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marta effe Mar 10
At the sight of the rocks
I forget
about bruised hips
and heavy legs.
I run.

The clusters of cold,
granite teeth do not shake
with the approaching of thunder.
Our thin ropes do,
heavy on our waist, sixty metres at a time.

We try to move fast
on the scarred ridge of the giant monster.
His indifference to our suffering – frightening
and alluring. His apparent death –
the essence of life.

On the way back
it is the sight of the lake
that saves us.
Lakes always do.

But not from tears of exhaustion
or sleepless nights on granite slabs.
marta effe Jul 2018
A veces
me pregunto por qué no puedo ser
una de esas personas
que no se preguntan.
Esas que viven inmóviles
inmovibles.

y yo acá , en Medellín Irkutsk París

qué cambia
qué hago

busco la búsqueda
dudo de todo

escribiendo
en este idioma ajeno

qué miedo
y que placer

y esperando
veo las hojas levantarse
en la danza
del viento que las lleva
marta effe Jan 2018
I know no home
no more.
Clouds on window panes
are forgotten
at night
through the shutters.

Moutains rest on the calm water
bringing flavours of snow.

Flies,  
unwanted company, dozed and silent
walk on the door frames
and die.
marta effe Oct 2017
you have a hive to go back to
you see
with fellow workers
a queen bee


while I
am left in the meadow hovering
looking only
for Myself
marta effe Oct 2017
I craved
the solitude
and finally feel
safe
alone in the dark woods

and now I see
bright green moss,
everywhere,
on the bark of the trees

And suddenly I know:
I've been set free!
marta effe Oct 2017
the hissing noise of a camping stove
people talking in slang
headlamps
like fireflies

I live in the present
but I still think of you
marta effe Oct 2017
walking
dazed by the noise of my noisy mind
I forget -
there always is a silent background

Of squirrels
climbing in spirals

Of water,
slow
down a cliff

Of roots
embracing the earth

How is it,
that one wants Forever?
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