martes, 23 de febrero de 2010

The Cat Piano,,

Este corto va genial con el clima,, recomendado por la gran Gabs,,, narrado por Nick Cave ,, inspirado en el poema de Eddie White ,,ambientado en el lejano pueblo de los gatos donde el jazz aúlla todas las noches,,la música suena,, y la pasión se desborda,, algo macabro empieza a suceder,, altamente recomendable,,





Poema de Eddie White ,, The Piano Cat

Long ago my city’s luminous heart, beat with the song of four thousand cats.
Crooners who shone in the moonlight mimicry of the spotlight.
Jazz singers. Hip cats that went ‘Scat!’
Buskers with open-mouthed hats hungry for a feed.
Parlours paraded purring glamorous songstresses.
Smoky hookahs and smoking hookers.
Strays strummed string and sung a cocktail of cat’s tails.
A decadent party of meowing sound.
A bohemian behemoth, post-midnight soiree.

Amongst the chorale ‘o tuneful ones was one fair queen who drew me from o’er the way.
Her fur, an amorous white and a voice that made all the angels of eternity sound tone deaf.
Blind with love at first sight, touched by the taste of her sound,
I longed to be the microphone she cradled near her breast.

‘Twas our Shang-ri-la of sound,
A paradise found where nothin’ could stop us.
Or so it seemed.

Singers began to vanish like sailors lost at sea.
Snatched from stage alley way
Shanghai’d from behind scarlet curtain.
Into thin air they disappeared without a single cry.
Police study the clues.
Foot-prints from human shoes.

So you’ve heard of every instrument but?
Torn from your history books is this pianola,
This harpsichord of harm.
The cruellest instrument to spawn from man’s grey cerebral soup.
The Cat Piano.

Confined were the cats in a row of cages.
With each note struck upon it’s ivory tusks,
A sharpened nail would pierce each cat’s tail,
Forcing a note from each pitch on the scale.

I ran my cursed writer’s run to tell her beware.
She wasn’t there.
My soul capsized.
Like a fish, paralysed.
On a chopping board, its spinal cord ripped forth from its body,
Her vocals the last the thief had needed,
A rare celestial pitch that would complete his collection.

The city in unrest.
Fights broke out in its sleep.
I couldn’t dream anymore.
There was a hole in my heart and everything fell out of it.
All music forbidden.
Keep your lullabies hidden.
And your A and E minors off the street after dark.

My town grew cold and bitter.
In icy hibernation was the once thumping heart.
Now seizing up.
Freezing up.

Katzenklavier.
The torturous worm of sound burrowed deep into my ears.
Le Piano du chat
I thought of Van Gogh.
Neko Piano.
I’d put an end to this incessant, inescapable drone.
Mao Gang Qin

I enlisted an army of the brave and I their general declared war.
Poised with tooth and fire in paw.
We would finally settle this musical score.
Eyes with fierce intent that glowed.
Through tempestuous waters we rowed.
Storming the shores,
Swarming in scores,
Scaling its walls with well-sharpened claws,
We invaded the tower through all its doors.

Up the winding stairs,
To meet him with blinding stares.
There he sat.
The organ grinder.

He turned, we pounced, we scratched and bit.
He stumbled.
Fell through the window.
Screaming into the indigo waters below.

We freed the chain gang from their jail.
Cremated the piano.
And for home we set sail.

The city had reclaimed its vestal muse.
It would live again.
Beat again.
Cats would sing in the street again.
And I in anonymity as I had been long before this soliloquy,
Could sit and listen from afar.
The Cat Piano, now a healed over wound.
And this ode its fading scar.

lunes, 22 de febrero de 2010

Si,, efectivamente es Audrey


Hoy te vi a medio dia en Love in the Afternoon,,empezaba a llover, en ese film estudias chelo en Paris,, tus cejas son pobladisimas,, tu papa un detective y te das vueltas todo el dia por la calle ,, le haces bromas a Gary Cooper y la vida parece tan facil,,, usas gafas oscuras,, tu cabello es suave y hueles riquisisimo,,y tus brazos son delgados y graciosos,,,tu mirada tiene una curiosidad enorme,, caminas hiperactiva y alborotada,, me gusto tanto pero tanto verte de nuevo que el cigarro que fume al verte en la tele fue el mejor que fume en mil años,,, me encanta esa parte donde hablas muy mal sobre tus orejas,, a mi me gustan pero que se va a hacer,,, en fin,, fue un gusto verte de nuevo,,,





domingo, 21 de febrero de 2010

Quiero que llueva y al fin llueva,, las cosas salen bien al fin,,, que pasara mañana

La mejor cancion del mundo,,,,


sábado, 20 de febrero de 2010

Sabado,, PJ,, mi prostata por PJ,, pero tiene q ser sabado.. tienes cara de judia,,

miércoles, 17 de febrero de 2010

Cortometraje genial,, pura dedicacion al humo XD

lunes, 8 de febrero de 2010

Dolores O´riordan esta allá y yo acá,, bah




miércoles, 3 de febrero de 2010

Voy de negro y de negro me veras,,,


Hoy recordé al hijoputa mas grande todos los tiempos,, el mejor de todos,, the original men in black,, el cantante de country que vivió como un rock star,, al tipo que grabo un disco en vivo en la prisión de Folsom ,, el que siempre vistió de negro,, el de la voz profunda,, el que siempre vivió al filo de la casualidad negando impecablemente sus intenciones sobre lo que escribía,, lo que hacia lo que sentía,, pero a la vez fue sincero toda su vida,, contradictorio?? así era Cash,, si quieres saber mas de el insisto chapa tu wikipedia,, ahora solo música,,,

















lunes, 1 de febrero de 2010

Los dos se aman,, el se ama y ella se ama,,,

Parroquianos

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