"valdivia" poems
I heard the great tumult of noise,
Ranging from the hills of Troy,
I head Amnon’s earnest whispering,
At the banquet of the king.
I saw the stark white midnight sun,
Blind Edward John Smith on his run,
I saw John Franklin not think twice,
Before he too was claimed by ice.
I was there the fateful day,
That earth and fire claimed Pompeii,
I was there as horizons shook,
And the sand Valdivia took.
I felt Isolde’s deep pain forlorn,
As Tristan from her side was torn
I felt Young Werther try in vain,
With love in heart but lead in brain.
Yet knowing grand calamity,
I sought naught but serenity.
Longing for love, as life depends.
My suit is cold, as so my end.
Aug 30, 2010
Aug 30, 2010 at 4:14 PM UTC
Yet in the plane, a bitter taste in my mouth, my heart beat risen,
everything getting even worse -- the feeling of escaping.
Escape to know a whole new world,
from leaving my dusty country boots,
changing my culture, language, sceneries, people
but mostly, taking off the mask of a girl and changing it for a woman's.
A woman without parents, friends, siblings,
A woman alone in the big apple.
I left my little South American city, Valdivia,
arrived to the world's cosmopolitan capital.
I changed my rural roads, covered in dust
for streets with thousands of modern vehicles.
The wooden houses were now impressive buildings,
and the echo of a flummox 2009
got sometimes confused with millions of voices, accents,
faces, skin colors, souls.
It was a year spent in the most popular city
where countries around the world meet as brothers
where avenues separate china from Italy
and where a huge park looked like home.
For a whole year green trees were changed for green signs,
People -- walking souls -- always in a rush
It was New York the city where my memories were left
and it is Valdivia were I bring them back.
Oct 9, 2010
Oct 9, 2010 at 6:17 PM UTC
It came to me again the other day & sprawled itself across my skin,
trembling like a Richter Scale,
The Great Valdivia Earthquake,
blurred my vision,
slicked my tongue,
sharpened my teeth,
I felt it give out beneath my feet.
Aug 26, 2016
Aug 26, 2016 at 1:20 PM UTC
Nora
Nora stands in the streets,
Nora befriends Patrick,
She tries to defy David,
In red lipstick she is unique,
She cares for her son Nick.
She is from the red light street,
She usually wears ripped jeans,
She waits for her ‘king’
For Nick she buys jelly beans,
She cooks plain beans,
For “love night” he phone rings!!
Nora is compelled to vie Maria,
She loves to share food with Paloma,
Together they discuss erotica,
They want a trip in Valdivia,
They desire to pray in Hajia Sofia.
They are girly girls,
They don’t like to stand against the walls.
Nora adorns herself in red,
She loves to stand in shades,
She seems savory like ‘milk made’
She is just time’s puppet;
She doesn’t love to unzip her jacket,
She wants to imprison the racket!
She is a container of confetti,
She hates to stand against graffiti,
People falsely call her “pretty”
Nora is really needy,
She isn’t a roadside candy,
Still, people see her as a wild berry!
Nora’s long hair is denser,
Her lips are sensuous,
She wears pink n’ purple,
She charms the paupers,
She helps Dora fixing the braid-flowers,
She hates the aroma of fresheners.
All she does for her toddler,
To her, life is a closed condenser,
She loves Julie like own sister,
She waits for lost love Oliver,
She allures people with winged eyeliner.
Nora is destiny’s preserver,
Every night, she kills her customers,
Being a mental slayer!!
Apr 22, 2018
Apr 22, 2018 at 10:58 AM UTC