October 2012
1 post
Traducciones en camino
Traducciones de varios poemas de inglés al español. Y algunos del español al inglés, supongo.
September 2012
9 posts
2 tags
Pick your favorites
Pick your favorite poems on this collection. I want to shape them up into something nice.
Elijan sus poemas favoritos de este tumblr, que quiero tallerearlos.
4 tags
#100: Rayuela
…la armonía duraba increíblemente, no había palabras para contestar a la bondad de esos dos ahí abajo, mirándole y hablándole desde la rayuela…
-Julio Cortázar, Rayuela
Sí, a ustedes les hablo,
si es que han leído esto,
a ti que buscas el nombre en el 91
y a ti con la cabeza metida en el 5
(no te culpo si no quieres volver)
no sé en qué orden hayan leído,
pero aquí se cuenta una...
4 tags
#99: Cannot finish this without writing an...
Everlasting in my mind, a
Dreamboy made a man
Who haunts the wedding dreams
I really never have for then I would ask
No one else but you.
Vain and little fantasy of this girl,
Anachronic desire for a hero who eventually became
Nothing but irreplaceable. I wished and said
“Don’t go.” But you made up your mind.
Eternity was already your path, any other way.
Royalty of a...
4 tags
#98: Blood on the Tracks
As I live and breathe You have killed me You have killed me Yes I walk around somehow But you have killed me You have killed me And there is no point saying this again there is no point saying this again But I forgive you, I forgive you Always I do forgive you.
-Morrissey, “You Have Killed Me”
Unfleshed for the silence turned a knife
took me away and doomed me into this nothing:
I...
3 tags
#97: Last Will
Deathbed wish, it says.
Hanging like a neon sign upon me,
the slight urgency of life before it’s swallowed
by everything we are and by our watches.
The taking, the holding
and everything is last year
and the pages of days you wrote and solved
with my life enthroned there as a hope beam.
If time could be a place I would chose that,
the tangling of my life between your arms,
the...
3 tags
#96: Sitting on a Bench
I had seen you as a nothing that could go away,
but chance gave us a finite, sweet connection.
It was nothing about love, but it was something
I could recognize from myself. You asked to send a text.
I could imagine you, day after day, waiting for your family
to come. Memorizing the other side of the road,
until it became invisible from customary sightseeing.
Form a path so nobody can see...
3 tags
#95: Iron Maiden
My mother wants me to become Margaret Thatcher.
My grandmother thinks otherwise. I am barren and birthless
in her eyes. She loves the perpetuation of the species.
She longs for a wedding that never happened,
for dresses, white. I am a strange accessory,
a silent statue sitting with a book and watchful
in a corner. She wishes I could marry a prince.
I’m a faded mirage of a fairytale,
...
3 tags
#94: Stuck
Bore me with the incessant image of your past,
with no dreams, with your small sighs
of nice commodity. With your reruns of a life
and a strangled wish in tears. With your smiles
headed behind to your nape and your hair.
I can take my ridicule, my laughter to myself,
into something like tomorrow, rotten, but unknown.
3 tags
#93: Blue Moon Ritual
Papers burning and there I could see my words.
They were written as in a trance, and as they burned,
I could see my dreams turned into ashes.
But there was a heart of a flame inside,
there, tossing and turning like a neon light,
vivid orange, rockstar, tasting with tongue kisses
my life, killing it to make it real in years to come.
August 2012
30 posts
3 tags
#92: Brighter Days
The day should have shone with the spirit of—something.
Should have had the magic of you gliding like the jasmine mind,
It should have yelled in the face of life like a rebel,
Should have had something more besides the morning
bread and butter. The letters that never came, and the ones
I never sent. Lewd songs booming from car windows and
pirate records.
Two men fixing the bathroom...
5 tags
#91: Tribute
Done. Don’t go,
I could say. Giving
Meaning to an
Individual feeling.
Teenage thoughts
Abound in me.
Rapid succession of
Brilliant years
Ended and gone by.
Ringing watches or
Biting alarm-clocks
Announcing endings of
These heroes I knew.
Open arms forever.
Vivid images of you.
3 tags
#90: Former Stranger
Let me love the world as I loved you:
walking blindly to your arms, making them home,
fearless of anything that meant you;
suddenly my surroundings were the nightmare and the deathtrap,
the embodiment of fear was never you.
I cried on the phone after your voice,
the bridge to the outside, the protector
—no God ever gave me home sweet home—
rang into my eyes: the sirensong.
...
3 tags
#89: Absent
I cannot live with You—
It would be Life—
-Emily Dickinson
Let me not live inside your arms
like a lotus flower in the dark:
my nightmares and perverse imaginations
make me flinch like an infant in fear:
but the dream you offer me in pieces
is nothing but an automnal nap—
so let’s take these last and charming minutes
of music and blessings I wish I take.
3 tags
#88: Sundays
They hang to their last hours
like torture
unwilling to depart
in silence
reminders of the sad
condition
of customary cups
of coffee
3 tags
#87: I Never Learned to Draw
So I really like you
Blackboard baby
When I can outsketch you
And turn you into my past
With former days cologne
And then erase
For new days
ln backyards
3 tags
#86: Reconcile
Night and beauty and bonhomie
Reconcile me with life
And if you gave me the downpour
Of tears and those clear eyes
I would find the simple words
To forgive God in His height
3 tags
#85: Forget
Let me forget
you
and the scars
the pumping
anything
I’ll take
myself
as a bunch
of skin
so lower
than a car
or status
you take
3 tags
#84: Sleepless
my mother gave me sleeping pills
so i could drift away dreamless
in the night. because there’s no illusion,
no morning to look forward to but
there’s nothing in the darkness as well, see,
no prince to hug and steal me away in dreams.
(my parents never hug me)
3 tags
#83: Unrealistic
Last chances
are stretched out like S.O.S. calls
dying on the inside
for torture devices
try to make them taller
like surreal football stars
3 tags
#82: The Beauty of Limits
Guess there’s nothing that wounds life as much as languor.
The indefinite, stretching string of days under the same sky
like a yawn, like a hand reaching out because of sleepiness
or desperation. Unknowing of the hours is a sigh.
So, when there’s a glimpse of it being over,
there’s a crowd on the stars, the shining of a street
you look twice for you won’t see it...
3 tags
#81: Little One
Forgive me if I cry because Grandma
blesses the car with the prayers she knows
or if my uncle plays Adventure Island
and some other games that I used to know
when younger and I look for a moment
or a dream to relive a past I could touch
and take years in a small ball and make them
the perfect fantasy, with all nightmares gone.
3 tags
#80: Pozo de los deseos (haiku)
Otorgada de
Sueño trashumante que
Busca realidad.
3 tags
#79: Dreams vs Reality
So when dreams knock reality out,
will you be ready then?
To embrace the beloved monster of your thoughts?
To take on the quest your heart has retraced?
To be everything you dreamed you could be
even though the mind is easier task?
3 tags
#78: So...
So, can you flesh me out as a woman
From the demonic arms of the night?
So, can you burn the bridges to past lives
With the embraces of a polished mirror?
So, can you erase the meaning of “heart”
With something else than the tombstones of everyday?
So, can you take the words of these eyes
And flesh them out, as well, as a woman?
3 tags
#77: My Nervous Hands Wrote This
You’re a sigh choking in the midst of the stars
A splinter crawling in the back of a neck
The bite of the ripper heart of the people
Nothing is an adjective upon your story
It glides nameless when you suck life away from words
When you murder promises into poetry
You leave behind the whimpering ghost of May
The whore-humming of closing doors
The dead phoenixes of ashen hearts
...
3 tags
#76: Carta confesa
Si tú murieras
Las estrellas a pesar de su lámpara encendida
Perderían el camino
¿Qué sería del universo?
-Vicente Huidobro, Altazor
Hola.
No podría ser escrito de otra manera,
aunque esto sea prosa entrecortada,
pero es que es la forma en que hablo,
hipando, temblando, ante las enredaderas
de tus ojos, ante las risas que olvido en
otras cartas—
quiero que sean tuyas. No lo...
3 tags
#75: Goodbyes
today they take away the car
i never really used. parents wouldn’t let me.
even so, the memory of what could have
happened takes a little place of the night.
they bought it for my brother and me.
or that was the way it was supposed to
be. when my brother threw my records
out the car, i told my mother the car
would never be mine. she said i was crazy
and paranoid, always making a big...
3 tags
#74: Polysyllabic
This anathema fire
violent-and-virulent,
wallflower-surreal,
electrified-as-water,
hyperdimensional
in polyquantum systems
could be nothing.
3 tags
#73: Wanderlust
kill this hunger
in an attempt to deny
my self-imposed exile
tracing my burning gut
like desperation
drowning
in fixed-image windows
3 tags
#72: Ask for It
Let me take a kiss from you in hatred
because of the queen I never was
because of the images you had in mind
and the denial you sport tonight
when I’m no longer the angel
and you’re no longer adventurous
and you still ask for perfection:
it’s much easier to forget me,
to fall asleep with the me that was not me,
to take revenge for my carnality and mortal eye.
4 tags
#71: Sandman, You
Just as they said my mother was dying I took you
Against the deathbed that was the hour of sleep.
Mostly it was just me, holding against my body
Eternal, like a prayer, like the smell of something
Sacred, a magazine with you, and as a cover story all your
Hate, all the sadness that led you to write what you did,
Evil, you, and your music, what I learned to love so.
Taken by your memories,...
3 tags
#70: Zeeland
Gray lines of sea under gray skyline.
The unmoving air, sticks over rocksand.
The clouds, so lonely, whispers
over this phantom town. Lonely road, no sun,
the sweet indifference of life engulfed in this.
Mist hiding the horizon from eyes,
a sweet place to let these tears roll down,
without anyone walking on to you.
Lonely as the moon set out to sea,
stone lover, waving hairstrands of a...
4 tags
#69: And I've Seen the Eternal Footman Hold My...
She eyes me like a Pisces when I’m weak.
-Nirvana, “Heart Shaped Box”
We could hang by a thread
the stranglehold of my soul
gasping into the fountain of eternity
unable to see the light.
We could be strange drops in the night
if it wasn’t because of the venom
of your hex, your vainglorious youth.
Like a honeytrap I dream,
bless, awake, see nothing but this.
I...
3 tags
#68: Jelinek's Children
For Emily
And every other cutter
They. The anarchists of skin.
The ones who show us the true face of life,
turning our gut wounds the other way around,
showing us the stitches, like a banner:
their St. Crispian’s day is every day.
Life’s needlework, showcased, traced,
they’re her work of art, living, and breathing,
every speck of dust their final sigh. Scratching
...
3 tags
#67: Attending in Spirit
Have we lost that beautiful custom of loving from a distance?
Of taking our presences, as a ruffling breeze.
as our source of happiness? We made our souls our uninvited guests
and dwelt along with them in shadowy corners
creating our bonds, enjoying our small hours
together, in imagination and all these future plans.
We tried to give a name to those days we’d spend together,
imagined...
4 tags
#66: Missing (Milk Carton Haiku)
If you ever find him,
Him alcoholic-haze blind,
Say hello; don’t wake him.
3 tags
#65: Imperfect Wish
What can I say: I asked for it.
Someone who wouldn’t taint love into illusion,
someone who would be as true as a snow ripple,
someone who I had only made up.
And now that I see you in front of me,
I think of myself as unworthy to you.
You have taken love as idealism, flame;
but me, desire has burned harshly upon my past,
it hangs upon me like a burden and a kill,
Damocles’...
4 tags
#64: Realized (Haiku)
That I do love you.
Because I killed happiness
For your gentle smile…
4 tags
#63: Limitless (and Horrid) Aleph
What I am, however, is host to something that will never leave. It made me realise that you should take great care in what you choose - often in a cavalier moment - to place in your memory, because some things will sit there for ever, like a bad seed; like a shadow on the moon; like a crow on a fence in a dream.
- Caitlin Moran after watching the “Ukraine Maniacs” video
Should...
3 tags
#62: Rewriting
Papers crumble and eventually are memories in the wastebasket.
What should I do to keep these, your words, in permanence?
I have tried to keep them in my heart,
as a golden museum embroidery,
but then I disposed of that idea,
for my heart is no eternal figure:
keeping your words as a tattoo in nothing but this body,
would make of them nothing but a sigh for mortal coils.
Practicity,...
July 2012
31 posts
4 tags
#61: Petición
Quiéreme
como yo te quiero
poniendo la otra mejilla
para que tú la hagas trizas
con la espada voluta del deseo
pidiendo a gritos tu clemencia
un suspiro de vuelta con mi nombre
para otorgarte aunque sea sólo engaño
tu pizca de terrenalidad.
Quiéreme así.
A evocaciones entre páginas
roídas, a mitades de frases
contrahechas, que tristemente reconocen
que tú has de ser obra maestra;
...
4 tags
#60: Andrógina
Bebes la cerveza a pico de botella,
siempre, así. Nunca como dama en un vaso,
sacudiéndote el cabello de forma descuidada,
largo, así lo llevas. Mal peinado.
Años y nunca te queda bien,
o eso dice tu madre. Y es que siempre has sido eso,
chico de cabello largo, de esos que se lo dejan crecer
porque así es el rock n’ roll. Cuando te maquillas
es como ellos, más Freddie Mercury que
...
4 tags
#59: Childhood's End? (á la Marillion)
I remember hiding my head under the pillow
when there was a ghost around the house
until I learned how to cry myself to sleep
and then I found out no night’s for dreaming
so I eventually reverted prayers.
Now I go to life as to the office,
standing there, looking at my watch
sometimes impatiently, listening to parents
who no longer love each other,
dreading that moment when...
3 tags
#58: X
I dreamt about you once and twice and everlasting
until I wore you off and faded you away
because page after page you were dog-eared.
(Not to mention gray eraser-holes,
ripped-out guts of spiral-bound notebooks).
In several pillows I saw something else.
Eventually it was not you, it was me
and the crawling whispers of my name now intertwined
with everything else and a second home.
So...
3 tags
#57: Like a Child Again
Be my mother.
Be there, when I open my eyes
during some afternoon that’s everything like the others
and find myself an orphan
(my mother’s upstairs, I know,
my brother’s in his room, my father
is not home yet) but I’m here,
looking at a finished childhood in the eye.
Be my covers under which I hide
when there’s a monster in my yard
of...
3 tags
#56: The Cleaners
They’re the ghosts of my unspoken knives,
of the words I keep to myself forming vermin
at the pool of my stomach. It’s the smile
before a drink, before pushing an
“I don’t care” behind the gums and the bones
that are the teeth. Who are you after all.
I don’t care if you smile and come to me,
showing off some shadows of a picture,
pretending you’re...
4 tags
#55: Dreamer
I have rolled over and over in a future
that rolled over in Lynn Goldsmith and Springsteen
catching fire in Cameron Crowe movies
in bloodied romances and heavy metal
of escaping and running and then Chickenfoot
singing to me I’m their kinda girl.
4 tags
#54: ¿Tímida?
Rehuir
el arte del viento
y de los abanicos sin ojos,
de la seda
la imitación de mi nombre
yo que escondo
que busco alas
que busco ser sombra
camuflaje a pasos
para no ver los días
3 tags
#53: Engagement
I once again take my vows
to illusion and the twinkling lights in mirrors
and even though there are no original plans
there is still that faint smell of faraway
and of a whole wide world waiting for me
my aisle, and my promise in an altar,
made of life and beauty and of you.
