Monday, December 24, 2007

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POESÍA EN PROSA

MIKAELA

Cuando llegaban las brisas con sus voces transparentes, besuqueando robles y al mendros, ella, Mikaela, me pedía que la echara a volar. Yo la revisaba, probaba su run – run, le medía su cola y amarraba su cabello alborotado. Le echaba pegante en sus roturas, le hacía mantenimiento de fiesta. Ella coqueteaba descaradamente con sus ojos luminosos, se contoneaba en la punta de sus feet and clung to me and say that was measured higher than last year, already a woman. I remember she was a woman since August last year when bringing dance to playón to premiere their new perendengues. But it was acting like spoiled child happy, then made her cuddles and her voice was low as the small birds cry in the breeze. I never liked having it controlled, for what, she always came back when night showed its first dark stripe. So this time it would be different. She got beautiful, sprayed the body with its cherry blossom perfume, that I gave a fair afternoon Fontibón. It flicked its long scarlet mane unique grace, she became my waist and pulled her seduced me, leaned back in my chest so sensual and subtlety characteristic of an experienced lover, contorted to bite his ear, while their My hands were clenched. Then he turned away laughing, asking for patience as it was the wind first three in the afternoon. Together open front door and she jumped happily enjoying the freedom from my hands. Immediately stopped running and there was a woman in the world as happy as Mikaela. With a leap perched on the back of the wind and scream galloped cloud. He shook her trying to tear it down, but she held firm while thunderous roar with laughter, throwing kisses from me I ran up and desperate to fall right into my mouth. The trees arched envious because they could not raise or grow as high as Mikaela. A huge vulture was launched against it, but with a double whammy of hands made a fine parable of the bird's beak was only a piece of cotton a cloud inappropriate. But with the north wind is not played to my carelessness and its powerful hands of god love blew me the link. I ran like crazy while Mikaela was lost in the distance kidnapped by air.

Thursday, December 20, 2007

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EL TALLER DEL POETA

Siddartha WORKSHOP

I practice the most dangerous trades:
When do I have in my hands
The power of creation
Everything becomes clay between my fingers
Things tremble at the power of words

molecules are rearranged and everything becomes in water signs
elements of the sea in earth fire lightning
When concludes
A new man has inhabited the earth.

Tuesday, December 18, 2007

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LA HERENCIA DEL PEREGRINO Antipoems

DOMINO CORNER

This is exactly where the corner playing dominoes

and drank beer
On Sunday afternoon

From my window child looked as
Speaking to put serious political

Amid double six hanged
And try goat that everyone saw the country arranged


Bouncing removing ministers to the president and

Enclosing the bandits who robbed the treasury

This is the corner
But no one was
One by one I'm just dying

With the crisp sound of the chips on the table
and a deep fear behind me.

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NO EXCUSES

I never knew Marilyn
not your poster in my room
I did not see any of his films release or carry as

portfolio girlfriend know nothing about the Kennedy
not heard from her by Sinatra
discerned no pads
Not even wanted to kill himself or was killed
So, if you'll excuse me,
Do not ask me Marilyn.

Thursday, December 13, 2007

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THE EASTERN


From my beer I could see their ancestors
Growing rice under the sun of China
profane
In my speech I thanked lilies had no feet.


the book: The fingerprints messenger

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MESSENGER TRACES OF CONTAMINATED

THE TRAIL


is useless where you hide I'll catch
Whatever name you have not the face
use
you will trace your trail of blood by
for the betrayal of your hands
For the foolishness of your science you'll catch sucking

The stench of your pettiness.

the book: The clarity of the contamination.

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the lucidity of Siddarth, THE TRAVELER OF THE FEET OF AIR.

MY FIRST FLIGHT

Before I was superman Clark Kent
Climbing on top of the guava
reached the breeze with his hands and smeared
afternoon sun

Wind I shook like paper
While clinging to the branches
saw the world in the neighbors yard
and played Lois Lane in the strange skirt

Then I went the same wind
Peleándole fruit the birds
Everything went very well with air
Up kryptonite that called me to eat.

From the Book: Siddartha, the traveler's feet air.

Dbz Kamehasutra English

against all evidence, POETRY.

URBAN HEALTH
night

It dissipates And
dead are being appropriated.


the book: Against all evidence, poetry.