"isla" poems
#050916
Minulat tayong may sukli ng kasaysayan,
Saksi sa matinding gisahan ng rekado sa Tahanan.
Pangako'y iniukit ng mga Anak na payak
Nagbabasagan ng plato, nagtitilamsikang tubig,
Pagbili ng lakas ng loob
at talas ng dila sa Pulitikang Tindahan;
Luha't dangal, pawang huling hain
Ng Ama't Ina ng Lipunan.
Nakakangalay makisabay sa uso
Kung nawalay pati ang yupi-yuping puso.
Hindi tayo nagpaampon sa Lipunang mapanukso,
Yakap ang Langit, uhaw lamang sa pagbabago!
Sumisigaw ang damdaming nilusaw ang galit,
Ang pait ng kahapong sinabuyan ng panlalait.
Minsan, sobra ang demokrasya kaya't may kapalit.
Kaya't minsa'y susulong bagkus panay ang subalit.
Hindi natin kayang palayasin ang Ama't Ina,
Kung ngayon pa lang, may mga multong rebelde na.
Hindi natin kayang itaboy ang kamay ng Hari ng mga Isla,
Pagkat tayo'y ibinigkis, iba't iba man ang pananampalataya.
At higit pa sa pulso ng Bayan ang nagluklok sa kanila.
Mainam na ngang masaktan sa una,
Kung saan dunong at talino'y maituon sa pagpapakumbaba.
Masakit sa loob kapag tinatama ka,
At bawat palo't kusang pagdidisiplina.
Kung hindi susundin silang Ama't Ina,
Kung hindi magpapasakop sa babaguhing sistema,
Kung hindi huhubarin ang estadong may ibang klima,
Hinding-hindi bubuhos ang pagpapala.
Umaasa tayo pagkat di natin kayang mag-isa,
Sandigan nati'y hindi na Pulitikang Balisa,
Sana'y pag-iisip ay mabago ng Amang may grasya,
At tayo'y maging bahagi ng paghilom ng bansa.
May 12, 2016
May 12, 2016 at 11:57 AM UTC
My dog has died.
I buried him in the garden
next to a rusted old machine.
Some day I'll join him right there,
but now he's gone with his shaggy coat,
his bad manners and his cold nose,
and I, the materialist, who never believed
in any promised heaven in the sky
for any human being,
I believe in a heaven I'll never enter.
Yes, I believe in a heaven for all dogdom
where my dog waits for my arrival
waving his fan-like tail in friendship.
Ai, I'll not speak of sadness here on earth,
of having lost a companion
who was never servile.
His friendship for me, like that of a porcupine
withholding its authority,
was the friendship of a star, aloof,
with no more intimacy than was called for,
with no exaggerations:
he never climbed all over my clothes
filling me full of his hair or his mange,
he never rubbed up against my knee
like other dogs obsessed with ***
No, my dog used to gaze at me,
paying me the attention I need,
the attention required
to make a vain person like me understand
that, being a dog, he was wasting time,
but, with those eyes so much purer than mine,
he'd keep on gazing at me
with a look that reserved for me alone
all his sweet and shaggy life,
always near me, never troubling me,
and asking nothing.
Ai, how many times have I envied his tail
as we walked together on the shores of the sea
in the lonely winter of Isla Negra
where the wintering birds filled the sky
and my hairy dog was jumping about
full of the voltage of the sea's movement:
my wandering dog, sniffing away
with his golden tail held high,
face to face with the ocean's spray.
Joyful, joyful, joyful,
as only dogs know how to be happy
with only the autonomy
of their shameless spirit.
There are no good-byes for my dog who has died,
and we don't now and never did lie to each other.
So now he's gone and I buried him,
and that's all there is to it.
17.7k
061017
Hindi pa kita kayang harapin
Na sa bawat pagkakataong nariyan ka na'y
Pilit pa rin akong lilihis ng landas
Habang kinakalma ang sarili ng mga salitang:
"Wala kang nakita.
Ayos ka lang."
Sa ilang beses kong pagpapalipas ng oras
Sa paglimot sa pagbungad ng kahapon sa ngayon,
Ginapi ako ng pasa sa buo kong pagkatao.
Namanhid ang puso,
Kakaiba ang hiwaga pagkat nabuhay pa rin ako.
Nang sa kahit isang saglit man lang
Ay nanatili pa rin akong pipi ngunit hindi bingi
Na parang nalimot ko na kung paano bang magsalita
Ngunit ako'y inugatan na
Sa paghihintay sa sagot na sayo lamang hinihingi.
Na para bang noon,
Ang lahat ay may bayad.
Parang lahat ay bawal,
Kaya nagnakaw ako ng tingin sayo.
Oo, hindi lang isang beses
O dalawa, tatlo, apat, lima,
Anim, pito, walo, siyam at sampu.
Naubos na ang pagbilang ko sa bawat sandali,
Na inabot sa iilang taon --
Hindi ka pa rin bumabalik.
Doon ko kusang naintindihang:
Kalakip ng bawat pagnakaw ng panahon
Ay ang bawat bitak sa pusong noo'y wala pang lamat.
Napuno ito ng alikabok sa hindi ko pagsisiyasat
Kung may buhay at pag-asa pa bang mabuo
ang larawan ng tayo.
Na sa bawat pagpunit ko ng bawat larawan sa aking isipa'y
Paulit-ulit lamang akong nakakatikim ng pagkatalo.
At sa huli, ako rin pala ang darampot sa mga ito
At isa-isang ipagtatagpi sa kabila ng matinding pagkapagod.
Nang ilang beses akong dumistansya sayo
Isang dipa, isang kilometro,
Ilang munisipyo at ilang mga isla.
Bagamat nagtangka pa rin akong
Bumusina ng katapatan sa pintong paulit-ulit **** pinagsasarhan.
Nang muling mabahiran ng kakaibang ningning
Ang aking mga mata
Na tila may mahika ang bawat **** ngiti
At muling nagkakulay ang puso kong dating kaydilim.
Nang mapagtanto ko ngang: hindi kita nakalimutan,
Hindi ako nagmahal ng iba,
Naghintay ako --
Kahit may iba ka pa.
Dumungaw ako sa ngayon
At dito ko nasaksihan ang hiwaga ng paghihintay.
Na sa pag-aakala kong paulit-ulit ang nasa kalendaryo'y
Mauubusan din pala ako ng dahilan --
Dahilan para magtanong kung babalik ka nga ba.
Nang mahalin mo na rin ako nang buo
Nang kusa **** ibigay ang tiwala at katapatan mo.
At sa minsang pagyakap mo'y
Gusto ko na munang huminto
At magpasalamat pagkat narito na ang sagot --
Pagkat narito ka na at hindi na ito isang panaginip.
Na hindi ko maipaliwanag na ikaw ang dahilan
Ng bawat butil sa mga mata ko noon.
At ang dahilan
Ng bawat kirot na mas maingay pa sa mga kuliglig pag gabi
At pilit kong pinatatahimik sa aking pagtulog.
Parang kailan lang nga --
Pero ayoko nang magkunwari pa
Ayoko nang magtago sa madilim na mga ulap
Na pilit na kumukubli sa pag-ibig ko sayo.
Tama na, pagkat nahulog ako sa sarili kong patibong
At ngayon --
Ngayon nga'y mas mahal na kita.
Jun 10, 2017
Jun 10, 2017 at 9:23 AM UTC
Ríete de la noche,
Pagtawanan mo ang gabi,
Laugh at the night,
del día, de la luna,
ang araw, ang buwan,
at the day, at the moon,
ríete de las calles
torcidas de la isla,
*pagtawanan mo ang liku-likong
landas sa isla,*
**laugh at the twisted
streets of the island,**
ríete de este torpe
muchacho que te quiere,
*pagtawanan mo ang torpeng
lalaking ito na nagmamahal sa iyo,*
**laugh at this clumsy
boy who loves you,**
pero cuando yo abro
los ojos y los cierro,
*ngunit kapag bubuksan at
isasara ko ang aking mga mata,*
**but when I open
my eyes and close them,**
cuando mis pasos van,
kapag ako ay umalis,
when my steps go,
cuando vuelven mis pasos,
kapag ako ay muling bumalik,
when my steps return,
niégame el pan, el aire,
la luz, la primavera
ipagkait mo na sa akin ang tinapay, ang hangin, ang liwanag at ang tagsibol,
**deny me bread, air,
light, spring,**
pero tu risa nunca
porque me moriría.
*wag lamang ang iyong mga ngiti
dahil ito ay aking ikasasawi.*
**but never your laughter
for I would die.**
Sep 4, 2015
Sep 4, 2015 at 3:39 PM UTC
isang musmos na lahi
isang munting nasyon
parang itinanim na buto
itinakdang
sumibol at lumago
sa paglaon ng panahon
nag-aabang, naghihintay
puno nang sabik
pero kay tagal dumating
tayo ay nainip
tadhana nating tagumpay
kailan kaya makakamit
kasi
apat na raang taon
hanggang ngayon
lulong pa rin sa putik
nangangapa, nadadapa sa dilim
mga butong nanginginig sa lamig
mga isla
pitong libong isang daan at pito
ito
ang ating lupang sinilagan,
tahanan ng ating lahi
pero nga bahay ba ito o burol?
mga pangarap na
masilayan ang mga sinag ng araw at
mahagkan ang malayang langit
mananatili lang bang panaginip dito
sa bayang natutulog
o kaya namang natutulog lang kunwari
tanggapin mo na lang na
humikbi, humagulgol,
ibuhos mo man ang iyong luha
walang darating
kumayod ka man at magdamag magsikap
diligan mo man ang lupa ng pawis
wala
pa ring mangyayari
kasi
dugo
dugo lamang na dumaloy
mula sa mga palad ni Hesukristo
kung ang Kanyang pag-ibig ay
babaha sa lupa
ng parang delubyo
ito ang nag-iisang paraan
ang nag-iisang sagot:
dugo
dugo lamang na ibinuhos
ang tanging
makakatubos
makakaahon
makakaligtas
sa atin
Mar 22, 2015
Mar 22, 2015 at 7:46 AM UTC
Ilang buwan na ang lumipas
Nang gisingin ako ng agos ng tubig sa dalampasigan
Puti ang buhangin
At kumakapit sa kayumanggi kong mga balat
Ang halik ng Haring Araw.
Laking-gulat ng lahat nang anurin ako
Ng napakalakas na hangin patungo sa Isla
At doon bumungad sa akin ang Pitong Karagatang
Mitsa ng aking pagbangon sa kasalukuyan.
Naghilamos ako sa maalat na tubig
At doo’y naging kakulay ko ang kanilang lahi
At inangkin nila ako
Gaya ng isang parte ng isang pamilya.
Bumukod ako sa pag-aakalang iba ako at iba sila
Hanggang sa ang ako ay para sa kanila pala
Nagbunga ang pagbuhos ng Langit ng kanyang kasiguraduhan
At doon ako'y hindi na isang dayuhan
At alipin ninuman.
Kinuha ko ang kurtina sa aking bintana
At tinapon ko sa aking likuran
Kasabay ng paniniwala kong babalik ang Araw
At ako'y muling aagusin ng napakalakas na alon kagaya noon
At sana --
Sana nga makabalik na ako
Sa aming tahana'y
Babalik na ako.
Mar 11, 2018
Mar 11, 2018 at 9:31 AM UTC
ako'y pupungas-pungas
ngunit pinili ang mata'y isarado
pinilit matulog, nagbabakasakaling
ang payapang panagip ay bumalik;
ako'y nasa lugar na nais
sa lugar na lahat ay tunay,
sa lugar kung saan walang madla,
sa lugar na malaya at walang nakakakita ng tunay na nadarama
sa likod ng ngiting pinapakita.
nakaupo sa pino
ngunit puting buhangin,
pinagmamasdan ang tulog na ulap
sa likod ng mga kumikinang na bituin,
at pinapakinggan ang tila walang sigla
na hampas ng alon sa dalampasigan
isip ko'y binabaha
ng mga salitang hindi mailabas,
sa tahimik na lugar na nais
nagtanong sa sarili,
"mayroon pa bang saysay
itong buhay na walang halaga?"
Feb 12, 2019
Feb 12, 2019 at 1:02 AM UTC
Mi perro ha muerto.
Lo enterré en el jardín
junto a una vieja máquina oxidada.
Allí, no más abajo,
ni más arriba,
se juntará conmigo alguna vez.
Ahora él ya se fue con su pelaje,
su mala educación, su nariz iría.
Y yo, materialista que no cree
en el celeste cielo prometido
para ningún humano,
para este perro o para todo perro
creo en el cielo, sí, creo en un cielo
donde yo no entraré, pero él me espera
ondulando su cola de abanico
para que yo al llegar tenga amistades.
Ay no diré la tristeza en la tierra
de no tenerlo más por compañero,
que para mí jamás fue un servidor.
Tuvo hacia mí la amistad de un erizo
que conservaba su soberanía,
la amistad de una estrella independienre
sin más intimidad que la precisa,
sin exageraciones:
no se trepaba sobre mi vestuario
llenándome de pelos o de sarna,
no se frotaba contra mi rodilla
como otros perros obsesos sexuales.
No, mi perro me miraba
dándome la atención que necesito,
la atención necesaria
para hacer comprender a un vanidoso
que siendo perro él,
con esos ojos, más puros que los míos,
perdía el tiempo, pero me miraba
con la mirada que me reservó
toda su dulce, su peluda vida,
su silenciosa vida,
cerca de mí, sin molestarme nunca,
y sin pedirme nada.
Ay cuántas veces quise tener cola
andando junto a él por las orillas
del mar, en el invierno de Isla Negra,
en la gran soledad: arriba el aire
traspasado de pájaros glaciales,
y mi perro brincando, hirsuto, lleno
de voltaje marino en movimiento:
mi perro vagabundo y olfatorio
enarbolando su cola dorada
frente a frente al Océano y su espuma.
Alegre, alegre, alegre
como los perros saben ser felices,
sin nada más, con el absolutismo
de la naturaleza descarada.
No hay adiós a mi perro que se ha muerco.
Y no hay ni hubo mentira entre nosotros.
Ya se fue y lo enterré, y eso era todo.
2.2k
Tinawid ko ang karagatan,
binaybay din ang Kabisayaan.
Mula sa hilaga, sa Katagalugan,
mahanap ko lang ang katotohanan.
At makita ko lamang ang kasagutan,
malasap lang ang angkin nitong tabáng.
'Di lang karagatan ang handa kong tawirin,
mga ilog na may buwaya rin, aking giliw.
Makita ko lang sa'yong mata ang saliw
at dampi ng aking nadaramang sakit.
Babaybayin ang buong bayan at isla,
bibilangin ko ang bawat mga tala.
Lilibutin ko ang kabundukan,
lilituhin ating kapalaran.
May 31, 2024
May 31, 2024 at 4:44 AM UTC
En la mañana sale el sol,
despertamos con una ilusión,
ver a nuestra isla ser una nación,
lucharemos por nuestra tierra después de la puesta del sol.
Ya es de noche, reina la oscuridad,
vestidos de negros, jamás nos verán,
con las sombras nos confundirán
y cuando menos lo esperan muy tarde será,
porque ya pronto tendremos nuestra libertad.
Mi pueblo está cansado de ser oprimido,
y ustedes invasores pagarán por lo que ha sucedido,
nuestra tierra la han destruido
pero de nuestro corazón se siente un latido,
aún no estamos en el olvido.
Nuestra cultura quisiste eliminar,
pero la mancha de plátano es difícil de borrar,
armados con fusiles y machetes iremos a luchar,
y en esta noche la muerte de Filiberto y Albizu vamos a vengar,
ya pronto la supremacía americana va a terminar,
por fin mi pueblo podrá respirar.
Escrito por: Yamil Rosario Vázquez (16-feb-2012)
Este poema es dedicado a todas las personas que en sus vidas han puesto un granito de arena para lograr la independencia de Puerto Rico, y a aquellos que han muerto luchando por ella.
En especial a:
Pedro Albizu Campos, Filiberto Ojeda Ríos, Ramón Emeterio Betances, y los a los estudiantes de la Universidad de Puerto Rico recinto de Río Piedras.
Feb 18, 2012
Feb 18, 2012 at 4:59 PM UTC
My body is a tropical island
Full of wonders, views are grand
A spectacle of various rare terrains,
overwhelming for the unadventurous
and exhausting for the meager brains.
My body boasts of all the different
exotic textures and new colors,
something your waiting eyes
must be ready to marvel at.
My body takes pride in its
mountain-like curves;
not exactly the perfect shapes
but awe-inspiring, like a painting.
Something your anticipating hands
has to feel thrilled to touch.
However, my body is also known
for its extraordinary yet abrupt movements;
scary for most and sensual for some.
Like earthquakes and typhoons,
you'll never know when the rhythms come.
Something your foreign familiarity
would either be thrilled or petrified about.
So I welcome you to this island of mine,
leave your worries back to the shores,
clear your soul and free your mind.
Leave you exhilarated and in monsoon,
my rainforest flora forever in bloom.
Aug 29, 2022
Aug 29, 2022 at 1:24 PM UTC
Strawberries
*that tumble off grocery stands
of dusty wood-colored plastic
wiped clean with rank rags dripping ***** water
and a hint of bleach
to **** germs.*
Covered in dripping red
*gooey sweet syrup
that resembles sour sauce
of lo mein Chinese restaurants,
but encapsulates all feelings
to nerve tinglings
and lick chops to swallow drowned.*
Atop a table
*tuckered in the corner
next to borrowed chairs
that mismatch from three to one
and darkened grain and pale wheat
with a broken leg
that will one day topple to the floor.*
Retching from inhalation
*as breath stops short
lungs rejecting air
from the path of recycle-ment
like tossing used paper bowls
into foundations for isla de debris.*
Enlightenment of the general mood
*from stumbled laughter
into an inception loop
of spinning tops and trading card games
into a never ending bubble stream
like a train braking
and go to rest.*
Dead like a corpse
*as in sleep like the departed
where nothing can be bothered
except the alarm for tomorrow.*
Because I am scared,
for the shadow of despair,
that will rise as a lion's roar,
to claim the title "king,"
and rain down sorrow,
before the lamed warrior can raise a piece,
or a scholar a pipe,
to ward away evil,
and purify with ceremonious smoke.
Mar 16, 2013
Mar 16, 2013 at 1:57 AM UTC
Abstract blond's reality turned abstract Roma;
Beat women win over scientists' flaming fingerprints
weapon origins feminine economic women wearing
lace knee breeches; violence desert yeh, Satan swallows
their bottom winds tiny tournament witch sight poor,
saints poor, skin thin, her widescreen walking;
Jewish teens drinking spirits began to spread a blanket
and take down the facts on audio as entertainment
******* wet track Gothic love gig moves to cool,
cool foreign watch is simply corporate leaves & sunny socks,
an opposite example of a system,
sitting dead, hey, no back after meeting
live streets strange **** workout
for the goddesses never pointing out porn's bar porridge -At Tina's,
laptops are rare medicinal parts, non-invisible ******
invisible football; We can imagine a straight pid...
Isaiah 4:1 King James Version (KJV) 4 [ ];
And in that day seven women
shall take hold of one man, saying,
We will eat our own bread,
and wear our own apparel:
only let us be called by thy name,
to take away our reproach.
blonde bright abstract astonished
Rome beat older women scientists
flaming fingers hairy economic
girls *** dawn violence knee
desert Yeh! Satan kissing winds
witch competition thin low tone
slim vision poor saints skin La
Isla teens Jewish wide discernment
drank spirited starter planet;
super good dug wet track meat
wolf love moves to watch
just the company of alien cool faces,
for example, the system is wet socks
sitting drying they do not belong on
the counter; on the street lived a strange
***** Iodine without the goddess, u
can also show porn's semiconductor
*** to the elderly as rare medicines;
parts invisible football, ******
looking there, I was able Imagine
| a straight *****
Oct 16, 2018
Oct 16, 2018 at 8:41 AM UTC
I hope you know that this is foreign land.
I hope you know that when the men and women of home told me,
“You are a fool to dream”, I grew to despise their voices.
That when they told me travel was ludicrous, black was sin, and I a devil because I was a 12 year old autistic child,
I grew to despise their land.
It was not my land, I’d say. It was theirs. It was their rotting green, their putrid sand, La Isla Del Encanto.
I hope you know that this is foreign land.
I hope you know that when I left the Island, I left that house.
It was all I knew; the house, el pueblo. The men who saw me with hungry eyes. The moriviví sprouting from the wood. The church whose women scorned me.
The grave my father slept in.
I hope you know it was a terrible thing, the bone thrown at me, the thing I had to eat because nobody knew to give me meat.
Marrow. The only love I’ve ever known.
You must know. This is foreign land.
This place you call free, this place with flag blood-stained and heavy.
This place I cannot seem to breathe in, where I cannot sit without first buying coffee even if my voice cannot come out, where my head is wanted because my mind is a darkened white, my skin is muddied by race, my eyes are black, black like your wood deer and owl– and I hear the voices of the men and women from home who learned from the white man to say— black is sin.
My skin was made to be loved by the sun, my nails were grown from the bark of the tree en los montes. I am carved from the stories my teacher told me of los Taínos, and slashed with the lesson that Cristobal Colón was a man to be celebrated.
I hope you know your land is foreign.
I hope you know your flag is bloodied.
I hope you know that when I stand on your soil, my body knows
it is not free.
May 18, 2019
May 18, 2019 at 4:13 PM UTC
Isla Vista
twisted you
like a warped Twizzler.
You miss her,
but the Xanex and K-pins,
the fifth of gin
that brought you to your knees,
spinning in the throws
of ODing,
kills everyone,
not just yourself.
Maybe your first breath
after being an inch from death
tasted brand new,
I can only hope
that support from us all
will keep another bottle of pills
from disappearing
down
your
throat
.
Aug 15, 2013
Aug 15, 2013 at 1:08 PM UTC
POEM 37 (Inside Your Heart)
A man can tell
a thousand lies
and never blink.
But I say this:
my truth lies within
the bold sensitivities
of your beating heart.
Look inside and you
will feel the touch
of my warm lips
and know that,
like Neruda’s Isla Negra,
and its coconut sands,
I will carry you in my heart
and yearn for
“a thousand kisses deep”.
Aztec Warrior 8.2.15
(Note: must give credit to Poetessa,
as her poem on Leonard Cohen
chased me to hear him read his poem “A
Thousand Kisses Deep”. Hauntingly beautiful.)
Aug 3, 2015
Aug 3, 2015 at 4:14 PM UTC
¡Oh! No, nunca deberían hablar de Puerto Rico
Borinquén, Porto Rico de una manera tan malvada
Puerto Rico nada en el mar Caribe y el Océano Atlántico
Con otras bellas islas como Cuba, Haití y Jamaica
Puerto Rico es un hermoso archipiélago caribeño
Con altas montañas. ¡Oh! Sí, maravilloso Puerto Rico
Tiene un cielo azul y blanco perfecto, bosques tropicales
Playas de agua cristalina, y es una de las mejores
Puerto Rico nunca puede ser 'una isla flotante de basura'
Es hermosa con mucho potencial. En esta época
Algunos payasos o comediantes locos deben tener muchos nervios
Para insultar a una Boricua tan dulce con una población amistosa
Iré a Puerto Rico pronto a buscar a mi bella Santa
Mi Alma, mi Reina. Voy a convertirme en artista para pintar
La sonrisa de esta isla paradisíaca. Borinquén querida, mi amor
Javier Solís tiene razón. Eres la tierra de los sueños, mi amor
Nadie puede empañar tu imagen. Te visitaré pronto
Con lindos sueños en mi corazón y con una cuchara de plata
Para poder disfrutar de tu cocina y empaparme de tu cóctel tropical
Mientras me sumerjo en los ojos de mi deslumbrante y **** ángel
Nuestro Puerto Rico es una isla mitológica para soñadores
Nuestro Puerto Rico es un archipiélago tropical para enamorados.
PD Traducción de ‘ Our Puerto Rico’ en español.
Copyright © Noviembre 2024, Hébert Logerie, Todos los derechos reservados.
Hébert Logerie es autor de numerosos poemarios.
Nov 5, 2024
Nov 5, 2024 at 6:54 PM UTC
Storm clouds raged across the sky and the silver sea boiled in the wind.
The great green fin of La Isla de Tiburon cut the water,
Mysterious, so painfully close, yet dangerously distant.
Monsters swam the gap and past waist deep the ocean had a lethal tug.
All morning we (father, big brother, little sister, and me) hunted in the sand for clams and later boiled them in a sardine can.
Dad ran along the shoreline and into the waves wearing yellow trunks, hunting with a sharpened stick.
Dad, the Wildman —hairy and shirtless—ran for our entertainment into the surf and whooped when a skate flapped pitifully at the end of his spear.
My brother kicked a trio of ***** fishermen's gifts, kept them from scuttling back into sea, and leaped over them for fun.
Sardines on saltines tided us over as the main course—crab, clam and skate—cooked on burning drift wood.
We children watched in drooling anticipation as a claw, wreathed in flame rose in agonized supplication
then collapsed back into embers to cook. Froth bubbled out alien mouths and black stalk eyes.
Roasted alive seems an awful fate, but, oh, how delicious the meat!
Later, by lantern light my sister read her book over the protests of a gathering wind that scratched at our tent all night.
The sand spat out the tent stakes, but the poles held firm and our weight held our shelter down.
Never before and never again
I live here in my dreams.
Jul 15, 2015
Jul 15, 2015 at 12:11 AM UTC
Hay una noche,
un tiempo hueco, sin testigos,
una noche de uñas y silencio,
páramo sin orillas,
isla de yelo entre los días;
una noche sin nadie
sino su soledad multiplicada.
Se regresa de unos labios
nocturnos, fluviales,
lentas orillas de coral y savia,
de un deseo, erguido
como la flor bajo la lluvia, insomne
collar de fuego al cuello de la noche,
o se regresa de uno mismo a uno mismo,
y entre espejos impávidos un rostro
me repite a mi rostro, un rostro
que enmascara a mi rostro.
Frente a los juegos fatuos del espejo
mi ser es pira y es ceniza,
respira y es ceniza,
y ardo y me quemo y resplandezco y miento
un yo que empuña, muerto,
una daga de humo que le finge
la evidencia de sangre de la herida,
y un yo, mi yo penúltimo,
que sólo pide olvido, sombra, nada,
final mentira que lo enciende y quema.
De una máscara a otra
hay siempre un yo penúltimo que pide.
Y me hundo en mí mismo y no me toco.
1.1k
My beautiful, darling, angelic Isla.
My heart is crying a thousand oceans tonight, and it will for days, weeks, months and years I am sure. For over 12 years you were one of my best friends.
Not a day passed when you did not ask after me, support me, or love me.
If the heavens could ask for a perfect friend, they would choose you.
In all those years we never once fought or argued.
You were only ever the strength that completed my need for a back bone, which enabled us ultimately to both get through and fight through life.
To know, as with Elin, you have taken your life, I bleed for you. I ache. The pain is so deeply embedded in my chest that I find myself gasping to even breathe.
I will probably write to you a million times over, knowing that in your place of safety you are talking back at me, sitting by me, answering my prayers.
I am beyond devastated you took your life, one so young, and yet I also know that, despite endless fighting, your demons would not rest. That was never your fault. Your past was never your choice or fault. I love you with all that I am, and I know, every day, you are with me.
I feel you here as the tears hit my cheeks and drip on to the keyboard.
I could never replace you, change you, or ask more of you.
Thank you.
Thank you for gracing my life and saving my life, many times over.
How will I be without you my darling… with me. With me. That I know. I love you, and may you rest in safety, security and love.
All the things you so desperately craved from this world so cruel to you.
Rest in peace princess.
© Sia Jane
Sep 14, 2013
Sep 14, 2013 at 7:01 PM UTC
Busalan mo pa!
Nang manahimik
ang mga sumisigaw--
Pilit inaalingawngaw
ang nag-uumapaw
nilang mga hinanakit
Matagal nang umalis ang Diyos
dahil sa mga panatikong
Sinasamba ang kanilang Poong
iniidolo rin ang isa pang
anak ni Satanas
Kasama ang kanyang
mga apostol
Hudas sa taumbayan
Busalan mo pa---
Ang iyak ng sanggol,
nanghihingi ng pagkain
Ang ungol ng babaeng
pinuputa sa tabi-tabi
Ang hikbi ng magsasakang
mamamatay na lang
hindi pa sa sarili
niyang lupa
Ang tangis ng manggagawang
tinapon matapos
Malaos
Na parang
Makina lang sa pabrika
Sige patahimikin mo!
Tutal katutahan
At kaputahan
At kaputanginahan
ang doktrinang
isinisiwalat mo
Na parang hindi mulat
at wala sa ulirat
ang mga panatikong
Sumusunod
Sa bawat buklat
ng bibliya
Lalong pumupula
ang paligid;
Kitakita na lang sa bilibid
kung umabot pa
ang bangkay
ng nag-ingay
Sige langoy!
Hindi man sa dagat ng basura;
Pero sa dagat
ng dugong dumanak
ng mga pinaslang
ng bibliyang
ginamit mo
para umaalipusta
Sa nanghihingi ng kalinga;
Sisid sa kailaliman
nang malaman mo
Ang kadiliman
ng kaibuturan
ng bituka
**** halang
Sige gamitin mo
ang bibliya--
Ipangalandakang sugo ka!
Panginoong namimigay
ng lupa
Panginoong may-lupa
namimigay
Hindi sa hindi makatayo
hindi makaupo
maghapong nakayuko
Kundi sa pulang watawat
na may limang dilaw na bituin
marikit na kumikinang
Habang unti unti nitong
nilalamon ang bawat isla
bawat industriya
Idagdag sa kanilang makina
na may nabubulok na sistema
Hanggang sa wala nang matira;
Hanggang sa ang perlas
Ng silanganan
Ay tuluyan nang
Malaspag
Na parang isang puta
Jul 4, 2020
Jul 4, 2020 at 6:12 AM UTC
*tengo miedo de escribir
a veces yo tambien
tengo miedo
de un papel vacío
de esta manera todo parece claro
no sé expresarme
este sentimiento de un náufrago
tengo miedo de estar perdido
demasiado
hay estas dudas
tantas dudas como horas
tengo miedo de hacer lo errado?
pero tengo que
eligir, eligir entre dos
los ángeles y demonios
luchan, de formas crueles
los demonios y ángeles
entonces no quieren.. mi paz?
en un papel vacío
de repente todo parece claro
no sé expresarme
y me doy cuenta de que es el tiempo
del deseo de certeza
porque no puede vivir en miedo
escuchando a las peleas interminables
debido al blanco y *****
no más puedo vivir*
Jan 30, 2015
Jan 30, 2015 at 7:26 PM UTC
desnudo
es algo mágico
al estarlo contigo
me vuelvo fanatico
de tu cinturita cresente,
de tus labios color fresa,
del universo en tus ojos,
tus viñas de trenzas color tabaco como la que crece en Viñales
y como fluyen en el viento,
hasta de tu frente y como me dice
cómo te sientes en realidad.
muestrame,
demuéstrame todito cariño.
al beber tu néctar me acuerdo
de los palos de parcha de mi isla,
una fragancia agridulce que me deja adicto,
que me refresca y al mismo tiempo
deja con sed.
tu espina dorsal transmitiendo una fuerza estable
pero aun asi muy dulce
como el azúcar de caña en los terrenos del monte en San Germán.
que rico,
que calentito este amor,
como el olor de la panadería a las 7:05 de la mañana,
todas las mañanas,
que rica y consistente eres amor.
tu piel café,
que cambia como el clima al agarrar sol,
la playa y sus olas quitandote la toxina del tequila,
el color aquamarina abrazandote tan bien
que sonríes y me pongo medio celoso.
aveces me dejas sin razonamiento,
pero me apasionas con tu voz,
cantando pasiones personales,
ideología similar a mi,
substancia genuina,
como si la radio está tocando la nueva de Maná.
oye mi amor.
no me digas que no.
ando aqui,
en el agua,
deseándote.
esta atadura, esta conexión,
revelada aún más,
al ritmo de yo verte
desnudar.
-melancholicreator
Apr 16, 2024
Apr 16, 2024 at 11:22 AM UTC
¿Fue en las islas de las rosas,
en el país de los sueños,
en donde hay niños risueños
y enjambre de mariposas?
Quizá.
En sus grutas doradas,
con sus diademas de oro,
allí estaban, como un coro
de reinas, todas las hadas.
Las que tienen prisioneros
a los silfos de la luz,
las que andan con un capuz
salpicado de luceros.
Las que mantos de escarlata
lucen con regio donaire,
y las que hienden el aire
con su varita de plata.
¿Era día o noche?
El astro
de la niebla sobre el tul,
florecía en campo azul
como un lirio de alabastro.
Su peplo de oro la incierta
alba ya había tendido.
Era la hora en que en su nido
toda alondra se despierta.
Temblaba el limpio cristal
del rocío de la noche,
y estaba entreabierto el broche
de la flor primaveral.
Y en aquella región que era
de la luz y la fortuna,
cantaban un himno, a una,
ave, aurora y primavera.
Las hadas -aquella tropa
brillante-, Delia, que he dicho,
por un extraño capricho
fabricaron una copa.
Rara, bella, sin igual,
y tan pura como bella,
pues aún no ha bebido en ella
ninguna boca mortal.
De una azucena gentil
hicieron el cáliz leve,
que era de polvo de nieve
y palidez de marfil.
Y la base fue formada
con un trémulo suspiro,
de reflejos de zafiro
y de luz cristalizada.
La copa hecha se pensó
en qué se pondría en ella
(que es el todo, niña bella,
de lo que te cuento yo).
Una dijo: -La ilusión;
otra dijo: -La belleza;
otra dijo: -La riqueza;
y otra más: -El corazón.
La Reina Mab, que es discreta,
dijo a la espléndida tropa:
-Que se ponga en esa copa
la felicidad completa.
Y cuando habló Reina tal,
produjo aplausos y asombros.
Llevaba sobre sus hombros
su soberbio manto real.
Dejó caer la divina
Reina de acento sonoro,
algo como gotas de oro
de una flauta cristalina.
Ya la Reina Mab habló;
cesó su olímpico gesto,
y las hadas tanto han puesto
que la copa se llenó.
Amor, delicia, verdad,
dicha, esplendor y riqueza,
fe, poderío, belleza...
¡Toda la felicidad!...
Y esta copa se guardó
pura, sola, inmaculada.
¿Dónde?
En una isla ignorada.
¿De dónde?
¡Se me olvidó!...
¿Fue en las islas de las rosas,
en el país de los sueños,
en donde hay niños risueños
y enjambres de mariposas? Esto nada importa aquí,
pues por decirte escribía
que esta copa, niña mía,
la deseo para ti.
1.1k