Thursday, 26 February 2009

Can I get a Witness?

I have been feeling a tad nostalgic lately. Might be the time on my hands, or the fact that I´ve taken up to writing poetry again, or maybe that I just realized I have travelled through a decade to find I´m clearly the person I was then.
Am I being too weird?
Certain interesting things have been going on that I believe are more than mere products of chance. I was re-re-re-reading "The Electric Kool Aid Acid Test" and suddenly I got the urge to get a copy of Herman Hesse´s "Journey to the East". Last Tuesday, as I wandered along neverending Corrientes Ave. I found a 1971 copy of the book! Of course I purchased and already finished it...But I digress.
My friend Loli´s birthday proved to be the perfect excuse to throw a psychedelic bacchanalia the sort I used to do in bygone days. Lady Astor back to spinning some records and happiness all around!
Do tag along if you please...

Monday, 23 February 2009

They Say

Reading the morning papers, as I usually do, I was inspired by an article which spoke of a community orchard which has been sown in a Godforsaken land nearby the railroad tracks in Caballito. I personally found it a delightful idea, seeming to me a preposterous thing to have land left scattered, without it being tended and made fruitful. Apparently, the neighbours find it utterly offensive that people can turn an awful space into a haven and have asked the city government to get rid of it.

Your Lady supports this venture, and wishes for many more to come. This little poem is dedicated to those who brought green hope to this world, while I drink some tea made by assorted blends of herbs from the Cordoba Sierras.

The gorgeous butterfly image was taken at the Huerta Orgázmika and is a clear proof that their deeds are good and necessary. More power to them!


They say,
Why should we share?
There is not enough
For ourselves.

They say,
Why should they enjoy the sunshine?
We spend every day
Enslaved in our caves.

They say,
Why should they be happy?
When I’m weary and sad all day,

They say,
Why should we endure in the city
That foul little piece of dirt?
When I never touched the soil,
And I never grew a plant,
And have no respect for life
But my own.

They say, they say, they say!
But most of them are afraid
Of the freedom and the purity
That little piece of land nobody wanted
Really represents…

Sunday, 22 February 2009

Lightning Speed

I´ve returned from a hectic weekend in which a handful of the usual crew stayed over at Cristian´s pad. We cooked some seafood, which was delightful, and then spent the rest of the night playing Monopoly (which he won) and Trivial Pursuit (which I won). After that, some films and still rapping until it was noon on Saturday and we had been up for over a day! Still young I guess... This is the definitive proof.

Rain was definitely something welcome to all species around this part. And sipping mint tea while watching the rain fall down makes it ever so perfect.

The picture portays a road in the Nevada desert, as taken by Ansel Adams in 1960.


Hours and hours and hours,
Playing, talking, attempting to beat the world record
Of hours being awake.

No fear.
Only hour after hour of naked existence,
Of fast talking,
Of baring the soul to the max…

You could never make it
Like this on your own
Without the added power.

No saccharine for me.
No diet colas or low fat foods.
Just a raw piece of reality
Eating at your flesh.

No sleep.
Just speed,
Bare and perfect,
Lightning illuminated
By the mind’s rod.

Tuesday, 17 February 2009

Edge City

I am not always as cheerful as I seem. Today is one of those days. I happen to be in a foul mood... Hopefully, it will be better tomorrow.

The image that illustrates today´s verses belongs to artist Val Britton and it´s called "on the edge of the continent".

Black, dark chinese tea, no sugar...


I rage at the sight of staleness.
I have never been one to tolerate cowardice,
Never known to show compassion
To a man who can still fight.

If you can still use
Your arms, your eyes, your two legs…
You can still make it to the finishing line.

I have been to Edge City
Many, many times,
I know its dirty, godforsaken streets,
Inside out.

I have stared wildly at the eyes of madness,
Looked down at the abyss of despair
And again shot out to the surface.

I have lost everything
And come back from the dead,
I have been maligned and cursed
And thrown to the wolves…

I always come back,
I always fight,
I always emerge.

A word to the wise,
Live only NOW.
Don’t save your breath,
Cause tomorrow may not come.

So be yourself always,
Love, Run, Scream and Shout…
Be an original.

At least that way,
You may hope to be remembered;
And that the Gods grant you
Fair dwellings in the after life.

Monday, 16 February 2009

Little Terrace Time

I do not own, like most of the ladies who grace today´s society, a grand garden with a swiming pool, a tennis court or a maze to play hide and seek. I have a small private terrace with a barbecue and a small strip of land. But I do cherish my afternoons there, when I sit right after watering my plants and sip my favourite blends of tea.

I had mint tea with brown sugar today, perfect for such a rainy day!


How many hours have I spent,
Gazing at the simple Nature
Of my minuscule terrace?

Trying to find in the leaves
An answer of some sort;
Being their quest for life
A proof of our own will to survive.

I intently stare at the sky,
Feel the soft breeze in my hair…
Such a wondrous feeling,
For such a tiny space!

A cloud shaped as a dragon,
Which then turns into a snail,
These are the sorts of things
That make us feel more humane.

I sit in a plastic chair,
Waiting for the sun to set…
I’ve done this so many times!

It is my own quiet time,
A cherished little moment,
I am ALL with the World,
And nothing can harm me.

As I wait for the stars
To start twinkling in the early sky,
I feel immune to my problems
And thank the Gods I’m alive.

Faint music and the sound
Of my husband’s hands tapping the keyboard
Let me know I’m still around.
That I’m me,
In my house…

But still the lingering feeling remains
That there’s more to the World
Than us and our earthly designs.

Saturday, 14 February 2009


My friends,
Your Lady woke up in a sunny mood today, and browsing this vast Babel that is the World Wide Web, couldn´t help but notice the surge of "Valentine Day" related topics and symbols. Me, being a purist, couldn´t help but write a picaresque little poem extoling the virtues of the ancient fête of Lupercal. Which, according to Plutarch: ..."Was anciently celebrated by shepherds, and has also some connection with the Arcadian Lycaea. At this time many of the noble youths and of the magistrates run up and down through the city naked, for sport and laughter striking those they meet with shaggy thongs. And many women of rank also purposely get in their way, and like children at school present their hands to be struck"...

Cinnamon herb tea is perfect for today, its tantalizing qualities will undoubtedly make your heart race.


They tell me it´s Valentine´s Day,
I should be showing my loved one
A special time,
Shower him with gifts and dinner…
Or should that all be for me?

In the old days they called it Lupercalia.
When I say old I mean Rome…
It was a massive party on the streets,
Which lasted two full mad days.
Naked youths ran around the city,
Striking the ladies with thongs.
That sure sounds like fun!

These days,
Chaucer and Hallmark
Plotting through the ages,
Invented an obscure “Seynt Volantynys day”,
Binding men to please selfish women

Myself, however,
Trying not to be selfish,
Will go back to basics
And try to have my loved one get naked…
And strike me.

Wednesday, 11 February 2009

Coming of age

One always ponders on the past, it´s an unavoidable trait of humanity. Today, as I browsed through the pages of an old Moleskine I came across this little poem, I´d like to share now with you.
Nice mint tea could take the edge off these little verses, I seemed to be in a foul mood that day!

The picture is an outline of my shadow at dusk, taken in Sabadell, Spain. This was my very first house of mine own, and I loved it dearly. I was another person then, but without whom I could have never become the person I am now.


You are and have always been
My one true love.
Always have been besides me,
Since I was born,
Day one.

When I cried
You hugged me,
Invented games,
beautiful worlds,
Fictions of my imagination...

Every time all things went wrong
With your mighty wings
You took me away
To the safest place
Near Mount Olympus.

When I grew up
And none of my dreams came true,
You built my armour,
Which shone as gold.
Never to be taken or broken
By a human soul.

Many men attempted
To take my love from you...
Only I found nobody
Could turn me on like you.

Cause even in the darkest nights
If I should call one name in bed at night,
It won´t be God,
Or mom, or dad,
It will always be my mind.

25th January, 2005

Monday, 9 February 2009

At the Forum

Last Friday I spent my afternoon running errands around the City, near the courthouses. It is an area of Buenos Aires which always reminds me of my childhood, since it was here my father had his most successful office. I had passed many an idle afternoon at that office, and lunching with him in a place at the corner fitly called "The Forum".

I decided it might be wise to visit some of my "ghosts of Christmas Past" and had a lovely ham and blue cheese roll at that restaurant. It tasted just like I remembered...
Earl Grey with milk and no sugar, is perfect today, being Monday and all ready for a trip to Lady´s yesterdays.


Sitting where my father sat
just twenty years before,
ordering the same,
trying to feel sane.

This is where it all began,
Here is where it all went by.
How we came to be
those we are now,
our broken souls...

Days before that fateful date
were filled with blissful smiles,
but as the bayonet flew ´cross the room
we found no reasons why.

The film of our lives together
was burned and stopped right then.
We tried to paste it back,
but all to no avail.

I have to say,
though years have passed,
the food here tastes the same,
these blue cheese, ham and palm rolls
are childhood in a tray!

How funny are we humans,
so often thinking back...
How many of you would think me mad
for sitting where he sat?

History has a funny way
to make us believe she repeats herself.
But any of you
who´s seen life through
will know it´s not the same.

Seasons change,
our lives divert,
the path we knew so well...
most likely fades away.

Only I have known,
I witnessed all,
the triumphs and the fall
of both my parents lives
and only now can share it all.

Feelings kept locked
in the cupboard
at the back of my mind;
Open up, open up!

The rolls and tonic water
they both taste the same,
the wooden chairs and tables
seem to have been changed,
but the picture hanging on the wall
tells the tale too well
Of many like my father,
who sat here raising Hell,
and thought this was his world.

Like a wounded Lion
in the cruel wilderness,
the same way he was discarded,
by those wielding the flag
of unloyalty and pain.

He who loses ALL
and lives to tell
has ALL and is ALL
in the Other World.

February 6th, 2009

Friday, 6 February 2009

The Mystical Company of the Holy Six

First of all, I´d love to thank the darling friends who follow my musings. You are aware that without your adoration I would cease to exist!
Friday is upon us again, so I am taking the chance through verse, to relive the last of Venus´favourite day. That is last Friday. In which an inner circle of six of us had an ecstatic experience in the fore mentioned Bella Vista Estate owned by my dear friend Johann Sebastiann (since as such he was recently rechristened).
In an eerie note, I´d like to point out that the number six is a loving, stable, and harmonious vibration, also ruled by the Goddess Venus, Aphrodite in Greek (Αφροδίτη).

The picture portrays a mosaic of the God Dionysus (Διόνυσος) riding a tiger, as featured in the Museum of El Jem in Tunisia. Very fittingly, Dionysus is the god of wine, the inspirer of ritual madness and ecstasy and consorted with Aphrodite.

Tonight, I recommend a tangerine tea made from chinese Oolong, spiked with some electric entheogens... Even Ladies expand their consciousness.


The Mystical Company of
The Holy Six
Who all came their own way
To spend their days
Beneath the moon and stars,
Under the water
and under the sun.

Their quest to forfeit
The blatant lies
Of society and city,
And to listen for once
To the subtle music
Of the birds and trees.

In bucolic recollection,
I will give account
Of their trip to the realm
Of the expanded mind,
And the REAL characters adopted
Once egos are left behind.

It is in such Ancient World,
That maenads and satyrs
Wandered across the forests
alongside the God Dionysus...

It was said by the High Priestess,
Who lived within the Forest House
Before the mists of Avalon came to be,
Before Legions trampled on the White Isle,
That those who sought the Horned God
Were pursuited by Him instead.

And with such frenzy it was,
That the seeker became trapped
In a world between the worlds,
Only to return at noon
And once the morning mists were gone.

It all started as a game,
Alas! Doesn´t it all?
And as the players shared
The soma of heavenly delight,
The voices of the night became
Much clearer than those of light.
And in the magic of the moonlight saw,
How players changed from man to myth,
and shed their heads...

Imago is as shadow,
The visible construction
Of the personage.
We play until we remember
Which face, which moment,
Which part?

The Priestess, The Poet, The Pirate,
The Virgin, The Lizard and the Crazy Duck...
Which is which,
And who is what?

Oh, but the stars shone so bright!
Oh, but the guests were so brave!
Oh, the night, such a night!
It will be forever pursuited,
But never will be as that.

They danced
And they sang,
They laughed
And they drank.
They searched for the Holy
And for their lost friend
They cried.

And as each of the Six
Discovered a world of folly,
Each one in their own way
Found the way back home.
And to this earthly realm,
They returned.

Thursday, 5 February 2009

Lady Loves the Acid

Couldn´t be happier today! I heard through the virtual grapevine that Gus Van Sant and writer and producer Dustin Lance Black - who have just finished that jewel of a film called Milk - are currently working on one of my favourite pieces ever: The Electric Kool Aid Acid Test.
It would be an understatement to say that amazing literary juggernaut by Tom Wolfe had an influence on my life... I have been lucky enough to correspond with Ken Kesey himself while he still was among us, and know first hand what a remarkable human being he was. He even took some of his precious time to read some of my poems and posted one in his toilette, so he could gaze at it in his private time. Not to forget Ken Babbs of course, who once sent me a poem by Dante Gabriel Rosetti for my 21st birthday!
This is an amazing opportunity for those younger than myself, for whom the written word can be a tad daunting, to experience a bit of pranksterdom via the silver screen. I trust Mr Van Sant will do FURTHUR justice.
I can´t wait to see who will be chosen to play such iconic figures as Kesey, Babbs, Jerry García or Hunter Thompson!
Oh dear, I need an iced tea pitcher to overcome my anxiety... Maybe some Baldwin´s nervous pills as well!


Think for yourself
Of precarious Society.

MY Body
MY Consciousness
We can all become
Our OWN gurus
We can gather as a tribe,
We can BECOME a tribe.

Society is decrepit
and corrupt
Free speech is NONEXISTENT
Your Utopia is our Slavery
Your Wealth is our Poverty

If people only took the time
To experience the Divine,
In their own way,
By their own right,
You would instantly become

Wednesday, 4 February 2009

The Nobility of our Fellow Dogs

My friends,
I was recently lucky enough to get acquainted with three marvelous creatures of the canine sort. Their lovelyness inspired me greatly, since as I strode towards the trees to have a seat beneath the shade - courtesy of my wonderful friend Juan and his lovely Bella Vista Estate - they all followed and kept company at my feet.
In this Arcadian context it was, that I composed these verses I now share with you.
It is an afternoon sunset setting, so the suggestion today would be rosehip tea with a touch of lemongrass and a few drops of honey...

Lady Astor

Note: The picture pertains to one of the very hounds the poem refers to, as a puppy.

Soft furry company,
in the flesh
of protective friendly self.

Never demanding or selfish,
perfect in their being,
they lie besides you
in silent company.

Their tender charm,
their childish ways,
their longing eyes...

Golden haired
beautiful creatures of Nature,
Intended surely for our sake.

To guard and protect
our homes and persons,
to love and honour us,
being their candor
truly Divine.

Tuesday, 3 February 2009

By the Beach

I recently spent some time by the sea, in the Brighton-like resort of Mar del Plata. This poem was inspired by the spectacle I witnessed from a lonely bench, overlooking Playa Varesse. The pictures were taken from that very spot.
I suggest green tea with a hint of lemon, to fully appreciate the experience.
Hope you enjoy it!


I let myself go
and see no one.
I couldn´t care less
about the hungry packs
of bottle blondes
that roam the streets,
lusting for the perfect tan.

I see instead
my soul unchanged.
The little girl of yore,
the wife and woman of today.

I sit and behold
the magnificent skyline,
beloved by my mom.
The tender way the clouds
paint the ocean
in patterns and shades of green.

I don´t even have a thought
to spare on greedy sunbathers,
hoping to hog all the sun,
while building invisible trenches
to enclose themselves from the rest,
who are actually their mirrors.

I look above and beyond
and see Blue.
And the realms of Gods,
and all those
who have left these lands,
and now roam
and from Elysian Fields hear my thoughts.

I confront the ghost of those past,
and embrace their invisible arms.
I see smiles from Italian descent,
and the clear shade of old Irish eyes.

As bulky men flex their arms,
while their girls show off their toned abs,
I sit by myself and write,
fully clothed,
an Ode to the Land.
The glorious marvel of nature´s perfection,
which was intended unspoiled.

And though the cheesy sounds
from some faraway speakers
spoil my concentration,
I see them all fade
and no longer care...

18th January, 2009

Monday, 2 February 2009

Summer of Ladytude

First post, first self owned "blog"...
I actually dislike the word, I prefer to think about it as a virtual board, like old-fashioned blackboards from school. A board where I can post my rants and have a sweet and sour tea party with friends and lovers, depending on my mood.
I´m an anglophile Argentine, a citizen of the world, a defender of Greco-Roman culture and Victorian furniture, a firm believer that a cup of fine Earl Grey can sort out any ailment. Especially if added some previously chilled milk.
I love my husband, who is a pirate and a rascal. I love my sister, who is a priestess of Aphrodite. I love my friends, who are ALL misfits and pranksters.
I hate vehemently all the things I hate, like Nature when she produces hurricanes.
I´m unfair and believe in Justice and Beauty and Knowledge more than anything in this World.
I´m Lady Astor.
Come have some tea with me...
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