Hello Poetry
Submit your work and get some sparkles! Create free account
"habitable" poems
I gaze into my crystal ball, discern amidst the haze A world so far removed from that of now, it would amaze, Where catapulting incidents collide like billiard ***** And sense defies belief as renaissance makes the calls. Blueprints fresh from Internet supply the suitcase blast Where the terrorist’s, simultaneously, ignite in cities cast From Moscow to New York, Beijing to Berlin Gay Paree to London town then way out east again, Budapest, Jerusalem Calcutta burning all And Tokyo is levelled in a ghastly nuclear pall. Kneejerk reaction triggers contrails in the blue Crisscrossing all the continents obliterating through An overkill so vicious that in seconds it is past And the living cling in horror, bearing witness… aghast. Restraints are erased as the opportunists dash Flotillas from the Spratleys sprint to occupy and cash In on the minerals, oil and potential food supplies Of uncontaminated nations found beneath Pacific skies. Hindi, Jew and Muslim settle scores bereft with years Of resentment accrued in a flood of blood and tears. A sudden realisation of immensity of loss Curtails the destruction in retrenchment across The habitable outposts, the dearth of supply And the daunting prospects of a nuclear winter sky. Global collapse of all electronic gear No power, no phones, and no cars now…for years. Electromagnetic impulse put paid to all that And the day is as dark as the cold night is black. And here all we sit, in the here and the now On the verge of catastrophes’ teetering tower, With a fools pudgy finger just inches above The nuclear button…and all that we love. ……You fear the insanity, sense the insane Knowing that people like this are holding the reign? Knowing that volatility strikes Like the shot of a gun and the ****** of a knife. I don’t have the answers to hand But someone out there, knows how…and can. The sands of time are running thin URGENTLY needed a LEADER...to WIN! M. Planet Earth 6 March 2019
0
Mar 6, 2019
Mar 6, 2019 at 12:46 AM UTC
The Tomorrow that Must Not Happen!
I gaze into my crystal ball, discern amidst the haze A world so far removed from that of now, it would amaze, Where catapulting incidents collide like billiard ***** And sense defies belief as renaissance makes the calls. Blueprints fresh from Internet supply the suitcase blast Where the terrorist’s, simultaneously, ignite in cities cast From Moscow to New York, Beijing to Berlin Gay Paree to London town then way out east again, Budapest, Jerusalem Calcutta burning all And Tokyo is levelled in a ghastly nuclear pall. Kneejerk reaction triggers contrails in the blue Crisscrossing all the continents obliterating through An overkill so vicious that in seconds it is past And the living cling in horror, bearing witness… aghast. Restraints are erased as the opportunists dash Flotillas from the Spratleys sprint to occupy and cash In on the minerals, oil and potential food supplies Of uncontaminated nations found beneath Pacific skies. Hindi, Jew and Muslim settle scores bereft with years Of resentment accrued in a flood of blood and tears. A sudden realisation of immensity of loss Curtails the destruction in retrenchment across The habitable outposts, the dearth of supply And the daunting prospects of a nuclear winter sky. Global collapse of all electronic gear No power, no phones, and no cars now…for years. Electromagnetic impulse put paid to all that And the day is as dark as the cold night is black. And here all we sit, in the here and the now On the verge of catastrophes’ teetering tower, With a fools pudgy finger just inches above The nuclear button…and all that we love. ……You fear the insanity, sense the insane Knowing that people like this are holding the reign? Knowing that volatility strikes Like the shot of a gun and the ****** of a knife. I don’t have the answers to hand But someone out there, knows how…and can. The sands of time are running thin URGENTLY needed a LEADER...to WIN! M. Planet Earth 6 March 2019
Continue reading...
43
I exist in a world of careful structure Taken out of Chaos and made habitable By strict planning and strict ruling— Structure is imperative Order keeps us going Deviations are not allowed If you wish to live in my world You must learn to follow rules Reliability is key Being dependable as the rising sun Predictable as a new moon Always infallible Disappointments are not tolerated Insufficient will be cast away Deviations are not allowed So if you can’t be trusted Then you don’t belong here There will be order in my house For in games of two, there can be no others There Are Rules And they exist to keep us out of Chaos They exist because structure Ensures that we don’t collapse So when your eyes are wandering You are marking yourself as inconstant Dangerous Unacceptable And I will stop at nothing Until you’ve suffered for every sweetness you’ve laid at another’s feet I will stop at nothing Until you’ve learned that you must always choose me I will burn you for every betrayal And some will call me jealous
0
Dec 27, 2011
Dec 27, 2011 at 5:41 PM UTC
Hera
If all a top physicist knows About the Truth be true, Then, for all the so-and-so's, Futility and grime, Our common world contains, We have a better time Than the Greater Nebulae do, Or the atoms in our brains. Marriage is rarely bliss But, surely it would be worse As particles to pelt At thousands of miles per sec About a universe Wherein a lover's kiss Would either not be felt Or break the loved one's neck. Though the face at which I stare While shaving it be cruel For, year after year, it repels An ageing suitor, it has, Thank God, sufficient mass To be altogether there, Not an indeterminate gruel Which is partly somewhere else. Our eyes prefer to suppose That a habitable place Has a geocentric view, That architects enclose A quiet Euclidian space: Exploded myths - but who Could feel at home astraddle An ever expanding saddle? This passion of our kind For the process of finding out Is a fact one can hardly doubt, But I would rejoice in it more If I knew more clearly what We wanted the knowledge for, Felt certain still that the mind Is free to know or not. It has chosen once, it seems, And whether our concern For magnitude's extremes Really become a creature Who comes in a median size, Or politicizing Nature Be altogether wise, Is something we shall learn.
0
2.3k
After Reading a Child's Guide to Modern Physics
El sol dentro del día                                       El frío dentro del sol. Calles sin nadie                               autos parados Todavía no hay nieve                                       hay viento viento Arde todavía                           en el aire helado un arbolito rojo Hablo con él al hablar contigo Estoy en un cuarto abandonado del lenguaje Tú estás en otro cuarto idéntico O los dos estamos en una calle que tu mirada ha despoblado El mundo imperceptiblemente se deshace                                                             Memoria desmoronada bajo nuestros pasos Estoy parado a la mitad de esta línea no escrita Las puertas se abren y cierran solas                                                                     El aire entra y sale por nuestra casa                                                         El aire habla a solas al hablar contigo                                                         El aire sin nombre por el pasillo interminable No se sabe quién está del otro lado                                                                 El aire vuelve aire todo lo que toca                                                   El aire con dedos de aire disipa lo que digo Soy aire que no miras No puedo abrir tus ojos                                             No puedo cerrar la puerta El aire se ha vuelto sólido Esta hora tiene la forma de una pausa La pausa tiene tu forma Tú tienes la forma de una fuente no de agua sino de tiempo En lo alto del chorro de la fuente saltan mis pedazos el fui     el soy   el no soy todavía Mi vida no pesa                           El pasado se adelgaza El futuro es un poco de agua en tus ojos Ahora tienes la forma de un puente Bajo tus arcos navega nuestro cuarto Desde tu pretil nos vemos pasar Ondeas en el viento más luz que cuerpo En la otra orilla el sol crece                                                 al revés Sus raíces se entierran en el cielo Podríamos ocultarnos en su follaje Con sus ramas prendemos una hoguera El día es habitable El frío ha inmovilizado al mundo El espacio es de vidrio                                         El vidrio es de aire Los ruidos más leves erigen súbitas esculturas el eco las multiplica y las dispersa Tal vez va a nevar Tiembla el árbol encendido Ya está rodeado de noche Al hablar con él hablo contigo
0
2.3k
Trowbridge street
El sol dentro del día                                       El frío dentro del sol. Calles sin nadie                               autos parados Todavía no hay nieve                                       hay viento viento Arde todavía                           en el aire helado un arbolito rojo Hablo con él al hablar contigo Estoy en un cuarto abandonado del lenguaje Tú estás en otro cuarto idéntico O los dos estamos en una calle que tu mirada ha despoblado El mundo imperceptiblemente se deshace                                                             Memoria desmoronada bajo nuestros pasos Estoy parado a la mitad de esta línea no escrita Las puertas se abren y cierran solas                                                                     El aire entra y sale por nuestra casa                                                         El aire habla a solas al hablar contigo                                                         El aire sin nombre por el pasillo interminable No se sabe quién está del otro lado                                                                 El aire vuelve aire todo lo que toca                                                   El aire con dedos de aire disipa lo que digo Soy aire que no miras No puedo abrir tus ojos                                             No puedo cerrar la puerta El aire se ha vuelto sólido Esta hora tiene la forma de una pausa La pausa tiene tu forma Tú tienes la forma de una fuente no de agua sino de tiempo En lo alto del chorro de la fuente saltan mis pedazos el fui     el soy   el no soy todavía Mi vida no pesa                           El pasado se adelgaza El futuro es un poco de agua en tus ojos Ahora tienes la forma de un puente Bajo tus arcos navega nuestro cuarto Desde tu pretil nos vemos pasar Ondeas en el viento más luz que cuerpo En la otra orilla el sol crece                                                 al revés Sus raíces se entierran en el cielo Podríamos ocultarnos en su follaje Con sus ramas prendemos una hoguera El día es habitable El frío ha inmovilizado al mundo El espacio es de vidrio                                         El vidrio es de aire Los ruidos más leves erigen súbitas esculturas el eco las multiplica y las dispersa Tal vez va a nevar Tiembla el árbol encendido Ya está rodeado de noche Al hablar con él hablo contigo
Continue reading...
66
~ The death of that innocent child Changes the map of consciences, not of the world Again proved that our education is wrong The religion of the people turns to transgressions When blood stained in the sky Our love has become non-existence Teaches me to think of another new war! For the New Earth a habitable ~ @ Musfiq us shaleheen
0
Sep 4, 2015
Sep 4, 2015 at 4:34 PM UTC
Death of a Child
I have looked towards a million worlds tonight, fearful that there might be more like ours, where despair and anger rage and reign, hiding between hollows and sea slapped shores. Land lust. Territorial. Imperial. From lizards to lesser beasts and higher mortals, there is an extreme decadence in achieving life; primordial slime where time is irrelevant and chance, they say, defies the odds of a God. Needs must Territorial Ethereal Exploring to exploit and crudely anoint another New World is the genome dynamic. This surpasses mere survival and squats with dictatorial ardour in the heart of our universe.
0
Feb 8, 2012
Feb 8, 2012 at 4:40 AM UTC
Habitable Zones
My roots aren't here They never were I planted some crops But they were imported An ideal situation this land may be To the adaptable, changing and innovative breeds It is habitable to the natives and hybrids that are able to flourish But me, my roots come from a different tree They belong somewhere else They always have I can survive in new elements But only with proper care and chemicals The artificial adaptations eventually take their wear And usually from the inside out Without the natural nourishment I whither So as thankful as I am for a land that harvested growth It is essential to my survival that I find my proper home
0
May 22, 2014
May 22, 2014 at 1:54 AM UTC
A Proper Setting
It's already hard enough to say anything accurately without further obfuscating and camouflaging the soul. The faces in the funeral pews are impassive, impatient and the dead woman cares not what's said, isn't even present. The poet gets innumerable do-overs, it's one of man's wonders, revises his vision of his mother and plays her piano, posthumously. Why not say it simply? Hers was a comity and a tragedy. As are ours. And perform the history that surrounds us. Are caskets boats? The ship of death rides Charon's waves or perhaps on that solitary day you happily kayak to the huckleberries. Is the deeper sadness incomplete achievement or never to have tried? Any attempt to decide this question for others is to badly behave. The pablum of Christianity, esp. the Catholics, re the after life must be rejected. It's necessary. To be replaced by community, perfection of the human project, nature's intelligent partner. Dusty, sadly habitable houses along the funeral route, shapeless people crossing themselves when ambulances or hearses pass. I wanted to describe the sweetness of her life, how she was part of the problem and part of the solution. How love and evolution are passed like loaves from person to person down the generations. Find the humor in the cholera. When my father died he waved like a surfer riding a wave or a clown riding an elephant out the circus tent. Mom follows the same law. The many ways a spear can pierce a brave warrior's jawbone or armor.
0
Aug 11, 2015
Aug 11, 2015 at 4:44 PM UTC
Mom's Eulogy
This message is coming to you on the   Cee Haitch Zee. This is the Circumstellar Habitable Zone for those who don't know astronomy. I'm god, see, from the other side of the sun. Yeah. I’m the omnipotent, omniscient and magnificent one, or, if you can look at me directly, I'm the Dazzling One. Now the reason for this xenology is to tell you the secret of the suns and to vent all that cosmic stuff, including the terrestrial file on life and death, the splendid and the vile, religion, and why I **** innocent children sometimes. There. That orta be enough for a while. So look. I’ll keep it really simple here. The reason for everything is, it’s um, gosh. Well. Would you believe? I don't have this immediately in front of me. And anyway, it's been a very long time since I dragged you out of slime. Now don't go getting emotional here, because I'll delegate this to Harahel, he's the Angel of Knowledge, or maybe Gabriel. Although I suppose we could leave it till the Day of Trumpets, judgement and hell, y'know, and go all traditional. But I really don't mean to be threatening at this stage, so I'll get back to you on this one later, and then I'll give you a shout. Yeah. This is god calling, over and out. Mike T Minehan
0
Feb 1, 2014
Feb 1, 2014 at 11:01 AM UTC
This Message is Coming
Be with me in ****** footprints / in your mom's silverware sets / in stucco walls I want to sleep on dark leather couches with you. Tell me more about cable: I want you to introduce me to damp grass on football fields that we skateboarded to underneath the stars that I was with when i was away from you Hello, earthling! Let's do normal Earth things together (I could be a person for you) I fixed the thermostat so that my bedroom can be habitable for human beans such as yourself Drink six Diet Cokes with me so we can put six dead ladie bugs inside the bottles and BlowThemUpWithFire "Yes, I know about fire! I've seen it all before OK! And I want to pretend I haven't so that i can ooooh and aawwwhhh when you show me !!!!" I want to be a person for you. Spray paint my bones gold when you're done crafting my skin into a turban so that I know it's real - I made this for you
0
Oct 18, 2013
Oct 18, 2013 at 9:32 PM UTC
Spoken words / punk Boys
You left me like Chernobyl In a split second you decided you were going to combust and leave me alone with your toxic nuclear waste You left silent playgrounds inside my ribcage, abandoned because no one wants to come back for fear of catching the radiation you left behind If you listen quietly enough you can hear what we used to sound like But how can you do that with all the mess With all the books lying on the ground and every picture we've ever taken and every word that you've ever said If you take a closer look there's a lot of pages with "I'm sorry for the mess" written in them But sorry isn't what you say when someone has lost everything The street signs are so damaged that I can't even find my way home anymore Or maybe it's just because you left and I have a home anymore They say this city is haunted but I know for certain that's not true because once you left you never came back It's been 29 years and I'm still here buried under the rubble of this disaster caused by your radioactive fingertips How long am I supposed to wait to become habitable again? Every night I've wished this explosion was an earthquake so that I could have something to blame but the one thing I learned from you leaving is that there's no such thing as aftershocks in heartbreak
0
Feb 27, 2016
Feb 27, 2016 at 10:04 AM UTC
How Many Half Lives Until The Memory Of You Decays
Mama; you are the Sun As I am the Earth Naive and innocent from birth But with each revolution full of Mistakes, Enlightenment, Achievements, Tragedy. I grew more habitable. You spoke but only truths. And though you’d wipe the tears I’d shed upon the stars, You’d say “Be strong, life is tough, prepare yourself”, Phrases echoing throughout the galaxy. One however lingered over my head like the moon “Knowledge is power.  Don’t believe everything you’re told.” I haven’t mama, Knowledge is oxygen. Essential to my existence, I truly appreciate thee Eternal gravitational pull: Protection, Light you shed: Guidance, Blanket of warmth despite the season: Love. From an aspirant of glory, To the brightest star I’ve laid eyes upon, Thank You.
0
Jul 29, 2012
Jul 29, 2012 at 11:06 PM UTC
From Son to Mother
Maybe I am an alien. Some extraterrestrial being, trapped here because this was the only place habitable for whatever it is that I am. Granted, this thought posits others such as "how did I get here?" I can't answer that. All the photos of me when I was an infant support this alien theory. "Look at that strange little creature there." I'll say, knowing that whatever it is, isn't me. Not now, anyway.
0
Sep 1, 2010
Sep 1, 2010 at 9:07 PM UTC
A Very Silly Thought Occurred to Me
What are we doing as a species? Where are we going to end up? When do we decide to look within? How do we go back to how it was before? Why did it get to this point? This male dominated society we live in There was once coexisting unisex tribes Goddess worshipping lovers Plant foraging, wisdom consuming Harmonious humans There was a time when everything was a mystery to our ancestors In this day and age Before we've been somewhere or seen something We've seen a picture Word of mouth has made sure that we're not in doubt But there was a time that every new horizon Bought suspense, surprise and uncertainty A time when we had to work together to survive Learn how to do things that mattered to stay alive When exploring our own consciousness wasn't a crime What are we now? The majority Spoon fed junk all our precious lives We are forgetting that we are primates, cousins of the great apes We're forgetting our extraordinary circumstances Alive on a habitable planet Evolved through processes just learning to explain In a minute amount of time A universe the size our minds alone fail to fathom But I'm going too far The reality we're supposed to believe in is money and cars!
0
Aug 6, 2014
Aug 6, 2014 at 3:58 PM UTC
What Are We Becoming?
It hurts how far away we are from who we were together. Like souls inverted, fused by magic, and then pulled apart. Stretched across the universe by rough hands larger than anything; calloused fingers that whisper “I know what is best for you.” If time is in distance in the great big universe, maybe someday we’ll soar so far that we will find each other. In wrinkles or in recklessness, I hope your lips meet mine again, with the epiphany of what real loving is. Everyday I see you in the smallest details, wrapped in tiny envelopes and parcels all from Fate. Reading the signs is like reading your soul, in pieces that make you feel the world all at once. I am so uncomfortably aware of how small I am within this Creation that holds our habitable speck, which only proves to me that something so great deserves to exist on it. And if we are not destined to create a glory for our histories, I hope we meet as friends and lovers, and different stars in different worlds, and souls who seem to know each other but do not understand why. In past lives, I know you held my hand. In future ones, I hope you will. In present, I am always wishing you were around so our fingers could intertwine; like our paths, always intersecting in this mysterious void filled with so much magic. I am not certain how the world turns or why we grow or where we truly are, but I am certain you will always be my heart, a microscopic ***** in a sea of billions of stars. I love you like the way the Universe is, always expanding and forever flowing through time.
0
Feb 2, 2014
Feb 2, 2014 at 12:10 AM UTC
We Are Everything
It hurts how far away we are from who we were together. Like souls inverted, fused by magic, and then pulled apart. Stretched across the universe by rough hands larger than anything; calloused fingers that whisper “I know what is best for you.” If time is in distance in the great big universe, maybe someday we’ll soar so far that we will find each other. In wrinkles or in recklessness, I hope your lips meet mine again, with the epiphany of what real loving is. Everyday I see you in the smallest details, wrapped in tiny envelopes and parcels all from Fate. Reading the signs is like reading your soul, in pieces that make you feel the world all at once. I am so uncomfortably aware of how small I am within this Creation that holds our habitable speck, which only proves to me that something so great deserves to exist on it. And if we are not destined to create a glory for our histories, I hope we meet as friends and lovers, and different stars in different worlds, and souls who seem to know each other but do not understand why. In past lives, I know you held my hand. In future ones, I hope you will. In present, I am always wishing you were around so our fingers could intertwine; like our paths, always intersecting in this mysterious void filled with so much magic. I am not certain how the world turns or why we grow or where we truly are, but I am certain you will always be my heart, a microscopic ***** in a sea of billions of stars. I love you like the way the Universe is, always expanding and forever flowing through time.
Continue reading...
18
What if the stars around us are of Sentient life devoid ? Binary stars and Giant blues are common in the void. Binaries do not provide a habitable clime Blue Giant Stars burn fast and short- Evolution needs more time. Giant Reds live long enough but keep few planets warm. Perhaps upon a distant rock there is some primal goo but that is quite a ways away from beings like me and you. So please be better stewards of this third rock from the sun That lovely little yellow dwarf round which our race is run.
0
Dec 31, 2011
Dec 31, 2011 at 10:32 AM UTC
What If
1.  FUNCTION a function (of a function (of a function)⭠⭠⮪    ↳ function (of a function (of a function))     ↑                                                                               ↑ function (of a function (of a function))           ↑ ⇅                                                                           ↑ function (of a function (of a function))→ → ⤴ 2. CONTRAPTION a cute curvy carbon contraption that salivates at the ringing of a bell that clamps shut when its hairs are touched that flies south for the winter 3. GREEN is the earthworm that eats dirt and ***** soil the lichen that makes barren rock habitable the bees that pollinate so many plants the euglena i seem to breathe, yet am none of these. this makes me a broken Bigbelly blinking in the dark a traffic light saying wait, wait, wait to an empty sidewalk
0
Feb 4, 2020
Feb 4, 2020 at 9:35 PM UTC
organism
The great lines, you quote, don't stir me... you know my vexation, with the twinkling lights, that don't move. The colors, don't mix... I move from death to death, to understand life, and fail miserably. The body does not open. Seducers ready to jump for a bite, to tear off my columns, my domes. Yes, I give, give away my precious heart, time, my infallible attention to heal you.I don't demand any dough, remaining in penury, do not ask for the factors. My arithmetic has failed. Cannot solve the puzzles lost in maze of juggleries. It was your world. I am living at a binary planet, scarcely habitable. Yet I am happy in myself looking at the grains of sand on my hands. You know, you cannot write like me... like me.
0
Sep 27, 2016
Sep 27, 2016 at 11:31 PM UTC
Quizzing
. The search goes on for life     outside our sphere of knowledge. A galactic researcher expresses his desire          for answers before he dies.   He might have to settle for afterwards.
0
Jun 6, 2012
Jun 6, 2012 at 2:19 PM UTC
The habitable zone
This is ground control I sneaked in to give you a call, it’s been a while and I yet wonder are you still floating ‘round your tin can? Since you launched in sixty-nine not much has changed on planet Earth, though Voyager one has left the system recording sounds of Interstellar Space. Its batteries are running low but then other probes are on their way rest assure, they are not searching for you you’ve been forgotten long ago. Scientists still question whether indeed there is life on Mars, planning missions to get there we’ll leave in fifteen years or so. Some are drawing domes forsaking tragedy, creatively painting our escape. Mickey Mouse has packed his suitcase, left Minnie waiting in a bar. Modern telescopes point to discover exoplanets not too far, just in case, some residing habitable zones orbiting nearby stars. This is ground control I hear footsteps in the corridor, have to run will call you again until then I’ll keep taking care, of your Diamond Dogs.
0
Jan 12, 2018
Jan 12, 2018 at 8:49 AM UTC
Calling David
There's a storm in my teapot I accidentally let loose Now the geese are staying here for winter As the dog waits for a golden egg I'm finding ways to distract myself from the clothesline Where I used to hang your shirts The sun is boiling over in the *** Little children are dancing around the eye in a future I can never have Curl inbetween the pages of the book I have yet to write Moon whispering tiny secrets to me over breakfast when she should be asleep I get love letters from other habitable planets in my oven I never get a chance to read them Blame the stars and there infinite possibilities as you try to organize them on your spice rack Grandma will be here soon to show you how it's done With her practical magic
0
Apr 17, 2016
Apr 17, 2016 at 10:29 PM UTC
Universe in my Kitchen
It’s said He sees all, Your acts and even your thoughts, And scores how you perform Not for self but for others, Things you do To make this place more habitable, Words you speak That bring more solace than pain, Hands you touch That feel thrilled than shrunk, Eyes your eyes fall on Light up with hope. It’s also said, He sees all but is unmoved Because He can’t help it. The Good and the Bad Are both his making And he is part of both, So he can’t reward or punish, How can he, The One who has created A compartmentalized world?
0
May 6, 2013
May 6, 2013 at 4:12 AM UTC
The Omnipotent
I love it out here In the middle of grasslands and Old houses built on farms The sky's the limit out here The air is pure and just right Giving me crazy ideas about flying and living too Everything is clear You may pass 2 cars on the way into town Dilapidated houses and barns Scattered all about They may not be habitable But they still look homely to me I'd take this over the smog And smoke of the cities That make you choke Over the people tons and thousands of them That riddle you with claustrophobia And pretenses with hidden intentions I'd take the quiet loneliness over the inability to sleep due to noise inflictions Every. Single. Day. I would choose this breathtaking place
0
Mar 19, 2015
Mar 19, 2015 at 2:27 AM UTC
Breathing
Aquí, proa de Europa preñadamente en ***** aquí, talón sangrante del bárbaro Occidente; áspid en piedra viva, que el mar dispersa y junta; pánica Iberia, silo del sol, haza crujiente. Tremor de muerte, eterno tremor escarnecido, ávidamente orzaba la proa hacia otra vida, en tanto que el talón, en tierra entrometido, pisaba, horrible, el rostro de América adormida. ¡Santiago y cierra España! Derrostran con las uñas y con los dientes rezan a un Dios de infierno en ristre, encielan a sus muertos, entierran las pezuñas en la más ardua historia que la Historia registre. Alángeles y arcángeles se juntan contra el hombre. Y el hambre hace su presa, los túmulos su agosto. Tres años y cien caños de sangre Abel, sin nombre... (Insoportablemente terrible es su arregosto.) Madre y maestra mía, triste, espaciosa España, he aquí a tu hijo. Úngenos, madre. Haz habitable tu ámbito. Respirable tu extraña paz. Para el hombre, Paz. Para el aire, madre, paz.
0
591
Hija de yago