Death shall have no dominion...
Though they sink through the sea they shall rise again;
Though lovers be lost love shall not;
And death shall have no dominion.
(Dylan Thomas)
Remedios Varo/ Cazadora de Astros
The more loving One
Admirer as I think I am
Of stars that do not give a damn,
I cannot, now I see them, say
I missed one terribly all day.(W.H.Auden)
viernes, 30 de abril de 2010
Just Words About Women...
Publicado por Unknown en 19:06 Etiquetas: amores antaño, confesiones, Mujeres, pensamientos, PoesíaBoceto de: Sandy Sánchez S.
PINTORA
Mirar un lienzo en blanco tiene un matiz de seducción y transgresión. Cómo tú misma cuando el silencio te lleva a llenar de sombras mi habitación semi-alumbrada.
Pintora, tu cuadro va más allá de la tinta que llenará de puntos esta memoria de las manos y este vacío de absoluto de sonidos. Tus pinceles sordos, pintora, mis plumas ciegas... ellas que sólo reflejan las imágenes aún sin sombras, esta intensidad de puntos y comas sobre tu espina dorsal.
¿Por qué las palabras fluyen como magma hacia las profundidades marinas? Sólo te preparas para pintar... sin embargo, es tu desnudez parcial el alma que mira fijamente el lienzo blanco. Y yo que te miro desde mi pluma, sólo puedo pintar adjetivos con tinta obscura.
jueves, 22 de abril de 2010
Día de la Rosa y el Libro
Publicado por Unknown en 19:49 Etiquetas: Fotografía, maestros, Mitos, San JordiLa casa Botlla construida por el famoso arquitecto Gaudí en Barcelona, su construcción rememora la historia del St Jordi y el Dragón, personajes emblemáticos del día del libro.
Her Triumph
I did the dragon's will until you came
Because I had fancied love a casual
Improvisation, or a settled game
That followed if I let the kerchief fall:
Those deeds were best that gave the minute wings
And heavenly music if they gave it wit;
And then you stood among the dragon-rings.
I mocked, being crazy, but you mastered it
And broke the chain and set my ankles free,
Saint George or else a pagan Perseus;
And now we stare astonished at the sea,
And a miraculous strange bird shrieks at us.
William Butler Yeats
jueves, 8 de abril de 2010
Having to say not order to start,
There's nothing to say
About moments of flesh;
Real like stone, ethereal like souls...
Not order to speak of shadows and bones
Having to say not order to start,
Telling tales of all those words
which are said without tongue.
Timing your words,
falling in the bottom of the floor.
Ceiling's going down; it's all in the world
Is it in your hands the slippery sound of cold?
Is it in your head the memory of my legs?
Is it in your lips the light of the dawn?
Nothing to say in this order of speech…
Nothing to break, nothing to blame
There’s something to say,
but no one to read.
There's nothing to say
About moments of flesh;
Real like stone, ethereal like souls...
Not order to speak of shadows and bones
Having to say not order to start,
Telling tales of all those words
which are said without tongue.
Timing your words,
falling in the bottom of the floor.
Ceiling's going down; it's all in the world
Is it in your hands the slippery sound of cold?
Is it in your head the memory of my legs?
Is it in your lips the light of the dawn?
Nothing to say in this order of speech…
Nothing to break, nothing to blame
There’s something to say,
but no one to read.
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Entradas (Atom)
Reason of being here.
"Vengo de una raza notable por la fuerza de la imaginación y el ardor de las pasiones, algunos me han llamado loco, pero aún no se resuelve la cuestión de si la locura es o no la forma más elevada de la inteligencia"
E.A. Poe (Entrada del cuento Eleonora)