How To Make Chair Covers

Part One: Memoirs of the cave / Aesthetics vacant and vital


Part One: Memoirs of the cave

DEDICATION

At
cultural battles of the world and my country, because everyone there is a financial capital and wealth
human, but if there is no culture
know what to defend and how to organize such capital or
nor his people: Carlos López Dzur

As
Montanist subjugation Alliance Stop ax

The father and ax
sacrifice and the offering
The
No ax ax Carlos Abram
much I loved him! And it seems a person
pequeñarra Night Creature

The scoffers of the shadow
fire Bring Blaise Pascal
A Cave
mutatis mutandis
Blessing of the children
Caverns
belief
Executioners Terror comes
Ni who will save us
The Lictor want to
The fox Lumia Lumia
Pleasure exact figures
The original fox
The pure relationship
my nose
Owner House of lust

<>

As Alliance subjugation

The Holy Alliance was concluded in Paris in 1815 between Russia, Austria and Prussia to suppress the national aspirations of small nations subjugated.

be something to see!
... if that comes to you, giving you breath

virtue of its many prohibitions,
if that's yours that enjoins ax
Stop, fill your comfort. O
convincing.
In the shadow of the cave you
retained and still he obeys
five fingers are five senses
impurely honest, soothingly

acquired myopia and tradition of whip and whip
Synarchist rugged
with pleasure. Will


thing to see the Holy Alliance with the Invisible Hand
you drown! ... There is
Russian roulette with
Paris and the trigger, ready to shoot
the temples nubile, innocent
and grief.

With the Prussian discipline damn
five fingers, rub the penis. With Austrian pride

empties and take their cum
in the decorum of others.

be something to see when you say you want

sovereign nations and my children with power over the flames. 09/07/1989



<>

Montanist

In the name of what you talked about love
truths, Montano,
if you got the marrow of life, rotten tree
if
transform this human seed
licked
haunts me with your killer tan
boast?

A
branches and seeds left over the TUEC, holes, and a wind
century, not east,
the trunk of my curses
trees and, beyond, into the shadows of rest. The

Sinarcas, armed with their probe,
surround me, I have removed the root
avoided giving their votes to
rope (and thinks, and bless this heart
so outraged and banned).

vetarro I'm with my bones, longing

days and own account and made a monkey
noctívago spirit.

I searched the woods, without fear,
stone to extend and enlarge the soul
the reason for my being
and oil in the morning.

But who are you,
son of mountain, with what love,
if any, were written
last days of man on the world, how worms holy

rejected the marriage of the substance
with heaven, what awkward truth or explanatory notes
read his lie
and kicked me out of my mountains transcendent? Absolute and deadly


are your troubles, your profanity,
I preach, you Axe
is what hurts geometries.
Your voice is killing the Christ ultramontane
.

<>

Stop
ax
rescued
power each simultaneous control.
The absolute authority of the Pope was
and he came, arriving
was when I carried my child as a gift.
In his name, told me:
Stop the ax, the royal son!
not kill, do not return to the bosom of God pure
not take another step
you do not deserve the significance!

<>

The father and the Axe

... the intolerable stupidity of virtue: Nicolai Berdyaev

The good is not absolute.
Shut up, fly pleasures, and pose
go to hell, the rules Pharisaic

maim me and the father is carrying
virtue of pequeñarra

picture of roadless wilderness,
for his soul.

Go where I do not see them. That

condemn me and not just hear the neighbors
the posh, the will and blackmail.


I can not pray in the darkness, I want the highest
light the flame. My pain


lie down on it hard and hot
boulder where I myself am
father and my pain, the ax
disheartening that this mandate will shout:
kill him with knives with your evil shadow,
be offered unconditionally and sacred things!

The Oblate
is not lawful guardianship (which someone offers you

civil liability as admitted and declared)
or adventure that will pave the path numinous


consolation or easy when it hurts the heart and life and all omniconclusivo
,

justification of the act and the battlefield. 05-22-1989



<>

sacrifice and the offering

Nominalism denies the existence knowable deprincipios experimentally discoverable universal physical beyond the realm of sensory perception

The ax and the wind blowing to the West

and runs through meadows of virgin, soft body
girl jumped into the abyss
, faith
the darker foundation,
and took the knife and she
excessive, matter, the nominee of scorn
was at its mercy, captive supplies by
with two doves came neck, with her vulva
warm and wistful
which was called the soul. The breeze was

forgot all
method (some claimed it was his act
subjective, irrational, incomprehensible,
in desesperadum).

with a cloth back and another forward
trembled with joy, turnip
tapered body and desire that empirical
remorse and substance, split sermons ruin
with nominalism.

He went to rescue transcendence
went straight to the kiss and orgasm,
to experiment beyond the proclamations
sensualist,
Cartesian a priori principles. The ax unconditional


said suddenly to the offering of sacrifice:
not equal absolute outrage you, I suffer
and do not know, I'm human, but I found
freedom
beyond your death, built for rough and vile
nominalism.

I'll give you the eternal pleasure of obedience
transcends
the love of the gods out of the cave

ego, blatant, and the hoodoo

of humanity will no longer

whim. 06-24-1989



<>

The ax not

This also ask you, my beloved
:
the fire is pleasure and good sense.
not be afraid.

Satan is not to be;
there and I handed Axe
aestheticized is a last resort.

Do not listen to the gallunga
and people who kill, that Martin

and say NO NO to another bunch ultramontane.

enlighten not too much rice
star, when you have spies in Your
to dance, and dance with me still
your side. The Fidget bestialists

, serving captive
routine
are no gods are scabies mites
are.

Lunita crunchy roasted corn, have ovaries
clean, do not give
a sentimental populist.

Do not get
as a dog whistle who
only obedience and pretext calling the shelter

in their gods. Ten

skin like milk,
beloved child, and as
silken tie your vision to the joy,
cheese is so tasty even
that baba
pig on your plate.

honeycomb wax are your lips and kiss
always a spell,

countersign the ax to the great danger.

Oh, Tona, dolphin, Jamoncito
woman, how captive neuro you haystack

mutual joy, you're mitosis, cell-
give me daughters!

<>

ax Carlos Abram

Dasein has an inherent tendency to annihilate space, to extend the senses and expand the world and to identify and organize the world, physically and psychologically, in terms of concern: Martin Heidegger

Carlos Abram Axe
proposed as useful, prepared to-hand,
this, as the given object, Carlos
know your lonco
withdrawn when you-in-common,
the son of my dream,
Desire.

You worry me,
bit of my soul! I request you
and Rhadamanthus, judge of hell, do not snatch
forever ... No matter your
prudence
are mine, not geometric spaces and abstract
!

keep you in qualitative space.
Love, I give you my original position and you sack
IS SAID
bury you in the A and I cry from the Moriah
like your grave
fatus Nothingman
and your true happiness
and rest.

<>

much I loved him!

child I had a neighbor's house when I
alike
neighbor in the house-cave of my son. I gave
cave space
of his life.
could not give more
neighbor's house or my house.

And for love, I wanted place it in his cave
true vision of the stars
full, infinite,
rock in the cave myself.

wanted to love that child.
much I loved him!
And above all things, I

ordered that he turn on new lights in the cave
satiated even with his mock
aches and pains and mine.

Take them to the house of my certainty
by desire, I discovered
wanted and I could not take what he deserves
and suffered as anyone.

Then came my father,
father of all possible neighbors and asked me
blood, darkness mine
and take it out of the cave
and to bring his
entombed and killed him on Mount Moriah
hidden in the lonely at the top.

<>

It seems a person pequeñarra

The cave seems pequeñarra
the person, the sweet and gentle breeding
of one who is so fond
and is called cradle
lunar bit, my soul
...

If the soul is much more,
how do I know?

"as argued by these similarities, metaphors
love child? In this dark

know, everything is mostrenco

and calico is not known;
only the pastrija
and
pastrana and the mound
are my bones near
for their years, their pains, their cries

with a bit of sunshine and joy. 12/04/1989



<>

Night Creature

Let me.
is so beautiful. It fits perfectly into my dream
and his hair long, curly red hair and cover my eyes and lay
that can not fly, or seep, deep, or meow like cats
proudly tender
quiet and beautiful.

Since she left, I have hands that cling to blankets
as its foundation, the loneliness is so great as Mt.
So if she comes and sometimes is, is my only joy
of freedom and with it, I'm a serval
and from the soul, I moan with delight.

With it, I'm one of the caverns
furry who knows given flight, beg for the light, in the midst of these dark
saves anyone, but that hyena
scrotums we eat, in order to rescue us
rest. Let me

. Let no one put a charm
prohibidor poster closed, where I
child so I remember when I grow up, no ...
come to the desert, and lick my Cromosonas
as Lamia "And with his tongue

mitochondrial DNA. In

Desert, as in snowy alpine mountains
or inhospitable, it is the milk that sends
the Sustainer, the miracle for my night flying.
The owl.
Life on High, Eva
Dionysian freedom, Lilith.

Let me, as I densified
and I poured on the misery of things
with heart yearning possessed by all. Let me
. Let me.

<>

The scoffers of the shadow


are to reach the five fingers of Manotas
liars, the impish presence
Invisible Hand says to Abram:
Stop, do not have to kill your kid, the son of Your
Risa.

are to get the mocking shadow,
bosses of the holes of history.
is best to leave it in the cave temple
in Python,
in prison without anguish.

come, they are to reach the Ultramontanes
, fundamentalist, red bone Martinists
,
Euclidean geometers, Fan
Thrasymachus blind, blind larvae
climbing walls and shit

carpet and splashing mud on the world
flat, stiff, shady. They
that prison
surfaces are comforting and masturbate, casqueteantes.

they who despise
curves of the complex domain, the real principles,
the science of quantum jumps ...

come, are to arrive
those who disbelieve in light winds with intense pleasures
, paradoxical moments

clean space as sickle mower, separating the chaff from the grain

and are, thus, so
their supposedly divine knowledge, that the rods
dig into the softer campion
of death ...

come, they are on the way
before the breeze at night is your ax
sacrifice, obedience and jumping,
purifying significance.

<>

fire Bring

But the Father said: Bring him to fire
dressed,
the complex domain, the noosphere.
In light of your tears, walks you
with your offering, is a sweet savor. Follow me up that hill

where shakes and arm your arm to see Silva
the
yourself to be the day you know
soft wind in my kiss. Bring me the pastrija

and
pastrana and I burn, I'll be your turnip
and inside the vulva, new soul for the soul will
sensory nominalist. With the ax
hot, promising,
pour your psalm
reharé your substance and all wash with joy new atoms. Take

ax, Abram, open that sex, give me your girls shaggy

with cheeks like rubies
crystal of Bohemia. Man

spiritual and luminous caverns will give people without faith or useless
of questionable heritage.

The torch is lit for your sake,
axes and knives that
brandish the air, for
tenderness and infinite love.
Everything will be remembered for centuries even
hermeneutic of
Decker. 06-29-1989



<>

A Blaise Pascal

I'm the one who stole fire
and went through the brambles to find
the living God. Yo.
You were only the God of the philosophers.
And if you stole something cut my hand.
You were a subject for scholars have fun
or perhaps employment, or pay simony.
You were the case Learn a how to get rich,
Suprematism, one that absolutely condemns
as God and divine philosophy of science. You were a God

conceptual. I, an older child
among rats, the kid pulling at his cock
until you go as an ogre with his scythe.
going to cut his cock and bleed

Ask aditón run on a sacrifice
human.
As the parent declines, faults.
must be said that
disappeared and was a neurotic ritual on your behalf.

you wore an exalted father.
and a source of spirit for the daughter.
At Mount Moriah. not stopped you an angel.
Isaac is no longer your laughter.

is your tears and yours. Vives murdered.

guarantor You were a God, Cartesian.
God, the unmoved mover of Aristotle. God
Hegelian dialectic
of objective idealism.
You did not leave the fire
as the god of Abraham, Isaac and Jacob.

You're not anybody's father: One
that were castrated or got the Others
in his throat from hell as Saturn,
who devoured his children.

You were the god of eternal silence.
The god that terrifies and therefore since the eighteenth century
kill him calling
cogebobos illusion, obsessional neurosis,
metaphysical artifice. With a dagger

scientistic
kill you, nietzscheano said,
because you are not good.

You stopped giving sage advice to access the real
potter thousand prohibitions and emptied
sincere belief of my people. 12/09/2003



<>

Cave mutatis mutandis
I gave

jump into the abyss when I saw the light
inviting me to leave the cave of mutatis mutandis. Del salcocho
pig did not want my food. In herds
Rehal Ovejuna,
dictated: I'm sovereign and Sinarcas
who despise
my children and give them your leftovers,
not want my dinner. Needless
exordium are
their preliminaries,
preachers of misery.

I gave the leap of faith
and my soul was a laugh,
the glory of my most beloved fruit
the vetarro
up in the boundary, the grotto of delight
routes of eternal motion.

<>

Blessing of the children

I am a parent fleeing
titipuchal of kids and me solace. Neither
tolondro or organized stunned me;
give them his own. I saw them born with taste
and I judge them harshly when
sweet love.

I see them look at home
the mother screaming in the temples.
frenzy with females,
in squares and bars, and I took communion
kids. To a materialistic
nans attributive
I gave a girl, our beloved.

With self-righteous, legalistic, or formal logic
moral Judeo-Christian, I lay down on banditry
;
but I saw the future, I saw
the perfect children who are therefore not
to wallow in the mud
or identity mismatches occur
foundations, I bless them and tell them

last (time
Axe and the summit of Moriah)
with a little future.

<>

Caverns belief

... the fallacy of the misplaced concretnss:
AM Whitehead

A cave of belief,
of abstraction, from non-specific, the silence has come
accomplice
from the corridors of Erebus,
body not only embody the man, body
just that, in the brutality of
Night fearful, restless,
bait and offers
the nocturnal animal.

The silence has come, fruitful
of ugliness and shamelessness, without intuition concreación
of timely,

unsubstantiated determinations that are the necessary and complete rationalization
perception.


Silence begins in the ferment of all dynamism
Being are saying nothing, saying the man
're not happen, you
no power, do not you act.

Silence
splits and runs when it goes to his carriage pulled
dragons, ghosts
of fullness of being disabled
in sullen inertia, rest
no man, no act
existence of its essence,
MACACOA. 12/09/1981



<>



The executioners have the sun on your part
these executioners, men
mediocrity.
in their ovens, in a few hours
arms are manufactured.


founded the bustling new time hours.

still domesticate dogs and cars moving in
and ad nutum, with plenty of utensils
overabundant.

At this time no
myths (you know them eternal structures?)
have their historical time of death;
yet, for their new names
the man who to-light resin
the end of the war,
pain and banditry,
knows and despises.

<>

The terror is that NO

He comes
Divine Tables
written with the tip of the guasca
and repulse the cap
and anal fucking Dionysian rite.

A NO that does not win for the Wolf comes
scares and bite of lambs. The Phrygian Montano
well insists
the Kingdom comes and fucks Terror,
the Lord of the Harvest is quick.

Among the poor of Haiti and Voodoo breaks
undead, a NO
candy
about Tertullian assails
and says Martinez Pascual, Jewish
liar, his farewell
and Port-au-Prince because he stinks too
is rough
pestilence and lack of lament candle
and honest fear.

<>

not who will save us

Mother Goddess
Nor is there to save us, but
7.000 years of bronze weapons and utensils
and 900 towers that reveal
slavery in Uruk, Great Wall
,
and pain, with prepayment,
back before the sun
that
Ajora in their debt collection with documents

of pandering. 06/13/1990



<>

Lumia The Lictor want to Let

comfortable in bed,
to throw a stick, as a last resort.
Let's do it on the sticky mud.
A Lichères cover over us.
's hide with his eyes closed.

The Lictor comes, the monster
Lebron does not forgive what we
, Lumia,
if our
him pleasure so we remove them, what will your changa
, putaza,
because your my changa maco?
fasces
With
requires both death and have so little, this die
vulva, brava
mojica hunger, satiety
my rich, you erica. In

your thighs of silt
my bones hiding, trembling,
sacrifice maidens,
were accomplices, I asked
to die, not you ...
other than mine. Whenever

appeared Megillah,
the Spartan, and Eurystheus, who advanced
to destroy us, we were murderers
and you, now do not you pull rattles,
Malpaga and despise you enlarge.
As great whore, postmodern cob. Today this holy fox
left.

obeyed, then you came and gave me
shell and lumiábamos,

hidden and darkened over the clay, were not paid. We give you stink

whole greedy and wise.

<>

The fox Lumia

Know the world on the Great Whore.
I fucked the change (and are therefore
my verse the Fata hatred, curse my
Fatus).

I met along vandals arrogant, humble
between heretics of havoc, stalked
martyrs, male
spectra, damaged
the end of the Middle Ages.

as he clinched a fox-Lumia was
between wild and wolfish.
hills as he drove his sharp teeth.
I searched the Mejan
like to find out what hidden Burguete
and bad host that my mouth
ensarmentó I was bitter and increasingly bitter. She

hurt as bad kiss
betraying;
bed was a heap of sand and water did not cool
ribs.
The tide did not bless the beach. Smoke and straw

passion, hope.
was no longer in the julep, but the beast
with empty saddle and the sky that told us
'Then there are the have'.

I offered my body as a colony
and crazy projects and affective logic;
was not enough, all it took
and requested more peddlers, peddler of the vagaries
gloomy,
synthesis of my beloved fox lean on the estuary
and the new Lumia
of shamelessness.

<>

Pleasure exact figures

The minute press. It's time. Today his message
papyrus
body organizes its wave, joy
on the peninsula, now charged,
night and day, with exact figures. The mourning
predictable
debt is paid from the time the dog with fleas and howls
between blacksmiths and goatherds
and claim the coins and pay.

2.

A ticking
death (which is lived in darkness until the orgaasmo
)
timely collections calls.
The ringing of the Law on High comes from
aerobic sun space, the god
banker and watchmaker,
Treasury
sky that has become all tributaries.

<>

The original fox

You have the fox originally housed the bones
as his den.
You know that heart tasted prudence
from your screen battles and moons.

The man is good as the fig tree;
women as bread, tasty.
The desire to contribute to the cooperative store
founded the company store and natural laws that the heart understands
despite environmental

pathogen and death, with its ecology of darkness.

Single paradise the source of the movement, unleashing rain
adaptation
to song, to challenge, as a myth
hope of survival.
The permanent function, reality,
being, transformed the den.

<>

The pure relationship

But where, woman, thou shalt most beloved?
I like you, nulliparous, and I will not pay you because you
hidden all I want mine primarily
, hormonally holy
your kids with their pure language
unless bandages,
the same thing to your body.

you shall find as the fox that does not sell or

purchase its prey, pursued.
Make sure if you keep your light or split
faith and malice,
your fire of love and instinct,
your fiery fish
loyalty in the mountains sacred day.

Wisp Do not go and
advantage in the eyes of the savage, he does not pay;
he bites, harasses, organizes,
despair, the anguish in his world
and there are no coins nor fascinum
or derision ;
not pay the debts due
not substantiated,
least Nacon currencies.

As the savage rite satisfied hoof
nailed by cunning and desire,
am the questioner of I love you.
04/13/1975


<>
Owner
my nose

Neither reason nor intuition
can fully grasp what being
found:
Martin Heidegger

Because, in the dark pens
lie, and in dens of the mountain, my opponent did
cities and swore:
the fox, candilazo!
I persist with my broad head and my mouth
acute.
I'm a wild dog,
still own my nose.

-The bodies come manifest before my eyes
and I did not pursue, but to poultry brooders
with
Bezug tricks of hypocritical tricks, reference,
I did the pot, go for them, the fear,
the bite and let them go, I say.
Your smoke bothers my Zorreras.


They live near me and its nauseating aroma
I hate. I have ears

steep:
'm all ears! I slip and naked

with stealthy step and follow me
tail longer than my legs.
Long and generous, my hair and with it,
Nazarite, I am born, grow, die,
but many
skinned foxes!

What is it? it hurts me instinctively.
Well I'm not intuitive, among other things!
That pain and anguish I learn!
And the cave of the gorge called
geography and early sermons in my progress, cunning, brown
my grammar, I learned ... 01/12/1976



<>

House of lust

You still time, my lover. Penumbas
cycle continues.
The cave is the home of the infidel
lust.

house Call me a bitch and vulva
of Asia proconsular of tyrants.
About three and two make five,

Chahuistle I fell and I fucked the changa.

as booty taken my body
Arabs and Turks
and not give me
hitting its last gasp. I remember the thorns

each of them, except you;
me, for you, I was a rose.

The silver threads,

melt my moons and against the years, yours, mine, have emerged countless

satrapies and new watches
and exorcisms.

They have marked my steps
of corpses,
invented discourses of power to offend.

in wheeled vehicles and stormed the Romans
have gone, I forgot.

The caves are also
brothels, objects of memory,
other corners of skinny dogs,
pulgoso turbid physical and perceptual.

<>

Part One: Memoirs of the cave / Part Two: We fell macacoa / Part Three: Moving from hyenas / Part Four Consolations Agar
____

The hyenas in "Aesthetic vacant and vital" Carlos López Dzur / Talking on "Aesthetics and vagabond life" of Carlos López Dzur (2) / CONTENTS / Talking on "Aesthetics and vagabond life" of Carlos López Dzur (1) / Part Three: Moving from hyenas / Carlos Lopez Dzur / Aesthetic vacant / critical / The ay! amatory lyric ego / Of Teth / "Teth turned 33 years": Carlos López Dzur. / In THE LIBREPESADOR / Cucumber Mayors / Cucumber Mayors /