a lie like a magnet
like thunder that doesn’t clap
persists still
after a precise felling
ever since then
death froze lying in wait
til the colors of the rainbow could resolve
the colors I see reflected in these streets
in the night of your pupils
that look without being seen
in the middle of this insomoniac city
where the impenetant wound of the void remains
like a breach in the middle
of history
of the two towers
of the recently become old world
of this immigrant peninsula
breach that separates us
from the torch of liberty
like a gash that doesn’t heal
or a trench
or open vein
or river
we have crossed the river Styx
without noticing
death is incurable
here the rain shines by night on the asphalt
and meets up with ghosts
who call us by our name
without naming us
in a park nearby
young people gather
in vigel or protest
and our feet keep getting wet...
--Lorena © 2012
sábado, 25 de agosto de 2012
miércoles, 22 de agosto de 2012
sin nombre
la mentira
como iman
como
trueno que no estalla
aún
persiste
después
del derrumbe preciso
y desde
entonces
la
muerte se quedó en acecha
hasta
resolverse en los colores del arcoiris
colores
que veo reflejados en estas calles
en
la noche de tus pupilas
que
miran sin que se miren
en
medio de esta ciudad insomne
donde
la herida del vacío impenitente queda
como
una zanja en medio
de
la historia
de
las dos torres
del
recién antiguo mundo
de
esta península inmigrante
zanja que
nos separa
de la antorcha de la libertad
de la antorcha de la libertad
como
una lesión que no se sana
o
trinchera
o
vena abierta
o
río
hemos
cruzado el Estige
sin
darnos cuenta
aquí
la lluvia brilla de noche sobre el asfalto
y se
reune con fantasmas
que
nos llaman por nuestro nombre
sin
nombrarnos
en
un parque cerca
los
jóvenes se juntan
en
vigilia o protesta
y
nuestros pies siguen mojándose...
--Lorena
lunes, 20 de agosto de 2012
poema para ser leído desde la última palabra hasta la primera:
siempre
ella a fiel
serle necesito
vivir para que
yo soy
o
fui que
años cinco de
niña la a
fiel sea que
necesita
ella
conocerla para
--Lorena © 2011-2012
ella a fiel
serle necesito
vivir para que
yo soy
o
fui que
años cinco de
niña la a
fiel sea que
necesita
ella
conocerla para
--Lorena © 2011-2012
poem to be read from the last word to the first:
always
her to faithful
be to needs
live to order in who
me it is
or
was I that
girl
old-year five the to
faithful be to me
needs
she
her know to
--Lorena © 2012
domingo, 19 de agosto de 2012
médula
con tu caricia invitas
tranquilidad / médula
mar / deseo
siempre
en medio
de la vida
silente
-- Lorena Wolfman
tranquilidad / médula
mar / deseo
siempre
en medio
de la vida
silente
-- Lorena Wolfman
marrow
marrow
with your caress you invite
tranquility / marrow
sea / desire
always
in the middle
of life
silent
-- Lorena © 2012
with your caress you invite
tranquility / marrow
sea / desire
always
in the middle
of life
silent
-- Lorena © 2012
today I pack my valise
today I pack my valise for a new life
it is almost empty
I don’t need titles nor adjectives nor adverbs
at most an apple
a serpent follows me
belly to the earth
the pulse of my steps
abandons my feminine inheritance
the marrow of the road blooms
perhaps I have died already
from a past that was not even mine
who was she who died
of whom were her desires of gender
of whom were her fears
well today asking no one’s permission
I prepare for a new life
-- Lorena © 2012
it is almost empty
I don’t need titles nor adjectives nor adverbs
at most an apple
a serpent follows me
belly to the earth
the pulse of my steps
abandons my feminine inheritance
the marrow of the road blooms
perhaps I have died already
from a past that was not even mine
who was she who died
of whom were her desires of gender
of whom were her fears
well today asking no one’s permission
I prepare for a new life
-- Lorena © 2012
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