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AND NOT KNOWING WHY

Today we live in hope ...

and run at the same time

without knowing why.

We run to stop

and hours ....

silence takes over the streets

although the race will continue

in most places

and without knowing why.

We say the same words

and the same silences

feel everything and nothing

and without knowing why.

continue living or not ...

and without knowing why.

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AND NOT KNOWING WHY ARE NOT ALL THAT ARE OR ARE ALL THAT ARE

Letter CATHOLIC PRIEST TO NEW YORK TIMES

Dear brother and sister journalists:

I'm just a Catholic priest. I am happy and proud of my vocation. Twenty years ago I live in Angola as a missionary.

gives me great pain by the profound evil that people should be signs of God's love, to be a dagger in the lives of innocents. No word as to justify such acts. There is no doubt that the Church can not but side with the weak, the defenseless. Therefore all measures are taken for the protection, prevention of the dignity of children is always a top priority.

I see in many media, especially in your paper the extension of a morbid topic, investigating in detail the life of a pedophile priest. Thus it appears one of a U.S. city in the 70's, one in Australia for 80 years and so from the front, other recent cases ... Certainly all doomed! Some presentations are weighted and balanced journalism, other amplified, full of prejudice and even hatred.

is curious how little notice and lack thousands and thousands of priests who are consumed by millions of children, adolescents and disadvantaged in the four corners of the world! I think that your source of information does not care that I had to carry, and mined roads in 2002, many children malnourished from Cangumbe to Lwena (Angola), since neither the government was available and NGOs were not allowed; you had to bury dozens of small deaths among displaced by war and those who have returned, that you have saved the lives of thousands of people in Mexico by the only medical station at 90,000 km2, as well as distributing food and seeds , that we have given educational opportunity in 10 years and over 110,000 school children ...

interest is not with other priests have had to relieve the humanitarian crisis of nearly 15,000 people in the barracks of the guerrilla, after his surrender, because the food came from the Government and the UN. It is not news that a priest 75 years, Fr Roberto, the evening stroll the city of Luanda healing the street children, taking them to a shelter, in order to detoxify the gasoline that hundreds of prisoners are literate, that other priests, and P. Stefano, having houses of passage for kids who are beaten, abused and even violent and seek shelter. Nor

Fray Maiato its 80 years, go from house to house comforting the sick and desperate. It is not news that more than 60,000 of the 400,000 priests and religious have left their land and their families to serve their brothers in a leper colony, hospitals, refugee camps, orphanages for children accused of witch or orphans of parents who died with AIDS in the poorest schools, training centers, care centers ... or mostly positive zero, parishes and missions giving people reasons to live and love.

's not news that my friend, Fr Marcos Aurelio, to save some young people during the war in Angola, has shipped Kalule to Dondo and returning to his mission has been gunned down in the road that Brother Francis, with five women catechists, and go to help the most remote rural areas have died in an accident in the street, dozens of missionaries in Angola have died from lack of health relief, by a simple malaria, others have blown up due to a mine, visiting his people. In the cemetery are the graves Kalule of the first priests who came to the region ... None passes 40.
not accompany the life story of a priest "normal" in their day to day, their difficulties joys and quietly consuming his life for the community it serves.

The truth is that we do not seek headlines, but simply to bring good news, the news that started quietly in the night of Passover. More noise a falling tree that grows a forest.

not intend to make an apology for the Church and priests. The priest is neither a hero nor a neurotic. It is a simple man, whose humanity is seeking to follow Jesus and serve his brothers. There is misery, poverty and weaknesses as every human being, as well as beauty and goodness in every creature ...

as obsessively insist and persecutory losing a topic overview truly believe cartoons insulting the Catholic priesthood in which I am offended.

only ask a journalist friend, locate the Truth, Goodness and Beauty. That will make
noble profession.

In Christ,

P. Martin Lasarte sdb

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HOMENAJE A MIGUEL HERNANDEZ AND JAÉN

Aceitunera

Andaluces de Jaén,

proud harvesters,

tell me in the soul: who,

who raised olives?

not lifted them out of nothing,

neither money nor Mr.,

land but quiet,

work and sweat.

United pure water

and planets together,

three gave beauty

of twisted trunks.

many centuries olive,

the prisoners hands and feet,

sunrise to sunset and moon to moon,

weigh on your bones!

Andaluces de Jaén,

proud harvesters,

my soul question: how who,

who are these trees?

Jaén, get wild

on your moon rocks,

're not going to be slave

with all your olive grove.

Miguel Hernández, 1937

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How easy is
relate behind the glass,
watching the rain ....
warm, dry and safe,
how easy it is.

Write and feel
the breeze caresses you
and drops slip,
face down,
to your lips.

How easy is
.. safe,
how easy it is.

And open your heart,
without an umbrella,
soaked penalty,
poetizing behind the glass
of broken souls, torn ..
watching the rain.

How difficult it is !....



October 2010.
Paco Sierra.

 




   

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EASY IS WHAT THE PAPER BOAT (7). DAWN.

                                                                     DAWN

At dawn and the first rays of sun, Carlos felt again a gentle caress on her neck that made him wake up.

His gaze turned to a small paper boat that slid awkwardly through the water.

Without thinking of the bank jumped up and ran to seize the ship, but to reach the edge, the ship sank.

... tried to pick it up and saw the water the reflection of a smiling, radiant, eternal messenger of sensations ... a face that was very family.

undoubtedly was his son.

Maybe Javier also wanted to congratulate or perhaps their final goodbyes to a smiling image, radiant and eternal messenger of sensations.

Since that bright September day Carlos never returned to the dock.

In his novel "El Barco de Papel " would add a year later a new and final chapter.


Paco Sierra. September 2010.
the paper boat.


   


   

  

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THE PAPER BOAT (6). AWARD NIGHT.

                                                                   AWARD NIGHT

Everything seemed perfect, caring and friendly atmosphere, you can not ask for more (think Carlos). Greetings, greetings, entertainment ... but most people who greeted him seemed completely unknown.

His inner world had made this present moment was another completely different reality. Lost, almost automatically, from one place to another, laughing and evaporated comments on the transience of the moment.

The night was beginning to become a nightmare that was not very consciente.Aguantando the type to the end and not knowing why.

one more episode, just another.

The award was hardly an unexpected story.

After the vicissitudes of night and not knowing why Carlos went to the pier. Arriving inexplicable force guided his steps to the bank which sat last time. Sitting down, lit a cigarette and stared into the water, dimly lit by the few street lamps still shine.

Thoughts, memories, desires, questions and tears contained lived in it until fall asleep.

.................................. .............

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THE PAPER BOAT (5). GOOD NEWS.

GOOD NEWS

Jacqueline, editorial secretary, receives a fax sent by the national newspaper "ABC". In the statement that Carlos has been the recipient of an award in that values \u200b\u200bhis career over the past seven years, and especially his last novel. Jacqueline

immediately communicated the news to the manager who has hastily telephone contact with the winner.
mobile rings Carlos who immediately identifies the number. Another
urgency of the editorial, he thinks, and never were a story of this caliber.
surprised, anxious, confused ..., had never imagined receiving any prize.

Everything was happening very strange lately but now at least it was good news.

Charles had spent almost exclusively in recent years to investigate the disappearance of his son, although apparently ran to their normal work routine tasks of the publisher.

Before the event, Charles was blocked and his ideas did not reach beyond their noses ... everything still seemed very strange.

........

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the paper boat (4)

THE PIER

mysterious Carlos attended the event wearing a dress that made him look like someone else. Dyed her hair blonde, dark glasses and a cowboy wear. Institute looked like a boy and not a writer años.Encendió entered a cigar and sat on a bench featuring a full picture of the place pretending to read the newspaper.

Few people were walking in the park and he, as much as he wished, did not notice anything strange. There were no data to give birth to the alleged cita.Un cigarette after another and a thousand skim the newspaper.

At eleven and a half and in the absence of events thought to leave the place and head the publisher but Pier leaving the bank he felt a soft hand stroked her neck.

The tranquility once took center stage inside but not in the questions on his mind. No one behind Carlos. The sensations were fraught with reality, for sure, because someone had cherished with an affection unusual and close ... very close.

A strange and disturbing peace was once again filled his mind a thousand questions, this time loaded with pleasing overtones.

phone rings, a call from the publisher claims it immediately, the issue of the paper is about to close and your item is not edited. Full speed ahead workplace to eliminate Article minutes before closing the issue and then take the road home with the sole desire to rest and try to forget everything.

When you open the door of his house, as always, the first they find their eyes is a photo of her son. Javier was 5 years old and playing in the park pier with a paper boat. Since then nothing was heard of him and the vacuum Carlos appropriated each day was more profound and heartbreaking. A sudden forgetfulness was enough.

Every seven of May every year near the pier without really knowing why. He

paper boat wave never faded from his mind.

Cigarette smoke mingled with her tears, imagining her son would now be a teenager .

..........

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the paper boat (3).

                                                         NEXT DAY ...

sweet Shooting mid-morning awakening, unusual time for Carlos he felt a reassuring force to open eyes as if nothing had happened.

Or maybe nothing really happened? The confusion was the mistress of his mind.

prepared everything with the intention that the day out as normal.

Salió de casa y tomó un café en el lugar de siempre acompañado por la lectura rápida del periódico local. Después subió al coche para dirigirse a su trabajo, una editorial en la que trabajaba desde hace siete años publicando relatos cortos, poemas y algún ensayo sobre temas de actualidad.Allí se sentía libre pero poco valorado.

Cuando llegó a la editorial todo estaba como cualquier otro día, salvo una nota que encontró sobre la mesa de su despacho. (“Te espero mañana a las diez y media en el embarcadero”). Al leerla sintió un frío paralizante y su mente oscureció de nuevo.

The rest of the day did as he worked, the hours were endless, the pages fell to the trash with a thousand studs and only lived a question in your mind. Who would have written the note?

......

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the paper boat (2)

                                                             REMEMBER

The sudden awakening of the afternoon nap unwittingly led him to the memory of the night, until now only in his life and about which questions had arisen dark. The strong light from the living room window to unscrupulous offended complete darkness who dwelt in her mind.

prepared a good strong coffee. Its sole purpose was to try to sort out their ideas.

The first sip of coffee was accompanied by the sound of the phone woke him up completely, forgetting about the thousand and one questions that tormented him. Javier was his son asking him to come promptly to collect the Institute because he had been involved in a nasty incident. No questions asked Carlos ran to meet but the Institute was closed.

fell silent. The evening became her only companion back home.

felt the need to tell anyone what happened, but hardly dared to tell himself. No one would understand, I thought, even he could not believe what happened.

The time to go to bed and Carlos approached every minute that passed I saw only excuse for delaying the moment. Remote fell from his hands and fell asleep in the living room couch. The last TV channel accompanied him all night.

........

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the paper boat (I)

THE PAPER BOAT

On a hot August afternoon Carlos awoke from a dream that involuntary certainly had dragged the nightmares tormented him night above.

Every time I tried to sleep during the night, he felt his body was absorbed by a strange force, lost control over himself and the efforts to get rid of these unpleasant sensations left him exhausted, panting, sweating to completely soak the sheets and her hands trembled without knowing grip.

This was the case again and again.

Despair made him get out of bed and go to the kitchen almost without knowing where his steps led him. On the light and saw her hands red, sweat-soaked pajamas and involuntarily his gaze to the ground. Seeing her bare feet felt a strange chill seized her whole being and fear made him fall to the ground round definitely losing control.

......

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PASSION SILENCED

not warn Sunrise,

light fondles sheets,

silent under the shade,

back into space ... passion muted.

Mirarte and anhelarte in ; night

not wanting to see, not to wish,

blind your light and silent shadows,

is not possible, never.

Turns 180 for attempt or adivinarte,

traitor who returns your mirror image,

eternal silences, sighs of the soul, laughter tied

back to the dreams of passion muted.

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NO SEA TO NAVIGATE

FALLEN TREES
BRANCH CHIPPING
and inadvertently ...
wind blow .


DESTINATIONS OR RANDOM
BLADE come and go,
fate or destiny ...
WITHOUT BORDERS ROAD,
landlocked sailing.


Paco Sierra. July 2010.

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4 th PRIZE CONTEST STORY SHORT YOUNG TALENTS "COCACOLA"

ALAN CARTER (BEFORE AND AFTER)

One day after a restless sleep, woke become someone totally different from his previous person. ... ...

- No, all wrong, it's all bad, not good for anything! Out of sight and back to work!

A short man, bald, chubby, wearing a suit and a cigar between his teeth screamed in his luxurious office to a new employee who had little time working in the editorial. The employee named Alan Carter and his boss, Soul Jhon yelling each week.

Alan was totally different from his boss, tall, short black hair, thin, was dressed in jeans, shirt and sports and of course had no no cigar in his mouth.

Alan since childhood had passionate writing stories and tales and in the end had achieved his first work related to writing.

-. I have only one problem, "he thought, let out a smile while recalling the graceful image of his boss, although it was a smile that concealed rage at the humiliation that was submitted each week because of their written.

In his desk he felt the sensation he experienced every time she came the inspiration. He began to write light and forget all the pressures and all the nerves, immersed in their fantasy worlds in which futuristic action mixed with mythological creatures and in fact it was coming to mind. This time the story was about aliens coming to Earth in a huge ship to fierce warriors fighting the Celts and Druids.

-. It will be strange, but in literature not everything has to be logical, "he said to himself - and ready to go, brought the pen to the leaves, but a hoarse deep voice startled him:

-. Alan stop writing nonsense and back to work! - John said he had discovered his occupation from the hallway.

-. Then head - Said Alan, looking into his eyes.

-. Vamos! John replied, while marching down the aisle.

-. This can not continue like this, I am not a shoe to drag my pride - and while he thought went into the hallway and confronted his boss saying

-. Sir, you humbled me this morning and I ask him to return again to read my writing, please.

-. What, you humiliated? You humble me now with your words, out of here! You're fired!

These words sat as a pitcher of ice water to Alan but she accepted with dignity, he gathered his things and left.

Within three months following Alan survived thanks to some money he had, thanks to their parents and friends. His time insisted on continuing his story completely convinced of its publication.

One summer morning in the subway, a tall, stocky, bespectacled and wearing light clothes sports in a friendly tone approached him and said

-. Alan Carter?

-. Yes, I am What do you want?

-. I learned that you try to publish one of his works by a friend and I'm interested. Can we talk about it?

-. Of course - said Alan -.

After signing by both parties Alan was finally able to see their fantasy worlds come true in a book, which catapulted him to write and write, being paid for it and being respected as a person and as a writer.

Francis Sierra de la Rosa (my son). 13. 4 th ranked province of Jaén.


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Award of Francis of Assisi Sierra de la Rosa

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TO WHOM IT MAY CONCERN

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ONLY ME IS LOVE

LOOKS LOST
SPACES NO ADDRESS,
LIVES SILENCED
WORDS OR WITHOUT AIR.


SUNSET DREAMS
in the last car;
MIL SEARCH
REASON FOR FLASHING
illuminating the soul.


time spent,
LOVE IS JUST ME,
NOTHING ELSE,
little else.


Paco Sierra. May 2010. Linares.

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SHOE MARKS FIRST MAY 11 DAYS LATER. They've gone

May Day, when historically vindicating the rights of workers. Too vague a concept in the Spain of today. Who
worker, mason on scaffolding or the executive on the plane? "And he that hath not work? That is the real worker, a true martyr of Chicago. Everything seems on the concrete and can not find your place. A thousand apologies.

And our Prime Minister to celebrate it, yes, a few days after May 1, says that pensioners will see their wages frozen, the aid of 2,500 euros by birth disappears, as officials in this country , most are robbed heuristic thousand five percent of his salary .... And some measures can not remember now. Ah yes, the government cut the pay fifteen per cent. Long live the solidarity of the government. Viva democracy and citizen participation in policy decisions.

Are these anti-crisis measures for holding the first of May to almost five million unemployed? Such is the level of manipulation that surrounds us that I sometimes think that the figure is not real. The unemployed are the real deserving of a monument, the unemployed in Spain, people have every right to be certainly more than any other.

What to do? Nor am I an economist, nor political, nor an expert on anti-crisis measures. But I think this is a result of injustice and selfishness, not to think of others and with the sole purpose of saving, protecting our status, personal status and worth defending even without evaluating the means used to achieve the end.

Serving others always understood as the value and left-wing idea, today it seems it is not. Neither left nor right, no shopping or tangents. We created without even realizing a caste of politicians exploited, close relatives of the situation trying to convey extorted as reality and time dare to say that fighting for the interests of citizens. And what is for them citizenship?

laughed out though shivering inside to see so much demagoguery and lies, manipulation involved. What do you want? Where are their ideologies and finished early? And I say it had a final finish rather than premature. What are these principles? "Solidarity, respect, peace, justice, freedom, equality, fraternity? ...." And many more values \u200b\u200bthat make man a person? Well, on behalf of all we are where we are, if we reach to see us and therefore have tried to deceive them and his face uncovered.

saddest thing is to continue to do so, follow ...
Enough!

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WORDS SPRING MOON


They left the words,
the just, necessary ...
smelling the soul.

They hid in the morning,
among rumpled sheets,
or was at night
trapped in their stride. Perhaps

took them
sea in search of other boats.

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's good to see that yet and for some things to the calendar as governed by the Sun and the Moon. For many people, probably the full moon does not mean much but for me has always had a special significance.

Jesus met at his last meal a moonlit night full, Moses led the people to freedom on a moonlit night and the moon was full on Calvary. The full moon is different and is an opportunity to see what is not as usual.

has always been associated the moon with human behavior and in fact we've all heard the term 'lunatic'. Many people say they feel changes in the way they act or feel as the phases of the moon and most say the full moon affects you unable to deny that in the period from new moon to full moon everything grows.

Robert Louis Stevenson, Scottish writer, was based on a real murder case in which the defendant, Charles Hyde, pleaded innocent saying that whenever there is new or full moon crazy. This was based on the story of his famous novel 'Dr. Jekyll and Mr. Hyde'.

full moon lunar full face is seen from the earth is lit and visible all night. In this phase the moon is full of light and restless spirits, lost space reason and emotions are unleashed. It is a very propitious time for creativity and to reap the fruits of all that we have been doing.

I hope that our spirits are restless and full of light even call us lunatics because we know that the full moon is unlike any other and is an opportunity to see what it is not obvious as usual.

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WITHOUT CORDURA

Primavera sanity

stupors content

whispers, heartbeats,

ghosts without castles.

Secret in the womb,

swim demolished,

silence in words,

looking way.

Paco Sierra.Marzo 2010.

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INTERESTED I fear? WORLD UPSIDE

Most published reports are ... bad news!. Is not no good ?. We see not the world that things happen too nice but unfortunately it does not matter. Is it profitable to be afraid?.

When do you good news, positive and joyful in everyday living?.

Every day good things happen also.

Got a good story to tell?.

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DANGEROUS POWER

Why attracts power?. What will some will not stop at anything or anyone to get it and can sacrifice anything to keep it?.

Any person may experience a radical transformation in contact with this dangerous universe and will then, automatically when stop listening to those he considered to have less and may even reach the contempt. From now direct its steps as their peers or superiors, seeking only the recognition of these, the aim being more important to expand the share of its domain, which is the best currency to be more and more each day. Shrouded the air of this universe we live now and only look out to have suffered severe and traumatic breakup with his former world and therefore to its previous form ser.Ya can not see the same way the simple realities of humans, their hopes, their dreams, their ideals, their problems and understand nothing and necesidades.No believe understand everything but unfortunately nothing will be as soon as this desire for power has conditioned all realities.

What if this power has been obtained by the trust people place?. Well, by this simple and wonderful fact ceases to belong from the same time as it has. We all know that according to the most basic and elementary principles of democracy, power should be used only and exclusively for the benefit of others and yet the reality is every day a landscape distorsionado.Con a glance we can see that although things are not going well at all for most people no one leaves his chair own initiative. What will this dangerous universe called blind power, disrupts, full of pride and arrogance?.



(published in Úbeda Information)

A lie would be meaningless if the truth were felt as dangerous.

Alfred Adler (1870-1937) Austrian psychologist and psychiatrist.

The big difference between a cat and a liar is that the cat has only nine lives.

Mark Twain (1835-1910) Writer and journalist.

never lies much as before the election, during the war and after the hunt.