Monday, December 31, 2012

DECEMBER "Dark Year of the Penguin"

With this job as a ghost
Mary, Mary, quite contrary
Am I here, or not here? What the fuck is this?
Each morning the nymphs of oblivion caress me:
"Get used to it, Idiot,
You have nothing to do in front of the mirror,
You are stateless,
without doctrines,
stop writing aphorisms, and thinking of your folks"
I cares the ivory spine of these times,
I kiss the face of casualty and I despised myself,
I lift the daring animal in which I live,
I throw it in the dark street
of similarity,
Dying its hair eleven thousand colors,
I give it Santa Monica and Hollywood in the evenings,
I fill it with cheap vodka and marihuana,
But it's useless, I'm stubborn,
I am a ghost flying to Havana.

                                    Jorge Luis Rodriguez

Wednesday, December 19, 2012

Mayan new age world-wide meditations

"With a new social order there comes a time of freedom where we can move like the clouds, without limitations, without borders. We will travel like the birds, without the need for passports. We will travel like the rivers, all heading towards the same point..." 

-K'iche' elder, don Alejandro Cirilo Pérez Oxlaj

High Noon Meditation Alignment Ceremony, Celebrating the conclusion of the Mayan Long count calendar, 5200 hundred years and the begging of the New Mayan Age of Enlightenment.
Little Tokyo Art Districts Healing Center's Tranquility Gardens.

Bring your transcending spirit, drums, musical instruments and good vibrations to synergisticly raise and retain the higher frequencies of the Cosmic alignment.

Let' the heart-beat of the native drums re-connect you to mother earth and the Cosmos. Come Dance with us under the star lit night.
Let's Get it together as John Lennon used to say, and come together to create 'A New Earth" at ADHC Tranquility Gardens 620 E 1st St L.A. CA 90011. Across the st from the Little Tokyo Metro Station.

Kava Nava bookstore is hosting an all night celebration at their Savoy bookstore. We will be co-hosting each others event's live and in the social media, in English and Espanol.

Thursday, November 15, 2012


The Green Stage Alliance 2013 ZERO WASTE CAMPAIGN for City Council District 13th and 14th, is an initiative of Sam Kbushyan, Business Representative of the East Hollywood Neighborhood Council and Director of the Immigrants Charitable Foundation. Sam is also a 13th District candidate for Los Angeles City Council.
The Campaign will evaluate and elaborate a pilot plan to develop a Zero Waste program for Districts 13th and 14th during 2013. These Districts, from Hollywood to Downtown, represents the hardcore of Los Angeles restaurant business and public events, serving a large residential and transient population.
The 2013 ZERO WASTE research will endorse the adoption of pilot food waste recycling programs and the use of biodegradable products at publicly staged events and businesses to reduce organic waste going to local landfills, replacing Styrofoam and petroleum base plastic by implementing use of biodegradable greenware and organic plastics.
We are changing from a culture of waste disposal into a culture of recycling discarded materials. We are in need of educational components for the adoption of alternative recycling programs.
These biodegradable products and recycling of discarded material services provides an alternative disposal system instead of using an in-sink garbage disposal units, since there have been extensive clogging problems involving food waste in the overflow of public sewers.
The adoption of food waste recycling programs combined with the use of biodegradable products aloud for organic waste-hauling to be mixed with green waste at a composting facility and the nutrient-rich finished product is used by farmers and gardeners to help grow bigger and better crops.
3.10 Green Stage Resolution
7.13 Zero Waste Resolution
You may review our events and progress reports as they are posted at
The Green Stage Alliance is a national network of leaders and organizations promoting our Green Stage / Zero Waste campaigns, based in the 3.10 Green Stage Resolution and the 7.13 Zero Waste Resolution of the National Latino Congreso.

You may donate to this cause at


Wednesday, November 14, 2012

NOVEMBER Dark Year of the Penguin

They say I have left
though I still rest in this furniture from childhood
next to the cyclical dust of everyday lies
in the shadows of forbidden museums
where the ministry of fear
raise their huge doors
against the shame of the world
hen pain is a preaching of silence
hen hatred is the bloody nectar of devotion
that only by faith in our dreams
we dared to see
that the wind and dust of history
demands the same value in the market-place of doubts,
that the difference between the pig and the peasant
lies in the stubborn colors of some papers
and we understand that the philosophy was
questioning if the pig lives to feed the peasant
or the peasant lives to feed the pigs,
and now that I am like a ghost
I rest under the same dust of the museums
where they exhibit governmental lies
From generation to generation
From hatred to hatred
From all the false eternity of these halls

shaken by a catechism of madness
so that the mouth of a successive priest
eats the pig
eats the peasant
and says I have left.

                              Jorge Luis Rodriguez 

Monday, October 15, 2012

OCTOBER Dark Year of the Penguin

Loneliness is eight hours in the office,
is being an old man wandering the streets without a hat,
is listening to a certain song in a premeditated bar,

loneliness is having breakfast with nobody,
writing long letters,
watching T.V. every Sunday

loneliness is a house without portraits,
a dirty carpet and an empty mailbox,

loneliness is a house without friends,
loneliness is a country, unknown

                                  Jorge Luis Rodriguez

Saturday, September 15, 2012

SEPTEMBER Dark Year of the Penguin

I close the door of my room
in silence
To not wake up the madman who lives downstairs
I walk on the hardwood looking for my papers,
Then, I transform,
Now I’m a poet and I write about my entrance
In a room full of posters, and hats,
With a broken window
Through which one could see at night
The shining words,
                Thrifty, Ralphs, McDonalds,
A bunch of faces are opened in the stars
And solitude is a previous silence that drowns me
Letting a white serpent grab my ankle,
It’s my mother’s voice, calling,
Telling me, rice pudding, sweetheart, natillas,
Telling me that my father’s watch hurts her in the wounds,
Calm down mother, or you’ll wake up the madman,
I show her Clinton’s head
Trapped in the T.V.
Talking about how everything is almost fixed,
I make her a kiss,
Give her a song by Pink Floyd,
I give her Pilar’s Peruvian hat,
And the leather hat,
And my own hat,
But the ocean explodes with rage
And there is my mother turning off all the stars,
Then, I pronounce the magic words:
                Thrifty, Ralphs, McDonalds
And her hand lets go of my frozen ankle,
She leaves causing the hardwood to squeak,
And the other madman screams

                                             Jorge Luis Rodriguez

Friday, August 24, 2012

AUGUST "Dark Year of the Penguin"

Señora, you who lived in an abandoned calendar
with the windows shut to the march of history,
in your grand shell without a porch
were even the wind stops
to not disturb the silence of the 50's
you who stopped time beyond infamy,
who entered the mystery with a robe of flowers
and curlers on
calling with screams
so many sons
and grandchildren
and who knows,
Everyone lost between Belascoain and la calle ocho
letting the coffee get cold in the solitude of little cups
and now
forced to scare the devil you have given birth to brooms,
that your hands tremble
as you sweep the sad leaves falling from the soul
because after so much ideology
though we learn to program computers,
we don't forget you, Señora,
dream in peace,
we also need your broom

                                                   Jorge Luis Rodriguez

Thursday, July 26, 2012

JULY "Dark Year of the Penguin"

The rats
Are always the first to be aware of the shipwreck,
Then they escape, with their dark glasses,
Their false passports, their suitcases filled with papers,
They mingle with the patriots,
Hide in the telephone cords,
Going everywhere,
Offering their services to other tyrants,
Exploding in a foreign land their notorious fame,
They repent, before the ship sinks
in an ocean of blood,
the rats escape,
they take asylum,
they hang themselves,
or they are saved

Tuesday, June 19, 2012

JUNE "Dark Year of the Penguin"


They came by asking for the apple,
we were innocent
they took the others,
they buried them in a well,
when they all left,
you looked at me,
then, you showed me the apple.

performed at CASA 0101

Wednesday, May 30, 2012

MAY "Dark Year of the Penguin"

the wild flowers, the nameless,
were your last recourse,
the labyrinth where you used to hide,
where you slept late,
children followed you,
you only heard bells and colors,
you spoke of pink animals,
and shipwrecks,
(the children listened in silence)
one day: the door was steel,
when they returned for you, the cell was empty
they only found a flower,
a small one,
that they could not understand

Monday, April 30, 2012

APRIL "Dark Year of the Penguin"

Let’s play death
Let’s play ghost’s
never to be seen!
We enter the offices where we were not allowed,
urinating in desk’s drawers,
Lets go through the cracks of the doors
to their houses
not letting them reconcile with sleep,
repeating in their ears the word shadow,
we dilute,
we run through the sewer pipes,
and dynamite the city,
we remain smiling next to the detonator,
I wait for your signal,
and you for mine,
but neither one of us dares

Jorge Luis Rodriguez

Thursday, March 15, 2012

MARCH Dark Year of the Penguin


That day,
classes were much longer than ever,
teachers were much more unbearable,
the heat was much more tremendous,
then, you stood at the school door
and you waited; oh, how you waited!
But he did not come that day,
nor the following day,
and there you waited.
It’s been said you went to many places,
you returned home wanting to cry,
or perhaps crying,
It’s been said you grew up,
that you live in another country,
and even speak another language,
you traveled through Europe and South America,
your face began to appear in television,
you lived in Argentina,
Got bored of Spain,
you didn’t find Greece,
there was Venice, the Canals, etc…
but none of these really happened
because your only trip,
that one that should have taken you
so far away
as only you know how to arrive,
has not yet begun.
You never went to any place,
None of those airplanes brought you back,
your travel agencies
were mistaken all these years,
You remained waiting,
still, you are there,
in a country each time more distant,
standing at the school door
waiting for him,
thinking how painful it would be
if it all was a lie,
and for so long he has been looking for you
and each time
he gets closer to the place where you await,
you must understand
that for such a little penguin
things also can be difficult,
but he will come one day,
shaking his tuxedo
before the school door,
he will help you carry your books,
he will apologize
for making you wait so long,
he will take your hand
and he will take you back home

Tuesday, February 14, 2012

She picks up the phone
and the world goes around
voices dispersing between doubts and fears
voices that call her from a far
and the words are a fragile bridge of madness
towards flickering faces
of the nigth
Like the lights of a city not yet invented
whose streets she wonders by memory,
then the lights begin to dim
But the voices still exist in the darkness,
and the nigth is immense,
So immense, that now the voices
will speak from the stars
and the sound of their lights will be subtle
like the echo of an incomprehensible cry
calling, calling from a distance
until that time
the telephone ceases to scream like a cornered animal
It's useless to ask the operator
the number of the stars,
Because in her head the voice of the impossible will ring,
The song of an unexplainable bird,
and her conversation will fly
towards that anxious voice
that has always called her,
That encounter beyond fears and mirrors...
The operator will repeat
"long distance... long distance"
It will be the longest call of her life,
the only one she will never be able to pay

Jorge Luis Rodriguez

Friday, January 20, 2012



Letters arrive in the afternoon,
Letters from countrymen and family
Letters from far away friends
Always so distant,
A lover,
the telephone bills
inside white coffres
and for an instant the traverse of time is frozen,
never knowing what they may bring
An admirer begging for a picture,
old copies of a contract,
long awaited checks,
Promises, lies, realities, illutions,
But nobody sends you landscapes,
scent of red flowers or little tiny fish
Although sometimes, only sometimes,
Doves fly away from the opened envelopes,
and the room is filled with crystalline water
where small brilliant planets float
and wake desires
to put a stamp on your forehead
and thrust your heart into
the nearest mailbox