How Do You Know Period Is Over

Natural Force.

What did I do this year?

I waited forever, and still hope

you wake up, sing me

Gustavo

I hear in the midst of this silence.

Without uttering words can you talk about your history,

listen to you guys, and our offspring will too.

back and sing that song you wrote this year that you like a butterfly caught in the strands of a dream.

"The metronome of God put the time in suspension" in this place you with your guitar and looking forward to hear that new song, your unforgettable voice and clear.

Today marks one year of the stroke he suffered Gustavo Cerati after a concert in Venezuela. We all hope your recovery, there are generations who hear his work.

A big salute to family and friends, may God give you strength to go along with it that need it.

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Mezzo-soprano in the choir of the Teatro Colon in Buenos Aires.



Mariela an admirable talent.
From the shores of Paraná,
brought you the tale of singing on stage at the world. Your voice now
mobilizes more,
the soul and dreams. Acuna

sun looks in the air and scatter
secrets of a world that still exists.

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Express.

This is my site.

Among words I wanted to leave my presence

,

and this is the problem today:

am another poetry

not see you forced to follow,

but if you do,

discover that the universe of letters

can baste

sighs and experiences

and I am writing today

only what I can see in your eyes.

I'll tell you tenderly

without trouble, I searched those words

sounding soft colors that have

remote, those born in the bosom of the earth,

which transmits that musical note, the

expressing my love.

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Truly Risen.

Peace and I wish you much happiness in this new dawn

where the sky meets the earth ,

where God meets man

in a project known only

talk of Love

not forget dear friends

that above all

things most important

restarted more than 2000 years ago

death was defeated

Jesus is risen

worth living, worth Amar.

apologize for the photo I took last night at the Easter Vigil, is out of focus but

my heart and mind were floating in the air.

If you do not believe or have other God, remember that just as He loves us and keep looking.

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week.

These days my only poetry is talking to God. Melodies in the air leave my heart. I write in the sky feelings that have no words. On the ground decipher the mysterious love that does not get tired of getting my attention. For Jesus is my poetry, intimate musical note of my soul that sings. This week I will die with him again in the cross of every day.

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Promise. Behind

the shadows of dawn I waited to tell me how many times did you need. Then I mistook the sound of the day peening dreams and proposed wilderness. So one more day left unfinished, he lacked our promises.

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death. These boats

I thought I had gone through this site. Death once again shows its wood mortise and apparel, candles and flowers. What is death like? What a face libido? "In the eyes tightly shut? "The murmur broke out in the hall of despair? Nothing is equal, it is unique, inexplicable, almost grotesque. This new death untied my soul, and wandered in free fall, flew, it fell apart, until some held her arms and restored sanity.

Everything begins again, is the cycle of life that demands your time, worth nothing if I learned that today is the opportunity to live love and love living, and dying for love every moment of my life.

You passed through my life like a rose, your time was short like the rose that now sleeps in your garden.

Ro Rest in peace, Jesus and the Virgin Mary, I embrace.

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.

With the bitterness of some mates,

the sun began to warm when

afternoon slowly disappeared.

But death always struck me solitude.

was like ships and carried away

my eyes, my hope and laughter.

This happened long ago.

when the wind was dressed in gray to shudder. Today

loneliness is my friend, I need to consider

broken fragments of my story, to heal my mind.

Nothing can take away what I love,

've learned to look at the landscape

that is my soul.

Loneliness who knows how to take advantage of fears.

and knows how to keep secrets in his silence.

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That I can tell? Here I am, worshiping in this silence, in the midst of this peace. Arrebátame, protect, do not stop looking at me that I never separate me from you. My poetry is my prayer and my prayer became poetry to You my Lord. Today I discovered your birth, she remains in every heart that perceive it to be change, promise and joy in a world that tries to live without you. You are the truth. My truth, in which I believe.

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Arugula, prosciutto and Parmesan.

Lost, it was very lost, until I found

between projects and fevers for wanting to be.

Unaware that end would, I bet you all my glory.

I unveiled your scent of salt and moisture that surrounded you, I melted in your arms and my skin is dressed in the green of your leaves.

My madness unleashed this analogy to be me and you the same being.

Here you take my label, my most polished work, keep my secret, now have

who sigh in your path.

I'm happy , my hands as the best of the artists finished their work.

proud

And you want to show and dream of ecstasy and sumptuous mouths filled with your flavor.

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Gates.

meeting is where all the answers, sometimes incomprehensible because separate me from Thee a fence: I myself.

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VITRIOL revival at the Palais

Palacio Barolo, Av

May 1370, from 02/04, 21hs Saturdays. Http://vitriolteatro.blogspot.com/

http://www.pbarolo.com.ar/

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The world today is Japan. Thoughts

Humans desperately needs the human being.
to preserve, to restart, to believe again.

My soul goes around, praying for everyone.

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"The five burritos"

Javier Villafane (in Rooster Pinto )

(...) They loaded the moon

burritos

five and walked slowly across the river

.

're coming down this road.

With the moon in tow

burritos arrive.

who want the moon

must be asleep.

to sleep,

the five burritos

and come!

iA dream,

round the moon

already come!

Along with the moon

sleep my child and will ensure

five burritos.

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doggy. Nostalgia Guaraní Federal

Today had other plans
out, prowling for neighborhood as every morning, leave my trail
canine
into a shed looking for a delicious waste, chase a butterfly
technicolor,
or running furiously to nibble distracted ankle in the first pass.
Everything faded to see some of my own murder armed with a rope in one hand and a scented soap in the other.
My dreams of freedom were dashed in the large pool of laundry.
Now while I dry in the sun, I think, how unfair is my life!

For my Gigi, tied him because he likes entalcarse with soil after the bath. What for one is fair for others it may be the greatest injustice .

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Nostalgia Guaraní is a group that performs songs entrerriano
littoral, I admire a lot and I saw them perform live,
recently I heard they had separated and I was very sad.
The music is immortal, like poetry and the man can not destroy
the wonderful work that he spent a day in their hands, now where was so much talent? Perhaps among the trees and the river who witnessed such sensitivity. Nostalgia Guaraní
always live in those we love the songs of our land.
I share it with all my amigos.Los greeting and always remember that visit, the art alive bearing fruit for us compartir.Un beso.Roxana.

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Have you noticed?

I always wondered when it would no longer have those details that surround us in our life, I always thought that at some point there would be a day that we forget, or they would stop giving importance ... but ... in almost 15 years these small but rewarding moments keep repeating day after day ... day after day ... and we enjoy them over and over again .... Still, I keep wondering if someday we will stop them ...

Have you noticed the number of conversations we have had long hours of talk?

Have you ever stopped to think about the amount of laughter, tears of laughter that we shared?

Look in any corner of our home, and find one where we have not hugged or kissed.

Remember how many tears I've calmed down, how many days I have gray color, how many you get anger me quite naturally, with yours ...

how I look when I do not see you, how much you like my smile ...

Look how many times have we done to reason, as we explained the other side of the coin and as the end we reached an agreement, or as we to disagree ...

are only 15 years, I know, a pittance for what we wanted to wait. But without doubt the best years, with its good and bad times, but with you, together ...

not mistake me, lucky woman who could be at your side, that it was your wife ...

My husband, friend, lover, teacher ... you already know that would not be who I am if you were not .... I love you. My J.

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Albor.

Climbing towards the light I let my hands and worn threads,
a blank paper and a dead walk.

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VITRIOL BAROLO - Trailer Dir D

I invite you to vote this trailer at the following link:

http://www.alternativateatral.com/trailer120-vitriol

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Covenant between you and me. Missing

All air, fire and water, salt

, the sweetest, the colors of the rainbow,

freshness

River bathing my feet,

sunrise, the starry night,

rain wetting the land,

so is our love, is the most

February

beautiful dresses in heaven to thank

life together.

all are to me,

the beginning and the end

my life is the figure

of your being, drawing

of your laughter, and my eyes are always

phone

eyes lighting the night of my life.

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.

Again I'm away, I'm in a world

strange to me.

is day and my soul feel it is time to dream. Accustomed to look

Peace River,

miss the beauty my eyes

and contact with what is not seen and not touched.

But in an oversight, I stole a poem

this gray day. Now it seems

is not so far that trip

promised to the world of letters. Only

I strip me of this costume

skin, otherwise it will make my mind.

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upstairs

De upstairs