Archive for the ‘Uncategorized’ Category


1. EL VELO | Alguien aparecio en uno de sus últimos sueños luego de una odisea clinica seria, de gritos y lamentaciones; de mascarillas de papel
cubriendo las huellas de pasos, senderos y laminas accidentales. Parte de sus rutinas – en la epoca – consistian en diez pasos de avanzada y veinte de
retroceso. Decia la vecina; sabe caballero? Usted tiene una amplia gama de problemas que van desde la piel, su pigmentacion, su presion sanguinea, la
oscuridad de sus nubes. Para serle franca; hay algo que tampoco esta bien en su cabeza! Ditto.

2. VIGILIA | En una de esas caminatas por el Barrio Chino descubrió que habian otros perfumes e inciensos mas alla de lo estrictamente farmaceutico. Asi, perfumería y farmacia hicieron eco de sus dolencias y de las variantes sociales que le acompañaron los meses post-operativos. Pero de que se trataba todo esto? Y cual era el proposito de las máscaras de papel? Mire su cara, dijo la chica de la panadería – se ve un tantico triste; que le pasa? – si, repondio; un momento duro, varias semana de convalecencia, de batas de algodón y zapatillas activas para sanar las heridas. Recuerdo que he caminado mucho; en mas de alguna ocasión especial, ella me dijo “refuerzo semanal” y la otra enfermera enfatizo la rutina de cuidados. Hableme precavidamente le dije a la directora de servicios medicos; quiero un tónico que me cuide y sane; después me pondre la máscara, en el caso de que algo falle; deseo re-encontrar al menos mi voz.

3. DESPERTAR | Hay variedades para todas las necesidades – hay tambien cansancio, piel opaca, ausencia de luminosidad, te veo las arrugas – y luego te relajas, descansas – pero pasas sin embargo noches sin dormir. Tuve la suerte de cambiar de escena; la mano generosa de un amigo me dio la primera oportunidad de levantarme – mis bolsillos vacios resistieron la dura embestida. Fue asi como en una tarde de verano la conoci especialmente sonriente – su perfume unico y singular me hizo sentirme como una causa noble – aun deseable, alguien de ciertas alturas.

4. EL PASEO | Quizas – me dije, aun no sea completamente minimalista, la ultima generacion a precios especiales, ni tampoco desechable. Me gustaria salir contigo a caminar un ratito – te interesa? Ojos profundos, una presencia de luchadora infatigable, asi ella se transformo en una vision de amantes de lo sano, de lo bueno, lo genuino. Quede un tantico perplejo, porque habiendo casi recien salido de una odisea clinica seria y en pleno proceso de curacion/tratamiento, al conocerla y saber su nombre, su trayectoria y su arrivo a mi ciudad, pues, deje de sentirme como la última generación de perdedores, indigente o un beneficiario de la caridad social.

5. ANDANTES | Supe entonces de que con ella no todo estaba perdido y que podria sobrevivir otro crudo invierno – en su momento justo – sonreirle a la primavera. Cual es su nombre? me pregunto uno de mis amigos mas cercanos; Carmencita, le respondi, una vison magica, melodiosa. Todo pareciera ir con ella mas allá de mis desvelos, incluso del año 2020. Me gusta su estampa, sus alturas y los aires frescos que trae consigo. Es genuina; leal. Te digo mi estimado amigo – la quiero – ella es mi primavera y ahora, pues, todas mis estaciones.

© Leo Campos Aldunez

Edmonton, AB (Canada)

Theme: Smooth Jazz at Midnight ©




Is that we have taller buildings, but shorter tempers; Wider freeways, but narrower viewpoints. We spend more, but we have less; We have bigger houses, but smaller families; More conveniences, but less time. We have more degrees, but less sense; More knowledge, but less judgment; More experts, but more problems; More medicines, but less wellness. We have multiplied our possessions, but reduced our values; We talk too much, love too seldom, and hate too often; We have learnt how to make a living, but not a life; We have added years to life, but not life to years; We’ve been all the way to the moon and back; But have trouble crossing the street to meet the new neighbour. We have conquered outer space, but not inner space; We’ve cleaned up the air, but polluted our soul; We’ve split the atom, but not our prejudice; We’ve higher incomes, but lower morals; We’ve become long on quantity but short on quality; These are the times of tall men, and short character; Steep profits, and shallow relationships. These are the times of world peace, but domestic warfare; More leisure, but less fun; more kinds of food, but less nutrition; These are the days of two incomes, but more divorces; Of fancier houses, but broken homes; It is a time when there is much in the show window; And nothing in the stockroom. – By His Holiness the Dalai Lama |

AUGUST 05, 2018 | Community …

COMMUNITY | “We are not called by God to do extraordinary things, but to do ordinary things with extraordinary love. Every child, every person needs to know that they are a source of joy; every child, every person, needs to be celebrated, honoured, valued and included. Only when all of our weaknesses are accepted as part of our humanity can our negative, broken self-images be transformed, for a community comes about when people are no longer hiding from one another, no longer pretending or proving their value to another.” – Jean Vanier |


1. Grooves | At the beginning O’Malley dreamed of becoming a train conductor; his fascination with these machines was almost an obsession. His mother had taken him to a miniature train showroom and what the youthful O’Malley saw in that large space was – in his eyes – out of this world. Soon afterwards, he received his first model train, featuring a little town, a few hills, and wooden people – the days were filled with simple joys.

2. Planes | a day spent at the international Airport piqued his curiosity and the imagination; flying was a must, in any capacity. His first miniature plane arrived shortly thereafter. Of course, ships were something else altogether – a blessed weekend at a major sea port close to the capital city was, simply put, extraordinary – navigating the oceans found a place on his growing list to be, and naturally that Christmas he got his first miniature powered boat, whistles and all – captain O’Malley was to be at the helm, one fine day.

3. Oceans | The early years were memorable; friendly neighbourhoods, a comfortable life provided by his parents, decent schools, and the emerging curiosity of first “loves” – basically, clowning around in wooden horses, imagining lands to explore in a country so much defined by its geography. Weekends were often communal affairs – fish meals to share, breads to pass along, and good wine to celebrate new adventures.

4. Identity | By the time O’Malley was ten, he become aware of its internal class conflicts as well – what your last name was, in the existing order, who your friends were, town or regal scents – even, your “enemies” where labelled so; and, what sort of future you were to have, if any. Few wanted to talk about such matters least his parents – they preferred to foster the idea of an idyllic nation; you are too young to ask these questions son – O’Malley was told a number of times, don’t grow-up too quick …

5. Pathways | Years later, O’Malley soon found himself in the midst of a massive gathering, his first – it seemed rather inconsequential at the time, yet, it become indelibly imprinted in his soul. He remembered right to his expiry date the wondrous voices, chants and hand-made signs, the local chapters and passionate neighbourhoods.

6. Syllabus | On a fine spiritual Sunday, O’Malley remembered his mother’s teachings; after all, he was the source of his love for the arts, literature and the humanities. Mama, he whispered, what would you like to see in the world? Well, she replied, above all; let there be peace in the hearts and minds of men, wherever geography they may be on.

7. A Mother for All Seasons | Indeed mama; let us be better fathers, mothers, friends, brothers, sisters, daughters, lovers, companions, spouses, confidants, colleagues, neighbours, co-workers, politicians, civil servants, policymakers, community leaders, cultural workers, new internationalists, engaged citizens. Let us be better humans.

© Leo Campos Aldunez
Edmonton (AB) Canada

Track: Bloom | by © William Prince


FEBRUARY 24, 2018 | Had the universe asked me about how my life would unfold since my last birthday a year ago I wouldn’t have known how to answer – the moment was dark in several levels – yet, please to report that a year has gone by and my body, mind and soul is doing much better – resilience, the survival instinct, and some very special people in my life/community (personal & professional) have much to do with it. Now, at 63 I find myself in wondrous reawakening with a deep sense of gratitude. The bonus of the story; I also met someone special last summer – Carmencita – shortly after I was released from the Grey Nuns Hospital following a serious vascular operation – the gratitude to the universe and the angels that surround us is even profounder – a series of insightful gatherings and playful interludes followed, while the alchemy of love unfolded. In any case, my heartfelt appreciation to my new love, and all the friends who came to visit me during my recovery in the past few months – you know who you are – thank you for being my friend and for being there after all these years. Poetry & Alma writing will resume, soon. Hugs and to life! | Smiling face with halo LCA

Album: Sweet Summer Days | Windham Hill Jazz

Ray Obiedo 1997 © |


His breathing is slow, broken, harsh – Que Pasa?!

His temperature falling; he shivers – Que Pasa?!

His body trembles; 3 blankets are not enough – Que Pasa?!

Emergency Response Team gathers – noises, voices – Que Pasa?!

Michael; can you breathe? If something happens, do not resuscitate, you hear! Michael; can you breathe? Cold oxygen pumping through now – Nurse! Cold oxygen; night of many sorrows – Doctor! I wish for more warm blankets – Administrator! Roommate; you stay with us – you hear?

Care: Good grief; blood pressure dropping ominously – you stay here! Michael; can you hear me? Breathe deep now; in, and out | Breathe gently now; in and out | Breathe dulcemente now; in and out. Think of your beloved daughter; breathe in and out | Hope: Think about what remains to be done; breathe in and out | See the loving welcoming embrace of your closest friends; breathe in and out | Michael; can you hear me now? Puedes respirar? Compassion: Your daughter is smiling at you; see her? Stay with us; you hear?! Yes; breathe in; breathe out. Love surrounds you.

© Leo Campos Aldunez, July 26, 2017 |

Theme: Salvation, by GuGabriel ©

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1. Down is Up – Up is Down. Through several wandering years, unconventional lifestyles and abided by the rule of law one can notwithstanding get the idea of uniformity, as if the his story, the perpetual literary narrative at the loner’s café required a special reintroduction, along with a gift certificate naturally. First person singular; pain populating his body, life going sideways afloat an old continental shell. Two days to disappear? Maybe a week? Travel to Barcelona as the last act of departure? Or return to the arms of an old lover still waiting in the imaginary mystery of a story that remains echoing through various narrators.

2. A dear friend brought a bottle of wine – just what was needed at that moment to uplift the spirt of an old wonder warrior. I want to see you on the public square once again brother, he said as we tasted the deep Chilean red – and we are not abandoning you either – stoicism yes; amicable? Always. I know it has been hard; but you will survive – is it worth it, I asked – what remains to be done? I couldn’t take another winter of deep sadness and loneliness. You need to write a different story, my friend said; heal, and get to the square with refreshed outlook – short stories; long stories, invisible stories. I look at my friend and see the intersection of a deep calling to serve, and the philanthropy of distant lands, and the soul of a woman in the distance that keep on giving.

3. Legally or illegally; remaining or exiting, he was now looking for temporary sanctuary and a shore of respite; an old man navigating a long literary goodbye. Show me the streets! The cafes, the movements of a renaissance, show me hope! – let me thank you all for your equanimity, and for showing up when it really mattered. I guess we can now return to some kind of test of passage and fall sleep with the pride of having been of service to our fellow human beings – heroes, heroines, silently; idyllically blending in, fading to black on a postcard of gratitude – infamously lonely, and faraway.

© Leo Campos Aldunez

Edmonton, AB (Canada)

Music: The Best of Carol King | Sony Music ©