom was very happy, because he thought he would finally meet his mother. He got out of his farm, walking, and went to the train station. He asked the officer where was that place in the note, and the police officer said it was one hour away, so he bought the ticket.

He got into the train and sat down there. A while later, a man sat next to him. He wore a long, black coat. He smelled bad, and he had a weird face. Tom was afraid. The man asked him: "Where are you going, boy?". Tom answered: "to visit my mum". The man asked: "Where is she". Reluctantly, Tom showed him the paper.

The expression of the man changed. He was the surprised one then. Tom asked: what's wrong? Well...-the man answered-. Don't go there, boy. Nobody has lived in this house in a century!

Tom opened his mouth in disbelief, but he thought that, even so, he had to go there. So when the time came, he left the train (and the man) and went walking to the address.

He found it. He walked into the garden and found a very deep forest. He delved into it, scared. Suddenly, he heard a noise. He turned around, and there was him... the man in the train. He had followed him from there. He turned around and ran, until the house suddenly appeared. He opened the door and went in.

There's when the children have to invent their own ending... everyboudy is welcome to leave a comment with suggestions about how the story is going to end.

dimecres, 3 de juliol del 2013

Poesia

Mar amb olor de llessamí...
Teixit per les ones
Que bressolen el teu destí maragda

Els sentiments ballen
Perduts, disseminats, com gotes d'aigua que s'escolen a la mà dels empobrits
Que no poden guardar ni un pedaç de la seva frescor
Perquè tot és buit, només s'omple del que els diuen
Que han de ser, que han de fer

Però els fils es llancen.
En diferents direccions...
Alguns són més gruixuts, altres més prims...
Però tots contenen una part de mi
Que disperso per la immensa mar...

I cal que es tractin amb cura
No es trenquen fàcilment
Fa mal quan es trenquen
Però si no es cuiden es desgasten
I poden arribar a trencar-se per desgast
I si és així no hi ha manera de reparar-los

Però tinc una font inesgotable
De fils que teixeixo i llenço
A qui vulgui agafar-los i cuidar-los
Els que ja hi son estiren, encara que només sigui d'una banda
I fa mal.

Però el salar turquesa cura...
Esguardat per l'astre de la vida
I la perla de la nit.

dilluns, 11 de febrer del 2013

creativitat

Els moments i sentiments nous, forts, es barregen, però miraculosament m'he tornat forta, capaç de fer-los front... simplement amb una mica d'ajut. No espero recolzament... sé que el tinc, pel senzill fet d'haver viscut el que he viscut i amb qui ho he viscut.

El meu recolzament sóc jo mateixa i les meves experiències, que són prou singulars i prou importants com per constituir una base sòlida des d'on tenir la valentia i la decisió per a donar el proper pas. Aquestes experiències, però, han d'augmentar... a partir sobretot del meu lideratge i la meva imaginació. Només tinc un desig: el que sigui capaç de crear, que sigui prou bo com per dur-ho a terme.

Res més que el buit que sento molt al fons de les entranyes m'hauria d'importar, però m'importen moltes coses, molt singulars, que ocorren a la vegada i sense descans, una rere l'altra, o simultàniament... aquestes experiències seran la base d'una vida.

I això ho he fet i ho estic fent perquè he estat capaç de superar algunes pors i d'intentar que d'altres no em limitin...

En seguiré sent capaç. Si tu no n'ets, el resultat serà una predicció auto-complerta; marxaré lluny, molt més lluny que tu però simplement perquè no has volgut acompanyar-me, perquè has tingut por d'acompanyar-me. I tothom qui em vulgui acompanyar en aquest camí mentrestant, és i serà ben rebut. I valorat...

Mentre que tu acabaras sent un altre dels "podria"... llàstima, però. M'agradaria, ara mateix m'encantaria que  fossis el que "pots".

diumenge, 28 d’octubre del 2012

the homes of my life

I worked, to get a life
I got a job I liked
I happened to find a house
Which was big enough, cute, had a big garden
With many different passages, flowers of all kinds
The house was well equipped with all kinds of tools
To paint, to write, to entertain myself in endless ways
With a stunning sea view.

I built that house with people of everlasting trust
Who were always invited, though they lived far away

So everyting else was forgotten, cause I had all I wanted
But the climate surrounding the house is not that good.
We have huge sea storms, hurricanes...
And though the house is very well built, we have to repair it once in a while
And it's aging fast.

This meant that I had to stay in the house a lot
And I realised that I was losing track of what happened on the streets
Though I didn't care much
But one day, after a huge storm that destroyed the garden
I had to go to shops to buy all the necessary things to repair it
And I liked going there, talking to the sellers...
I realised that there were some things out of the house which were worth paying attention to
And I got out to the streets and squares

First, I went to the many attractions of the city; the baths, the sport clubs
And then I went just to the square
And found nice people in the neighbourhood
Interested in building a place to stay for all of us
So I'm building that for us and everybody who wants to come to our tribe

Though I'm so happy in our own house
Money is running out
The house is aging
And though the foundations are strong,
I might find myself on the streets one day.
With people I met on the streets
I built homes in the air
They were astonighinghly pretty and cute, but impossible to be constructed

So I'm trying to build another house
In a less changing environment
But I'm still in the foundations
They are quite strong, but I still don't know if they will be enough
To build a fine and welcome house
Or just a shack to refuge when hard times come

In the meantime, near the place I go
When the house is under repair
I found out that there is a village I didn't know about
With people also trying to build a common house
And I begun to help them

I don't have that beautiful job anymore.
But I'm going to other houses and they like what I do.
So I will see out if that works.

And I'm building all this, again, with those people I trust the most
Keeping track of it
Though from far away.



dijous, 9 d’agost del 2012

la plaça del poble

He tornat a la plaça.
La meva plaça, la nostra plaça,...
La de tots
Els que compartim l'amor pel poble
Per la vida
Per un món millor

Càlida conversa
El temps s'atura... no hi ha cap pressa
Envoltada per tres muntanyes;
El Cadí majestuós
El Cadinell...
I el Catarro...

Al MEU poble, l'únic que sento com a meu.
A la plaça del poble, on es remouen consciències
On es creen idees
Per fer un món millor...

Bon viatge! Em vau dir tots amb un somriure
A la plaça del poble...
Però no marxo de la plaça
Estic allà, dia rere dia
Intentant fer un món millor.

divendres, 15 de juny del 2012

Lliscar

Llisca el llapis pel paper
El patí sobre el gel
El cos sobre l'aigua
Els dits al teclat

Flueixen les fonts
Els rius
Els mars
Els peixos...

Per fluir cal lliscar...
Però què més cal fer perquè brolli vida?
Quan alguna cosa flueix, brolla de vida.

dimarts, 12 de juny del 2012

something...

Something...

Unreal, annoying, happy-feely...
That gives my hopes up
It also gives my hopes down
Confuses me

It came very deep
It's also just a scratch
It's mind, and body, connections
That are scary
And you deny

Eyes, thoughts, creativity, perception.
Feelings, sensitivity
Deja vu
Likes and dislikes

Thoughts keep appearing,
though in a different form
Is this something?
I wish I could leave it here
Cause it's no good for me
Or for others I love

It was up in the sky
Now it's coming down to earth
But it's still deep
And also, just a scratch
A little wind that moves the pieces
of the domino of my life
But it is not strong enough to tear them down
And leave an empty piece of paper

What has been written is coming out
Saying hello
It might get illustrated
But it will not erase what has already been there
Written deep in skin

Though I'd like to have the blank paper
To write without any pain
It's unreal...
I have to accept pain as a part of life
Of love
And grow up... just as I ask of you

But you have given me a road map...
Of my creativity...
Of perception
And I will follow it
As far as the north fjords go
In solitude
Though imagining you are there
Every step of the way