Faith saved us from the savages that we were, losing faith makes us savages again
“Para que el cielo se refleje en el mar tiene que haber luz, útil y clara, aún en la noche. La luz que se nos ha dado es para que siempre la aprovechemos.”
+++
“For the sky to be reflected in the sea there must be light, bright and useful, even in the night. The light which has been given to us is meant to be used for our benefit.”
Bodo Vespaciano
ON ROLLER SKATES
He was born on roller skates
I don’t remember the exact date
but it must have been one summer long ago,
he grew up as fast as light,
learned to think and learned to fight,
on a summer breeze so very long ago.
He left crumbles on the road,
never carried any load,
but he always had a place that he called home,
struggles? Sometimes, sometimes no,
wasn’t much he didn’t know,
but he never could resist the urge to roam.
Summer’s heat and winter’s rain,
fighting hard to beat the pain,
life ain’t easy when you swim against the flow,
shelter’s rare and hard to find,
when you’re odd and misaligned,
and you’re looking for the northern winds to blow.
Death came easy,
death came fast,
rest for weary bones at last.
As his ashes floated past my eyes of green,
a thought crossed through my head,
wondered which books he had read
to become the character he’s been.
‘Cause I’ve seen him everywhere,
lonely wonderer sans care,
a million stories of his life and crimes.
But him I did know very well,
yet his name I’ll never tell,
‘cause his memory’s forever in my mind…
C.2024, Francisco Bravo Cabrera/01 JUL 2024/Valencia, Spain
“Even to your old age…I am he…who will sustain you…and I will rescue you”
(Isaiah 46:4)
Although my back’s not as straight any more,
and I don’t walk quite as quick,
I am still what I was,
though my hair’s not as thick…
In fact it’s all gray
with soft traces of white,
and I’ve left my beard grow,
I must look quite a sight…
Although every morning I sit
and I read my newspaper,
by the end of the day what I
read I can barely remember…
Every day, more and more, I see ghosts
In the streets,
Are they friends from my youth,
These strange phantoms I meet…
Yet I spend hours now thinking
of those that have left,
remembering places
feeling most bereft…
And now I don’t wander too far
from the house,
my eyesight betrays me,
my knees may give out…
I am lonely, quite tired,
and longing for rest,
fearful of eternity,
alone in my quest…
And in silence and truth
I pray to your ears,
I hope you will hear me,
I hope you are near…
Even when I am old and gray…I (will) declare your power…to all who are to come.
(Psalm 71:18)
(C.2024, Francisco Bravo Cabrera, 09 JUL 2024, Ilica, Turkiye)
FEATURES en VALENCIARTIST ya ha comenzado. Esperamos que os unáis a nosotros y también que disfrutéis de los poetas, escritores, artistas y más que en la serie veréis. Los protagonistas serán entrevistados y además publicaremos sus biografías y muestras de sus trabajos artísticos.
Aquí va nuestra cordial invitación para que todos participéis.
Si eres poeta, escritor, artista o te dedicas a alguna de las bellas artes, puedes ser protagonista de FEATURES. Para unirte, solo tienes que responder a esta publicación con tu dirección de correo electrónico para que podamos ponernos en contacto contigo con la información necesaria.
+++++++++++
FEATURES on VALENCIARTIST has begun. Hope you join us. And we certainly hope you enjoy the poets, writers, artists and more which will be featured. All protagonists will be interviewed, a bio and samples of their work for your delight will be included.
We cordially invite you to join! If you are a poet, writer, artist or are engaged in any of the fine arts, you can be a protagonist of FEATURES. To join all you have to do is reply to this post with your email address so that we can contact you with the information necessary.
CHEERS
Political assassinations have probably began when politicians began exposing themselves and their ideas before the public. I cannot think of how many emperors, kings, satraps, and other political leaders have been assassinated throughout history. From Julius Caesar to JFK and now to the attempt on Donald Trump, assassins, or would-be assassins, have decided that their way was the way of getting rid of a leader and have taken their best shot.
I don’t agree with them, but it does not matter, it is part of history and one cannot change the course of history. Recently we saw the attempted assassination of the Slovak Prime Minister and not too long ago (2021) we saw the murder of Haiti’s president, to name just a couple. And now Trump becomes the target. Ironic…
Trump, who thinks everyone in the US should own whatever type of gun (firearm) they want, no restrictions, who is heavily endorsed, and financed by the NRA, who has incited so much violence and created such divisions throughout the US, now becomes the target of a lunatic, twenty year old, with an AR-15 assault rifle. A man with no regards for human life for he fired at least eight rounds into the crowd, lamentably killing one man.
There is no condoning the barbarous act of cowardice committed by this young, would-be assassin. However, one has to think that his would-be target, who has espoused hatred, has offended his rivals and many, many others, has dehumanised immigrants and demonised political opponents, might also stir up the same sentiments in someone completely on the other side of his politic and of sanity.
People look for motives, but motives for crimes are not important in criminal law. This shooter committed a grievous crime and whatever motive he had is really not that important. What motive can rationalise such a brutal act?
CHEERS
Este cuadro, de mi colección particular, lo pinté en 2003 y fue expuesto en una galería de Estambul, pero nunca quise venderlo. Es mi homenaje a la gran cantante cubana, Celia Cruz, la «guarachera de Cuba». Lo pinté pocos días después de su muerte el 16 de julio de 2003. Celia Cruz fue una gran cantante y embajadora de la música salsa cubana que cantó por el mundo entero y lo hizo con decencia y orgullo, pero jamás dándole crédito alguno a los comunistas que desgobiernan Cuba. Celia abandono la isla esclava en 1960, sabiendo que nunca más regresaría y vivió en Nueva York hasta su muerte. No puedo pensar en una artista mas digna para hacerle un cuadro de JaZzArT, surreal-expresionismo. Por eso no lo vendo.
+++++++
I painted this painting, which now belongs to my private collection in 2003. It was exhibited in a gallery in Istanbul, but I never wanted to sell it. It is my tribute to the great Cuban singer, Celia Cruz, the «Queen of Salsa.» I painted it a few days after her death on July 16, 2003. Celia Cruz was a remarkable singer and ambassador of Cuban salsa music which she performed all over the world with decency and pride. But she never gave any credit to the communist who rule over Cuba and have hijacked the country’s true destiny. Celia left the enslaved island in 1960, knowing she would never return, and lived in New York until her death. I cannot think of a more worthy artist for me to create a JaZzArT, surreal-expressionism painting for. That is why I do not sell it.
GRACIAS – CHEERS
“Even to your old age…I am he…who will sustain you…and I will rescue you”
(Isaiah 46:4)
Although my back’s not as straight any more,
and I don’t walk quite as quick,
I am still what I was,
though my hair’s not as thick…
In fact it’s all gray
with soft traces of white,
and I’ve left my beard grow,
I must look quite a sight…
Although every morning I sit
and I read my newspaper,
by the end of the day what I
read I can barely remember…
Every day, more and more, I see ghosts
In the streets,
Are they friends from my youth,
These strange phantoms I meet…
Yet I spend hours now thinking
of those that have left,
remembering places
feeling most bereft…
And now I don’t wander too far
from the house,
my eyesight betrays me,
my knees may give out…
I am lonely, quite tired,
and longing for rest,
fearful of eternity,
alone in my quest…
And in silence and truth
I pray to your ears,
I hope you will hear me,
I hope you are near…
Even when I am old and gray…I (will) declare your power…to all who are to come.
(Psalm 71:18)
(C.2024, Francisco Bravo Cabrera, 09 JUL 2024, Ilica, Turkiye)
Political assassinations have probably began when politicians began exposing themselves and their ideas before the public. I cannot think of how many emperors, kings, satraps, and other political leaders have been assassinated throughout history. From Julius Caesar to JFK and now to the attempt on Donald Trump, assassins, or would-be assassins, have decided that their way was the way of getting rid of a leader and have taken their best shot.
I don’t agree with them, but it does not matter, it is part of history and one cannot change the course of history. Recently we saw the attempted assassination of the Slovak Prime Minister and not too long ago (2021) we saw the murder of Haiti’s president, to name just a couple. And now Trump becomes the target. Ironic…
Trump, who thinks everyone in the US should own whatever type of gun (firearm) they want, no restrictions, who is heavily endorsed, and financed by the NRA, who has incited so much violence and created such divisions throughout the US, now becomes the target of a lunatic, twenty year old, with an AR-15 assault rifle. A man with no regards for human life for he fired at least eight rounds into the crowd, lamentably killing one man.
There is no condoning the barbarous act of cowardice committed by this young, would-be assassin. However, one has to think that his would-be target, who has espoused hatred, has offended his rivals and many, many others, has dehumanised immigrants and demonised political opponents, might also stir up the same sentiments in someone completely on the other side of his politic and of sanity.
People look for motives, but motives for crimes are not important in criminal law. This shooter committed a grievous crime and whatever motive he had is really not that important. What motive can rationalise such a brutal act?
CHEERS
NO OS PERDONO EL OLVIDO
Yo te cobijo mi hijo luchando,
contra margaritas, claveles,
naranjos .
Te cobijo del viento
y de tragos amargos.
Te libero de embrujos
de almas violentas,
del calor,
de estos lares
con horas tan lentas.
Yo te cobijo mi hija morena
de los lirios y fresas
y de duras cadenas.
Te cobijo del frio
que te quema la cara.
Te libero sueños,
y de pesadillas,
del rencor
de estos tiempos,
pues el sol ya no brilla.
Yo te cobijo hija mía la mayor,
de los malos momentos
de ese extraño señor..
Te cobijo de espantos
que pueblan lo oscuro,
Te protejo del rio,
de las fuertes corrientes,
de la envidia que vive
entre tan mala gente.
Pero no os perdono el olvido…
15 de julio de 2024, Francisco Bravo Cabrera/Derechos Reservados
Vimos el partido junto a nuestros amigos que también le iban a la nuestra selección.
GRACIAS
JaZzArt en València