tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-32943311483516406992024-03-13T12:26:59.504-07:00RONALD CAMPOS: POESÍA TRASCENDENTALISTA"La poesía es la verdad de las almas despiertas."R.C.L.http://www.blogger.com/profile/12746209437177545634noreply@blogger.comBlogger16125tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-3294331148351640699.post-49689356055053476002010-05-02T12:58:00.000-07:002010-05-02T13:08:33.122-07:00¡NAVAJA DE LUCIÉRNAGAS! ¡Disponible ya!<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiWqOx8AOWEaRjHO1CbgOsTB3lNGYlDIr8UWyLhPd_1kwVcM5UQRoe1sx9-JHG1iRjI4Xkvl95JGSSaCsJM9Zb7V7JRYHC7Io_iRfAVugNG9TQ4mDzbyLfYBM20EU-Ksa8NnWT4eSZPhzw/s1600/Portada+Navaja+de+luci%C3%A9rnagas.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiWqOx8AOWEaRjHO1CbgOsTB3lNGYlDIr8UWyLhPd_1kwVcM5UQRoe1sx9-JHG1iRjI4Xkvl95JGSSaCsJM9Zb7V7JRYHC7Io_iRfAVugNG9TQ4mDzbyLfYBM20EU-Ksa8NnWT4eSZPhzw/s320/Portada+Navaja+de+luci%C3%A9rnagas.jpg" /></a></div>¡EN VENTA! Ya podés adquirir el nuevo poemario de Ronald Campos: <i>NAVAJA DE LUCIÉRNAGAS</i>, en todas las librerías de la UNED, en San José y Heredia. Un canto al amor y erotismo gay, sin prejuicios sociales ni estéticos ¡Cómpralo ya!R.C.L.http://www.blogger.com/profile/12746209437177545634noreply@blogger.com2tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-3294331148351640699.post-50554416687835760912009-12-31T14:21:00.000-08:002009-12-31T14:31:33.911-08:00Reverencia al amor<a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgGmLCi_C4dty883EDY5TpYj8YXoCslOLAcYWxP9equOk3Kg9xEnKR8-KFEhGR6VO_iIDOLAMJem9Z1Xms7Ji-wj_AP9h69NNZdZBdj9s3gKsLRzZ9jIPep4cn-VkIjXLb55GUg0_X9vGQ/s1600-h/Reverencia+al+amor+Ronald+Campos.jpg"><img style="margin: 0px auto 10px; display: block; text-align: center; cursor: pointer; width: 266px; height: 400px;" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgGmLCi_C4dty883EDY5TpYj8YXoCslOLAcYWxP9equOk3Kg9xEnKR8-KFEhGR6VO_iIDOLAMJem9Z1Xms7Ji-wj_AP9h69NNZdZBdj9s3gKsLRzZ9jIPep4cn-VkIjXLb55GUg0_X9vGQ/s400/Reverencia+al+amor+Ronald+Campos.jpg" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5421529565481131330" border="0" /></a>
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name="Bibliography"> <w:lsdexception locked="false" priority="39" qformat="true" name="TOC Heading"> </w:LatentStyles> </xml><![endif]--><style> <!-- /* Font Definitions */ @font-face {font-family:"Cambria Math"; panose-1:2 4 5 3 5 4 6 3 2 4; mso-font-charset:0; mso-generic-font-family:roman; mso-font-pitch:variable; mso-font-signature:-1610611985 1107304683 0 0 415 0;} /* Style Definitions */ p.MsoNormal, li.MsoNormal, div.MsoNormal {mso-style-unhide:no; mso-style-qformat:yes; mso-style-parent:""; margin:0cm; margin-bottom:.0001pt; mso-pagination:widow-orphan; font-size:12.0pt; font-family:"Times New Roman","serif"; mso-fareast-font-family:"Times New Roman"; mso-ansi-language:ES; mso-fareast-language:ES;} .MsoChpDefault {mso-style-type:export-only; mso-default-props:yes; mso-ascii-font-family:Calibri; mso-ascii-theme-font:minor-latin; mso-fareast-font-family:Calibri; mso-fareast-theme-font:minor-latin; mso-hansi-font-family:Calibri; mso-hansi-theme-font:minor-latin; 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mso-fareast-theme-font:minor-fareast; mso-hansi-font-family:Calibri; mso-hansi-theme-font:minor-latin; mso-bidi-font-family:"Times New Roman"; mso-bidi-theme-font:minor-bidi;} </style> <![endif]--> <p class="MsoNormal" style="line-height: 150%;"><i><span style="font-size: 18pt; line-height: 150%; color: rgb(255, 102, 0);" lang="ES">T</span></i><span style="color: rgb(204, 102, 0);" lang="ES">ócame.</span><span lang="ES">
<br /><span style="color: rgb(204, 102, 0);">Tú pediste el adiós.</span>
<br /><span style="color: rgb(204, 102, 0);">Tan lenta e indecisamente me pediste</span>
<br /><span style="color: rgb(204, 102, 0);">el adiós.</span>
<br />
<br /><span style="color: rgb(204, 102, 0);">Tócame,
<br />toma esta llave.
<br />¡Y atraviesa mi cuarto insospechado!,</span>
<br /><span style="color: rgb(204, 102, 0);">¡porque es hoy mi piel la que busca tu hombro!,</span>
<br /><span style="color: rgb(204, 102, 0);">¡la mano frente a lo antes nunca amado!</span>
<br /><span style="color: rgb(204, 102, 0);">Temor súbitamente de rodillas
<br />¡mordiendo soledad, mordiendo labio!:
<br />¡Tus labios…!
<br />
<br />Si el amor no eres tú,</span>
<br /><span style="color: rgb(204, 102, 0);">¿quién cumplirá dócilmente tras la muerte?
<br />
<br />Tócame.
<br />
<br />Yo soy quien se ha equivocado:
<br />He demostrado amarte.</span></span><span style="line-height: 150%;" lang="ES-MX"><o:p></o:p></span></p>
<br />
<br />(En: <span style="font-style: italic;">Navaja de luciérnagas</span>,
<br />próximamente edición EUNED 2010)R.C.L.http://www.blogger.com/profile/12746209437177545634noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-3294331148351640699.post-58867545315668313102009-12-31T13:54:00.000-08:002010-01-01T15:48:46.144-08:00Hacernos al amor...<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgO5Dls3mrKyYHXK3TGNvc1xeMhZkOKc21kdqxuRi3NdrlSTYHwCCluiqOdamVRlIv4nNpvlLuUT9ZiVDbvD4AGfj7OEfGWsKlruOnSNLsvMrq6VPuXcJGQfExtLQiJLdLYiL3RCavCd9A/s1600-h/Hacernos+al+amor+Ronald+Campos.jpg" onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}"><img alt="" border="0" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5421525170120793106" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgO5Dls3mrKyYHXK3TGNvc1xeMhZkOKc21kdqxuRi3NdrlSTYHwCCluiqOdamVRlIv4nNpvlLuUT9ZiVDbvD4AGfj7OEfGWsKlruOnSNLsvMrq6VPuXcJGQfExtLQiJLdLYiL3RCavCd9A/s400/Hacernos+al+amor+Ronald+Campos.jpg" style="cursor: pointer; display: block; height: 308px; margin: 0px auto 10px; text-align: center; width: 400px;" /></a> <br />
<span style="font-size: 130%;"><i style="color: #ff6600;"><span lang="ES"></span></i><i><span lang="ES"><o:p></o:p></span></i></span><br />
<div class="MsoNormal" style="margin-left: 2cm; text-indent: 21.3pt;"><span lang="ES" style="font-family: "; font-size: 22pt;"><o:p> <br />
</o:p></span><br />
</div><div class="MsoNormal" style="margin-left: 2cm; text-indent: 21.3pt;"><span lang="ES" style="font-family: "; font-size: 22pt;"><o:p> </o:p></span><br />
</div><span lang="ES" style="font-family: "; font-size: 24pt;"><o:p></o:p></span><span lang="ES" style="font-family: "; font-size: 24pt;"> <span style="color: #ff6600; font-size: 180%; font-style: italic;">L</span></span><span lang="ES" style="color: #cc6600;">lego, y desnudo estás. <br />
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<div class="MsoNormal"><span lang="ES" style="color: #cc6600;">¡Tocándote como un muchacho<o:p></o:p></span><br />
</div><div class="MsoNormal"><span lang="ES" style="color: #cc6600;">ebrio de dioses totalmente!<o:p></o:p></span><br />
</div><div class="MsoNormal"><span lang="ES" style="color: #cc6600;">Aspiro tu olor de hombre<o:p></o:p></span><br />
</div><div class="MsoNormal"><span lang="ES" style="color: #cc6600;">recién duchado.<o:p></o:p></span><br />
</div><div class="MsoNormal"><span lang="ES" style="color: #cc6600;">¡Aspiro las flores<o:p></o:p></span><br />
</div><div class="MsoNormal"><span lang="ES" style="color: #cc6600;">invisibles saltando de tus poros!<o:p></o:p></span><br />
</div><div class="MsoNormal"><span lang="ES" style="color: #cc6600;">Si enamorabas con nimbadas<o:p></o:p></span><br />
</div><div class="MsoNormal"><span lang="ES" style="color: #cc6600;">naranjas tus pezones.<o:p></o:p></span><br />
</div><div class="MsoNormal"><span lang="ES" style="color: #cc6600;">¡Si con rosas, con sándalo!<o:p></o:p></span><br />
</div><div class="MsoNormal"><span lang="ES" style="color: #cc6600;">¡Con violetas maceradas y azucenas; tulipanes!<o:p></o:p></span><br />
</div><div class="MsoNormal"><span lang="ES" style="color: #cc6600;">Todo yace en equilibrio<o:p></o:p></span><br />
</div><div class="MsoNormal"><span lang="ES" style="color: #cc6600;">bajo tu bóxer encendido.<o:p></o:p></span><br />
</div><div class="MsoNormal"><span lang="ES" style="color: #cc6600;">Y sacudes el agua<o:p></o:p></span><br />
</div><div class="MsoNormal"><span lang="ES" style="color: #cc6600;">de tu lomo cobrizo.<o:p></o:p></span><br />
</div><div class="MsoNormal"><span lang="ES" style="color: #cc6600;">¡Friccionas tu cuello con esa tu mano<o:p></o:p></span><br />
</div><div class="MsoNormal"><span lang="ES" style="color: #cc6600;">que desde allí me sueña!<o:p></o:p></span><br />
</div><div class="MsoNormal"><span lang="ES" style="color: #cc6600;">Hurgando los rincones<o:p></o:p></span><br />
</div><div class="MsoNormal"><span lang="ES" style="color: #cc6600;">de tu espalda, de tus nalgas.<o:p></o:p></span><br />
</div><div class="MsoNormal"><span lang="ES" style="color: #cc6600;">¡Hurgando delicioso<o:p></o:p></span><br />
</div><div class="MsoNormal"><span lang="ES" style="color: #cc6600;">tus caderas de arcángel vestidas ya de mundo!<o:p></o:p></span><br />
</div><div class="MsoNormal"><span lang="ES" style="color: #cc6600;">T</span><span lang="ES-MX" style="color: #cc6600;">u pelo, brisa</span><span lang="ES" style="color: #cc6600;"><o:p></o:p></span><br />
</div><u1:p></u1:p> <br />
<div class="MsoNormal"><span lang="ES-MX" style="color: #cc6600;">idéntica a lejanías.</span><span lang="ES" style="color: #cc6600;"><o:p></o:p></span><br />
</div><u1:p></u1:p> <br />
<div class="MsoNormal"><span lang="ES-MX" style="color: #cc6600;">¡Tu cuello convocado a la muerte,</span><span lang="ES" style="color: #cc6600;"> luz pausada!<o:p></o:p></span><br />
</div><div class="MsoNormal"><span lang="ES" style="color: #cc6600;">Tus vellos, ráfaga de carne.<o:p></o:p></span><br />
</div><div class="MsoNormal"><span lang="ES-MX" style="color: #cc6600;">¡Tu pene como un río que viniera</span><span lang="ES" style="color: #cc6600;"><o:p></o:p></span><br />
</div><u1:p></u1:p> <br />
<div class="MsoNormal"><span lang="ES-MX" style="color: #cc6600;">desde extintas manos a morir sobre mi espalda!</span><span lang="ES" style="color: #cc6600;"><o:p></o:p></span><br />
</div><u1:p></u1:p> <br />
<div class="MsoNormal"><br />
</div><div class="MsoNormal"><span lang="ES-MX" style="color: #cc6600;">Llego, ¡y con mi boca abro</span><span lang="ES" style="color: #cc6600;"><o:p></o:p></span><br />
</div><u1:p></u1:p> <br />
<div class="MsoNormal"><span lang="ES-MX" style="color: #cc6600;">sujetándote el candado del aire</span><span lang="ES" style="color: #cc6600;"><o:p></o:p></span><br />
</div><u1:p></u1:p> <br />
<div class="MsoNormal"><span lang="ES-MX" style="color: #cc6600;">entre tus piernas!</span><span lang="ES" style="color: #cc6600;"><o:p></o:p></span><br />
</div><u1:p></u1:p> <br />
<div class="MsoNormal"><span lang="ES" style="color: #cc6600;">Acuclillada tu entrepierna…<o:p></o:p></span><br />
</div><div class="MsoNormal"><span lang="ES" style="color: #cc6600;">¡Acuclillada como un cáliz, una hostia,<o:p></o:p></span><br />
</div><div class="MsoNormal"><span lang="ES" style="color: #cc6600;">a donde llevas, ay, lentamente mi cabeza!<o:p></o:p></span><br />
</div><div class="MsoNormal"><br />
</div><div class="MsoNormal"><span lang="ES" style="color: #cc6600;">No cometas en mí<o:p></o:p></span><br />
</div><div class="MsoNormal"><span lang="ES" style="color: #cc6600;">el peor de tus silencios.<o:p></o:p></span><br />
</div><div class="MsoNormal"><span lang="ES" style="color: #cc6600;">Somos la vaciedad<o:p></o:p></span><br />
</div><div class="MsoNormal"><span lang="ES" style="color: #cc6600;">tan ciega de esta tarde.<o:p></o:p></span><br />
</div><div class="MsoNormal"><br />
</div><div class="MsoNormal"><span lang="ES" style="color: #cc6600;">Después de todo, amor,<o:p></o:p></span><br />
</div><div class="MsoNormal"><span lang="ES" style="color: #cc6600;">somos más antiguos que el instante de morir<o:p></o:p></span><br />
</div><div class="MsoNormal"><span lang="ES" style="color: #cc6600;">amándonos.</span><br />
</div><div class="MsoNormal"><br />
<br />
</div><div class="MsoNormal"><span lang="ES"><o:p> </o:p></span><br />
</div><div class="MsoNormal"><span lang="ES">(En: <i>Navaja de luciérnagas</i>,</span><br />
</div><div class="MsoNormal">próximamente edición EUNED 2010)<br />
</div><div class="MsoNormal"><span lang="ES"><o:p> </o:p></span><br />
</div>R.C.L.http://www.blogger.com/profile/12746209437177545634noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-3294331148351640699.post-91348438251928572012008-09-12T08:05:00.000-07:002009-12-31T13:29:07.812-08:00<blockquote dir="ltr" style="margin-right: 0px; color: rgb(102, 0, 0);"> <blockquote dir="ltr" style="margin-right: 0px;"> <p style="color: rgb(51, 0, 0); font-style: italic; font-weight: bold;"><span style=";font-family:georgia;font-size:180%;" >BREVE NOCIÓN ESTÉTICA E IDEOLÓGICA</span></p> <p><span style="font-size:100%;"> </span></p> <p style="color: rgb(102, 0, 0);"><span style=";font-family:georgia;font-size:100%;" ><br /></span></p><p style="color: rgb(102, 0, 0);"><span style=";font-family:georgia;font-size:100%;" >El <i>trascendentalismo </i>corresponde a una experiencia estética que busca la revelación de lo metafísico del ser humano, por medio del lenguaje poético, en medio de un mundo cada vez más desacralizado. </span><span style="font-size:100%;"><span lang="ES-CR"><span style="font-family:georgia;">Es conveniente aclarar que el uso del concepto <i>"trascendental"</i> no representa precisamente una preocupación metafísica u ontológica; ello sería adaptar la poesía a los valores y medios particulares de la filosofía. El concepto trascendental no parte en la poesía de la especulación, propia de la filosofía, sino de <i>la vivencia trascendental conseguida a partir de la forma del poema para llegar al lector</i>.</span></span></span></p><p style="color: rgb(102, 0, 0);"><span style=";font-family:georgia;font-size:100%;" >El trascendentalismo nace como movimiento literario en Costa Rica a partir de la publicación del <i>Manifiesto Trascendentalista</i>, en <i>1977</i>. Sus autores <i>Laureano Albán</i>, <i>Julieta Dobles</i>, <i>Carlos Francisco Monge</i> y <i>Ronald Bonilla</i> concibieron una poética cuyo fin <span lang="ES-CR"><span style="font-family:georgia;">es ultraliterario: Incorporarse al ser, trascender la estructura literaria y convertir el poema en vivencia trascendental para llegar al lector.</span></span></span></p><p style="color: rgb(102, 0, 0);"><span style=";font-family:georgia;font-size:100%;" ><span lang="ES-CR">Desde mi poética y relectura del Manifiesto Trascendentalista, considero que la liberación de todo espacio interior se logra por medio de la poesía, por medio de la inevitable <i>revelación</i> alcanzada entre la <i>intuición trascendental</i> con que el poema acoge, desapercibida, la experiencia del otro y la <i>liberación expresiva del lenguaje</i>. En el lenguaje coloquial, la metáfora manifiesta una presencia constante. Esto se debe a que, en ocasiones, resulta imposible no usarla, porque la metáfora siempre obedece a la ineludible necesidad de expresar cuanto no posee equivalente en el lenguaje directo y conceptual. En fin, la poesía, dijo Federico García Lorca, se defiende con dificultad de la inteligencia. La poesía ha trocado en sus mejores instantes la indefectible fenomenología de lo racional por el sentido mayor de todo ser: el misterio. <i>En un esfuerzo por superar las cárceles comunes del lenguaje, muchos se han perdido.</i> Esta es la primera trasgresión del poeta.</span></span></p><p style="color: rgb(102, 0, 0);"><span style=";font-family:georgia;font-size:100%;" ><span lang="ES-CR"><i>Lo trascendental</i> compréndase como una actitud a partir de la experiencia vital del ser humano, <i>una resignificación del mundo</i>, un cambio íntimo a partir de una experiencia estética, donde el lenguaje, en tanto mostración reveltiva, provoca en el lector lo conocido por los antiguos griegos como <i>el</i> thauma: el sentido de nulidad, éxtasis o descubrimiento frente a la revelación de lo hierático, lo metafísico y vivencial permanente en el ser humano. Es decir, en tanto el lector experimente, a través del poema, una anagnórisis (un reconocimiento) de su condición cósmica y sagrada, habrá alcanzado, entonces, su infinita sustancialidad el poema. Esta es la segunda trasgresión del poeta.</span></span></p><p style="color: rgb(102, 0, 0);"><span style=";font-family:georgia;font-size:100%;" ><span lang="ES-CR">Hörderling dijo: "Es poéticamente como el hombre habita la tierra." </span></span><span style=";font-family:georgia;font-size:100%;" ><span lang="ES-CR">Este tan sólo es un esbozo de un paradigma, más que personal, el de un grupo unido por el mismo. Nuestro ideal muy pocas veces ha sido comprendido como tal: "La poesía es la verdad de las almas despiertas."</span></span></p></blockquote></blockquote>R.C.L.http://www.blogger.com/profile/12746209437177545634noreply@blogger.com1tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-3294331148351640699.post-21773286357798258482008-06-15T16:37:00.001-07:002009-12-31T13:33:21.896-08:00Caballos en mi taza de café<a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgSwY06kiHPBnsoGWG86cvwmttj4cdeGEBCx_MVB6C78T_hJg2bAyTbofVgDGJ7ljhyvRd-ImdNmPk5PRFiYq2lGlSLROiQv_cOQPF6Xi-d_CQCRi0Lp5VPHkNZap14dRwQlBJTcNyaREA/s1600-h/troupa-de-caballos-blancos.jpg"><img style="margin: 0pt 10px 10px 0pt; float: left; cursor: pointer; width: 400px; height: 300px;" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgSwY06kiHPBnsoGWG86cvwmttj4cdeGEBCx_MVB6C78T_hJg2bAyTbofVgDGJ7ljhyvRd-ImdNmPk5PRFiYq2lGlSLROiQv_cOQPF6Xi-d_CQCRi0Lp5VPHkNZap14dRwQlBJTcNyaREA/s400/troupa-de-caballos-blancos.jpg" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5421491800998898274" border="0" /></a><br /><a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhtAn3VoNXoqJmHiiBDWkxGWIPLE9YuMONYSB6QLUw2V-385-XooE9VrvjzlAS2W54ZftplhBRG8-G910X9AtgJHJCAxslCInWkZylF-JXOqmIsnkGy47azzIt3CcWvcqb9lmDIUD09nYE/s1600-h/caballos-del-alma.jpg"><img style="margin: 0pt 0pt 10px 10px; float: right; cursor: pointer; width: 400px; height: 248px;" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhtAn3VoNXoqJmHiiBDWkxGWIPLE9YuMONYSB6QLUw2V-385-XooE9VrvjzlAS2W54ZftplhBRG8-G910X9AtgJHJCAxslCInWkZylF-JXOqmIsnkGy47azzIt3CcWvcqb9lmDIUD09nYE/s400/caballos-del-alma.jpg" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5421490347525013554" border="0" /></a><br /><br /><br /><br /><br /><br /><br /><br /><br /><br /><br /><br /><br /><br /><br /><br /><br /><br /><br /><br /><br /><br /><br /><br /><br /><br /><br /><br /><br /><br /><span style="font-family:times new roman;"><span style="color: rgb(255, 153, 0);font-size:180%;" ><br /><br /><br />H</span><span style="color: rgb(153, 0, 0);">e llegado un poco tarde</span></span><br /><span style="color: rgb(153, 0, 0);font-family:times new roman;" >a las 5:30 del café, y he levantado</span><br /><span style="color: rgb(153, 0, 0);font-family:times new roman;" >esta tibia taza de modo</span><br /><span style="color: rgb(153, 0, 0);font-family:Times New Roman;" >que levanto incluso el corazón.</span><br /><span style="color: rgb(153, 0, 0);font-family:Times New Roman;" >He levantado la negra taza de beber,</span><br /><span style="color: rgb(153, 0, 0);font-family:Times New Roman;" >y sin querer han entrado con tajo</span><br /><span style="color: rgb(153, 0, 0);font-family:Times New Roman;" >azul sobre el pecho caballos,</span><br /><span style="color: rgb(153, 0, 0);font-family:Times New Roman;" >caballos empuñados locos</span><br /><span style="color: rgb(153, 0, 0);font-family:Times New Roman;" >pisando sangres,</span><br /><span style="color: rgb(153, 0, 0);font-family:Times New Roman;" >caballos empuñados locos</span><br /><span style="color: rgb(153, 0, 0);font-family:Times New Roman;" >hasta el filo unívocos,</span><br /><span style="color: rgb(153, 0, 0);font-family:Times New Roman;" >caballos empuñados locos</span><br /><span style="color: rgb(153, 0, 0);font-family:Times New Roman;" >contra esta taza relinchando</span><br /><span style="color: rgb(153, 0, 0);font-family:Times New Roman;" >como un humillo,</span><br /><span style="color: rgb(153, 0, 0);font-family:Times New Roman;" >o como una herida,</span><br /><span style="color: rgb(153, 0, 0);font-family:Times New Roman;" >sobre mi negro sorbo todavía...</span><br /><span style="color: rgb(153, 0, 0);font-family:times new roman;" ></span><br /><span style="color: rgb(153, 0, 0);font-family:times new roman;" >He aguardado</span><br /><span style="color: rgb(153, 0, 0);font-family:times new roman;" >―cigarrillo en boca―</span><br /><span style="color: rgb(153, 0, 0);font-family:times new roman;" >el estrago de todo cuerpo</span><br /><span style="color: rgb(153, 0, 0);font-family:times new roman;" >sobre espejos besados.</span><br /><span style="color: rgb(153, 0, 0);font-family:Times New Roman;" ></span><br /><span style="color: rgb(153, 0, 0);font-family:Times New Roman;" >¡Y sí!</span><br /><span style="color: rgb(153, 0, 0);font-family:Times New Roman;" >Temo haberte fallado, padre;</span><br /><span style="color: rgb(153, 0, 0);font-family:Times New Roman;" >el no haber sido suficiente</span><br /><span style="color: rgb(153, 0, 0);font-family:Times New Roman;" >umbral dispuesto ante</span><br /><span style="color: rgb(153, 0, 0);font-family:Times New Roman;" >¡tu hábito preciso de ser cuchillo!</span><br /><span style="color: rgb(153, 0, 0);font-family:Times New Roman;" ></span><br /><span style="color: rgb(153, 0, 0);font-family:Times New Roman;" >Temo haber</span><br /><span style="color: rgb(153, 0, 0);font-family:Times New Roman;" >decepcionado a ese otro,</span><br /><span style="color: rgb(153, 0, 0);font-family:Times New Roman;" >¡que impenitente viene</span><br /><span style="color: rgb(153, 0, 0);font-family:Times New Roman;" >preguntando por mí desde otras muertes!</span><br /><span style="color: rgb(153, 0, 0);font-family:Times New Roman;" ></span><br /><span style="color: rgb(153, 0, 0);font-family:Times New Roman;" >Temo, simplemente, doler</span><br /><span style="color: rgb(153, 0, 0);font-family:Times New Roman;" >como un tajo de crines sobre las cosas puras,</span><br /><span style="color: rgb(153, 0, 0);font-family:Times New Roman;" >¡como un corazón</span><br /><span style="color: rgb(153, 0, 0);font-family:Times New Roman;" >sitiando al corazón!</span><br /><span style="color: rgb(153, 0, 0);font-family:Times New Roman;" ></span><br /><span style="color: rgb(153, 0, 0);font-family:Times New Roman;" >He llegado un poco tarde,</span><br /><span style="color: rgb(153, 0, 0);font-family:Times New Roman;" >y he encontrado mi cuerpo</span><br /><span style="color: rgb(153, 0, 0);font-family:Times New Roman;" >en la esquina más lámpara</span><br /><span style="color: rgb(153, 0, 0);font-family:Times New Roman;" >del café: cucharilla y soledad y taza entre las manos.</span><br /><span style="color: rgb(153, 0, 0);font-family:Times New Roman;" ></span><br /><span style="color: rgb(153, 0, 0);font-family:Times New Roman;" >Y sin embargo, he traído una</span><br /><span style="color: rgb(153, 0, 0);font-family:Times New Roman;" >naranja doblada</span><br /><span style="color: rgb(153, 0, 0);font-family:Times New Roman;" >en mi bolsillo,</span><br /><span style="color: rgb(153, 0, 0);font-family:Times New Roman;" >para ofrecértela y distraerte</span><br /><span style="color: rgb(153, 0, 0);font-family:Times New Roman;" >cuando decidas,</span><br /><span style="color: rgb(153, 0, 0);font-family:Times New Roman;" >Dios mío,</span><br /><span style="color: rgb(153, 0, 0);font-family:Times New Roman;" >tomarme por estas manos,</span><br /><span style="color: rgb(153, 0, 0);font-family:Times New Roman;" >¡y disfrazar conmigo niebla a niebla</span><br /><span style="color: rgb(153, 0, 0);font-family:Times New Roman;" >también tu grito!</span><br /><span style="font-family:Times New Roman;"></span><br /><span style="font-family:Times New Roman;">(En: Hormigas en el pecho)</span><br /><br />Ronald Campos López, costarricense. <p>Con este poema participo en el segundo <a href="http://heptagrama.com/sp/arte-poesia-concurso-2010.htm">Concurso de Poesía</a> de <a href="http://heptagrama.com/">Heptagrama</a></p>R.C.L.http://www.blogger.com/profile/12746209437177545634noreply@blogger.com1tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-3294331148351640699.post-4153687077364282402008-06-15T16:30:00.001-07:002009-12-31T12:19:16.549-08:00Jugarretas a trasluz<a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiTROQ6JZGURl4I01LtEChyphenhyphenf_mUKSYe7Yx-1A8bT6MZtR1JEFD30-zFD2Wez_IFZkZPxJkseMxEYzv8jFM8QPZlePEeN43c4QiSTdygKhOIATgXvdiZCbrDnWq6bGtinIkCYVf37m5LFsA/s1600-h/Pedro_Alhambra-Angel_CaidoII.jpg"><img style="display:block; margin:0px auto 10px; text-align:center;cursor:pointer; cursor:hand;width: 273px; height: 400px;" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiTROQ6JZGURl4I01LtEChyphenhyphenf_mUKSYe7Yx-1A8bT6MZtR1JEFD30-zFD2Wez_IFZkZPxJkseMxEYzv8jFM8QPZlePEeN43c4QiSTdygKhOIATgXvdiZCbrDnWq6bGtinIkCYVf37m5LFsA/s400/Pedro_Alhambra-Angel_CaidoII.jpg" border="0" alt=""id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5421497398107954146" /></a><br /><a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjEnU-TXqyR1YpPBQhmrKT7jCB65e1_OPQcBtKGdmhVT_dqXGRJtD8Vco0SS7hgfdPTReJJxMoxJczD2C-suPo1f09upmSgf9xEz5HoiIuOVS6lh2uxkcdh9rydFkPygQc1_OilgSneL3A/s1600-h/fondos-escritorio-angeles-estatua-p.jpg"><img style="float:left; margin:0 10px 10px 0;cursor:pointer; cursor:hand;width: 400px; height: 300px;" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjEnU-TXqyR1YpPBQhmrKT7jCB65e1_OPQcBtKGdmhVT_dqXGRJtD8Vco0SS7hgfdPTReJJxMoxJczD2C-suPo1f09upmSgf9xEz5HoiIuOVS6lh2uxkcdh9rydFkPygQc1_OilgSneL3A/s400/fondos-escritorio-angeles-estatua-p.jpg" border="0" alt=""id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5421496003575082706" /></a><br /><div align="right"><span style="font-family:times new roman;">"¿Quién, si yo gritara, me oiría desde las jerarquías</span></div><div align="right"><span style="font-family:times new roman;">de los ángeles?... Todo ángel es terrible."</span></div><div align="right"><span style="font-family:times new roman;"></span> </div><div align="right"><span style="font-family:times new roman;">Rainer María Rilke</span></div><span style="font-family:Times New Roman;"></span><br /><span style="font-family:Times New Roman;"><span style="font-weight: bold; color: rgb(255, 153, 0);font-size:180%;" >L</span><span style="color: rgb(153, 0, 0);">o nuestro es terrible:</span></span><br /><span style="color: rgb(153, 0, 0);font-family:Times New Roman;" >Arribar como un niño a este mundo,</span><br /><span style="color: rgb(153, 0, 0);font-family:Times New Roman;" >disfrazado para el viaje, y sin ser ya temible.</span><br /><span style="color: rgb(153, 0, 0);font-family:Times New Roman;" ></span><br /><span style="color: rgb(153, 0, 0);font-family:Times New Roman;" >Lo nuestro es terrible...</span><br /><span style="color: rgb(153, 0, 0);font-family:Times New Roman;" ></span><br /><span style="color: rgb(153, 0, 0);font-family:Times New Roman;" >Háblame, que no quiero</span><br /><span style="color: rgb(153, 0, 0);font-family:Times New Roman;" >volverme esa palabra incesante para el silencio.</span><br /><span style="color: rgb(153, 0, 0);font-family:Times New Roman;" >Tócame, porque ya, ¡ya ha sido demasiado tarde:</span><br /><span style="color: rgb(153, 0, 0);font-family:Times New Roman;" >me he descubierto siendo Dios entre tus brazos!,</span><br /><span style="color: rgb(153, 0, 0);font-family:Times New Roman;" >pues te besé tan sigilosamente,</span><br /><span style="color: rgb(153, 0, 0);font-family:Times New Roman;" >que sobre tu boca estallaron lunas</span><br /><span style="color: rgb(153, 0, 0);font-family:Times New Roman;" >rodeándolo todo, ¡todo, todo...!</span><br /><span style="color: rgb(153, 0, 0);font-family:Times New Roman;" >Al final, sólo quedó</span><br /><span style="color: rgb(153, 0, 0);font-family:Times New Roman;" >sobre tu sombra y mi sombra</span><br /><span style="color: rgb(153, 0, 0);font-family:Times New Roman;" >este escarabajo cómplice</span><br /><span style="color: rgb(153, 0, 0);font-family:Times New Roman;" >deshaciéndose en luz;</span><br /><span style="color: rgb(153, 0, 0);font-family:Times New Roman;" >el resto fue sólo sombras.</span><br /><span style="color: rgb(153, 0, 0);font-family:Times New Roman;" ></span><br /><span style="color: rgb(153, 0, 0);font-family:Times New Roman;" >¡Lo nuestro también es terrible!:</span><br /><span style="color: rgb(153, 0, 0);font-family:Times New Roman;" >¡Esperar sobre el cuerpo</span><br /><span style="color: rgb(153, 0, 0);font-family:Times New Roman;" >sólo un ángel furioso!</span><br /><span style="color: rgb(153, 0, 0);font-family:Times New Roman;" >¡Y negar toda la vida cuando se ama,</span><br /><span style="color: rgb(153, 0, 0);font-family:Times New Roman;" >cerrar los ojos y aventurar abrirlos contra</span><br /><span style="color: rgb(153, 0, 0);font-family:Times New Roman;" >otro cuerpo que tampoco existe!</span><br /><span style="color: rgb(153, 0, 0);font-family:Times New Roman;" ></span><br /><span style="color: rgb(153, 0, 0);font-family:Times New Roman;" >¡Lo tuyo es terrible!:</span><br /><span style="color: rgb(153, 0, 0);font-family:Times New Roman;" >¡Convertirte en este ángel</span><br /><span style="color: rgb(153, 0, 0);font-family:Times New Roman;" >tan lentamente ―repentinamente―,</span><br /><span style="color: rgb(153, 0, 0);font-family:Times New Roman;" >que hasta incluso crees</span><br /><span style="color: rgb(153, 0, 0);font-family:Times New Roman;" >que cuando ves en mí todavía es el mundo!</span><br /><span style="color: rgb(153, 0, 0);font-family:Times New Roman;" ></span><br /><span style="color: rgb(153, 0, 0);font-family:Times New Roman;" >Lo nuestro también es terrible...</span><br /><span style="color: rgb(153, 0, 0);font-family:Times New Roman;" ></span><br /><span style="color: rgb(153, 0, 0);font-family:Times New Roman;" >Mientras aguardan,</span><br /><span style="color: rgb(153, 0, 0);font-family:Times New Roman;" >entrecerrados, nuestros ojos,</span><br /><span style="color: rgb(153, 0, 0);font-family:Times New Roman;" >una mañana que tampoco comienza.</span><br /><span style="font-family:Times New Roman;"></span><br /><span style="font-family:Times New Roman;">(En: Hormigas en el pecho)</span>R.C.L.http://www.blogger.com/profile/12746209437177545634noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-3294331148351640699.post-74224267453813999862008-06-15T16:22:00.000-07:002009-12-31T13:17:57.397-08:00La silla...<a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEi5YTXzfLmuCmLACteh8fq3Xc173ZeWrSd-u_L057Dt1Y7xgiQJxChLH08024HXrFK7tR_MhdjBvkfsZxJ5_FZOi-UDvGadt3gL6GC4F4WEo3GPGU84Ztal-hE8VFOVqxMZuARHURJbmj8/s1600-h/silla_sombra3.jpg"><img style="margin: 0pt 0pt 10px 10px; float: right; cursor: pointer; width: 400px; height: 390px;" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEi5YTXzfLmuCmLACteh8fq3Xc173ZeWrSd-u_L057Dt1Y7xgiQJxChLH08024HXrFK7tR_MhdjBvkfsZxJ5_FZOi-UDvGadt3gL6GC4F4WEo3GPGU84Ztal-hE8VFOVqxMZuARHURJbmj8/s400/silla_sombra3.jpg" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5421512424239517618" border="0" /></a><br /><br /><br /><br /><br /><br /><br /><br /><br /><br /><br /><br /><br /><br /><br /><br /><br /><br /><br /><br /><br /><br /><br /><br /><a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjJTY7ypFoFoojVFEHdmEy6NsOBklAezbvXCJpPIxsP4QJwuR60Vo8w9qfc2Wyc_xsfIAbmsHiLKfTFw9SyitaE9SoCnM5vx0wE9O8tm509Xdxqs7fqChRU_2tMps-sbmLwaY9ZZjDzEb8/s1600-h/VAS05819.jpg"><img style="margin: 0px auto 10px; display: block; text-align: center; cursor: pointer; width: 320px; height: 400px;" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjJTY7ypFoFoojVFEHdmEy6NsOBklAezbvXCJpPIxsP4QJwuR60Vo8w9qfc2Wyc_xsfIAbmsHiLKfTFw9SyitaE9SoCnM5vx0wE9O8tm509Xdxqs7fqChRU_2tMps-sbmLwaY9ZZjDzEb8/s400/VAS05819.jpg" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5421507381399729746" border="0" /></a><br /><br /><div align="right"><span style="font-family:times new roman;">"Ponla en pie ante Este Anciano, ella también teme</span></div><div align="right"><span style="font-family:times new roman;">a Mi Persona. Porque Yo soy Jehová."</span></div><div align="right"><span style="font-family:Times New Roman;"></span> </div><div align="right"><span style="font-family:Times New Roman;">Levítico 19:32</span></div><span style="font-family:Times New Roman;"></span><br /><span style="font-family:Times New Roman;"><span style="color: rgb(255, 153, 0);font-size:180%;" >L</span><span style="color: rgb(153, 0, 0);">a silla ha combatido</span></span><br /><span style="color: rgb(153, 0, 0);font-family:Times New Roman;" >hasta poder amarte.</span><br /><span style="color: rgb(153, 0, 0);font-family:Times New Roman;" >Ella se ha tomado como pretexto</span><br /><span style="color: rgb(153, 0, 0);font-family:Times New Roman;" >solamente un café.</span><br /><span style="color: rgb(153, 0, 0);font-family:Times New Roman;" ></span><br /><span style="color: rgb(153, 0, 0);font-family:Times New Roman;" >El mundo se ha detenido a descansar en ella</span><br /><span style="color: rgb(153, 0, 0);font-family:Times New Roman;" >y tú, sencillamente,</span><br /><span style="color: rgb(153, 0, 0);font-family:Times New Roman;" >¡sencillamente la has manchado!</span><br /><span style="color: rgb(153, 0, 0);font-family:Times New Roman;" >Viniste a sentarte con luto entre las manos.</span><br /><span style="color: rgb(153, 0, 0);font-family:Times New Roman;" >¡Viniste con el luto encubierto entre los labios!</span><br /><span style="color: rgb(153, 0, 0);font-family:Times New Roman;" >Y luto en la camisa y los naranjos</span><br /><span style="color: rgb(153, 0, 0);font-family:Times New Roman;" >y luto entre la herida y los zapatos</span><br /><span style="color: rgb(153, 0, 0);font-family:Times New Roman;" >¡y luto en la madrugada y en el llanto!</span><br /><span style="color: rgb(153, 0, 0);font-family:Times New Roman;" ></span><br /><span style="color: rgb(153, 0, 0);font-family:Times New Roman;" >La silla únicamente te ha mirado,</span><br /><span style="color: rgb(153, 0, 0);font-family:Times New Roman;" >¡y sólo frente a ella estaba tu dolor en alto!</span><br /><span style="color: rgb(153, 0, 0);font-family:Times New Roman;" >Ella sólo ha perseguido</span><br /><span style="color: rgb(153, 0, 0);font-family:Times New Roman;" >su inquieta, azul, inquieta soledad:</span><br /><span style="color: rgb(153, 0, 0);font-family:Times New Roman;" >¡Ella tan sólo te ha esperado!</span><br /><span style="color: rgb(153, 0, 0);font-family:Times New Roman;" ></span><br /><span style="color: rgb(153, 0, 0);font-family:Times New Roman;" >Por eso dejadla en sus verticales</span><br /><span style="color: rgb(153, 0, 0);font-family:Times New Roman;" >cuatro golpes,</span><br /><span style="color: rgb(153, 0, 0);font-family:Times New Roman;" >porque ya has muerto</span><br /><span style="color: rgb(153, 0, 0);font-family:Times New Roman;" >de frente sin poder morirte,</span><br /><span style="color: rgb(153, 0, 0);font-family:Times New Roman;" >porque ya, ya has amado</span><br /><span style="color: rgb(153, 0, 0);font-family:Times New Roman;" >¡y ahora sólo falta que partas tú!,</span><br /><span style="color: rgb(153, 0, 0);font-family:Times New Roman;" >porque nadie mejor</span><br /><span style="color: rgb(153, 0, 0);font-family:Times New Roman;" >que Yo para esperar tu sombra,</span><br /><span style="color: rgb(153, 0, 0);font-family:Times New Roman;" >porque nadie, ¡nadie puede volver</span><br /><span style="color: rgb(153, 0, 0);font-family:Times New Roman;" >sino siendo sólo otro con un golpe,</span><br /><span style="color: rgb(153, 0, 0);font-family:Times New Roman;" >sólo un golpe de luz sobre sus hombros!</span><br /><span style="color: rgb(153, 0, 0);font-family:Times New Roman;" ></span><br /><span style="color: rgb(153, 0, 0);font-family:Times New Roman;" >Ella tan sólo te ha esperado,</span><br /><span style="color: rgb(153, 0, 0);font-family:Times New Roman;" >anciana sin sombrero entre la tarde.</span><br /><span style="color: rgb(153, 0, 0);font-family:Times New Roman;" ></span><br /><span style="color: rgb(153, 0, 0);font-family:Times New Roman;" >La silla únicamente te ha mirado,</span><br /><span style="color: rgb(153, 0, 0);font-family:Times New Roman;" >desde esta silla en que estabas</span><br /><span style="color: rgb(153, 0, 0);font-family:Times New Roman;" >y ya no,</span><br /><span style="color: rgb(153, 0, 0);font-family:Times New Roman;" >ya no podrás estar.</span><br /><span style="font-family:Times New Roman;"></span><br /><span style="font-family:Times New Roman;">(En: Hormigas en el pecho)</span>R.C.L.http://www.blogger.com/profile/12746209437177545634noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-3294331148351640699.post-14932482427334150672008-06-15T16:17:00.000-07:002008-09-12T08:10:48.542-07:00Casa recostada<span style="font-family:times new roman;"><span style="color: rgb(255, 153, 0);font-size:180%;" >Y</span><span style="color: rgb(153, 0, 0);">a quisiera ver yo esta casa,</span></span><br /><span style="color: rgb(153, 0, 0);font-family:Times New Roman;" >incendiada toda de pasillo y de almuerzos,</span><br /><span style="color: rgb(153, 0, 0);font-family:Times New Roman;" >y de madres...</span><br /><span style="color: rgb(153, 0, 0);font-family:Times New Roman;" ></span><br /><span style="color: rgb(153, 0, 0);font-family:Times New Roman;" >Pero, últimamente,</span><br /><span style="color: rgb(153, 0, 0);font-family:Times New Roman;" >me he sentado a platicar</span><br /><span style="color: rgb(153, 0, 0);font-family:Times New Roman;" >con su dios de siete años,</span><br /><span style="color: rgb(153, 0, 0);font-family:Times New Roman;" >quien desde el patio ha entrado</span><br /><span style="color: rgb(153, 0, 0);font-family:Times New Roman;" >arrastrando consigo</span><br /><span style="color: rgb(153, 0, 0);font-family:Times New Roman;" >la carcajada antigua</span><br /><span style="color: rgb(153, 0, 0);font-family:Times New Roman;" >de su hamaca de cielos.</span><br /><span style="color: rgb(153, 0, 0);font-family:Times New Roman;" ></span><br /><span style="color: rgb(153, 0, 0);font-family:Times New Roman;" >Y qué te dijera, si hasta</span><br /><span style="color: rgb(153, 0, 0);font-family:Times New Roman;" >él mismo corre entre estos rincones,</span><br /><span style="color: rgb(153, 0, 0);font-family:Times New Roman;" >recogiendo lagartijas y silencios y sus noches tan llenas</span><br /><span style="color: rgb(153, 0, 0);font-family:Times New Roman;" >de conejos.</span><br /><span style="color: rgb(153, 0, 0);font-family:Times New Roman;" >¿Qué te dijera...?,</span><br /><span style="color: rgb(153, 0, 0);font-family:Times New Roman;" >si se recuesta sobre mi hombre como</span><br /><span style="color: rgb(153, 0, 0);font-family:Times New Roman;" >sobre su propia muerte.</span><br /><span style="color: rgb(153, 0, 0);font-family:Times New Roman;" ></span><br /><span style="color: rgb(153, 0, 0);font-family:Times New Roman;" >Si él es todas las voces</span><br /><span style="color: rgb(153, 0, 0);font-family:Times New Roman;" >¡que cálidamente violentas</span><br /><span style="color: rgb(153, 0, 0);font-family:Times New Roman;" >todavía me sentencian a la vida!</span><br /><span style="color: rgb(153, 0, 0);font-family:Times New Roman;" >¡Si él es un niño de siete años,</span><br /><span style="color: rgb(153, 0, 0);font-family:Times New Roman;" >que cruje arrastrando consigo</span><br /><span style="color: rgb(153, 0, 0);font-family:Times New Roman;" >la tímida muerte aún colgada de mi bolsillo!</span><br /><span style="color: rgb(153, 0, 0);font-family:Times New Roman;" ></span><br /><span style="color: rgb(153, 0, 0);font-family:Times New Roman;" >¡Y no!, ¡yo no quisiera</span><br /><span style="color: rgb(153, 0, 0);font-family:Times New Roman;" >besar esta casa!,</span><br /><span style="color: rgb(153, 0, 0);font-family:Times New Roman;" >pero últimamente, últimamente</span><br /><span style="color: rgb(153, 0, 0);font-family:Times New Roman;" >me he sentado a platicar, a pie cruzado,</span><br /><span style="color: rgb(153, 0, 0);font-family:Times New Roman;" >con su negra costumbre de gato maullándonos</span><br /><span style="color: rgb(153, 0, 0);font-family:Times New Roman;" >cuartos de hora,</span><br /><span style="color: rgb(153, 0, 0);font-family:Times New Roman;" >cuartos de hora azotándonos contra la muerte.</span><br /><span style="font-family:Times New Roman;"></span><br /><span style="font-family:Times New Roman;">(En: Hormigas en el pecho)</span>R.C.L.http://www.blogger.com/profile/12746209437177545634noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-3294331148351640699.post-67871080603703789702008-06-15T16:13:00.000-07:002009-12-31T13:15:44.417-08:00A estribor del ángel<a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEht5yEup2WpI8GXsptAIAkU4V-fX5AUG8DqaiNB0_cTq7eHkpv69Y744SXQQMF2W7iS1-6gqbqhJLCpCTfkaoYAZSfWc9Li842K75zxOXvbM3FPUcHphwxWRGaFpv6a_SjCEupc1Y98Ubs/s1600-h/angeles_y_demonios.jpg"><img style="margin: 0px auto 10px; display: block; text-align: center; cursor: pointer; width: 400px; height: 300px;" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEht5yEup2WpI8GXsptAIAkU4V-fX5AUG8DqaiNB0_cTq7eHkpv69Y744SXQQMF2W7iS1-6gqbqhJLCpCTfkaoYAZSfWc9Li842K75zxOXvbM3FPUcHphwxWRGaFpv6a_SjCEupc1Y98Ubs/s400/angeles_y_demonios.jpg" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5421511547126084242" border="0" /></a><br /><br /><a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjslL9N57XfvimqewMflrM9SAup-VjJvTleEFgt1000jGEnQFzRJZzyeDnCdhzw8vT9R-UmPCxuRpwe5DRb-as8779GcI-dGhNo75yfHHV3WASTtFD6O_E0AaMvZGKkDKC5dvA5lwb-naU/s1600-h/Cuando+los+%C3%A1ngeles+lloran+por+TheHumanForm+deviantArt.jpg"><img style="margin: 0pt 10px 10px 0pt; float: left; cursor: pointer; width: 300px; height: 400px;" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjslL9N57XfvimqewMflrM9SAup-VjJvTleEFgt1000jGEnQFzRJZzyeDnCdhzw8vT9R-UmPCxuRpwe5DRb-as8779GcI-dGhNo75yfHHV3WASTtFD6O_E0AaMvZGKkDKC5dvA5lwb-naU/s400/Cuando+los+%C3%A1ngeles+lloran+por+TheHumanForm+deviantArt.jpg" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5421499589858983346" border="0" /></a><br /><br /><br /><br /><br /><br /><br /><br /><br /><br /><br /><br /><br /><br /><br /><br /><br /><br /><br /><br /><br /><span style="font-family:times new roman;"><span style="color: rgb(255, 153, 0);font-size:180%;" >S</span><span style="color: rgb(153, 0, 0);">er ángel es ser siempre</span></span><br /><span style="color: rgb(153, 0, 0);font-family:times new roman;" >un delito.</span><br /><br /><span style="color: rgb(153, 0, 0);font-family:Times New Roman;" >Ser ángel es ser un niño, que sólo</span><br /><span style="color: rgb(153, 0, 0);font-family:Times New Roman;" >tiene en la garganta apenas un barco atracando</span><br /><span style="color: rgb(153, 0, 0);font-family:Times New Roman;" >hacia la muerte, con un dos</span><br /><span style="color: rgb(153, 0, 0);font-family:Times New Roman;" >y en un dolor en alto estribor,</span><br /><span style="color: rgb(153, 0, 0);font-family:Times New Roman;" >con un dos y un dolor</span><br /><span style="color: rgb(153, 0, 0);font-family:Times New Roman;" >creyéndose irredento corazón.</span><br /><span style="color: rgb(153, 0, 0);font-family:Times New Roman;" ></span><br /><span style="color: rgb(153, 0, 0);font-family:Times New Roman;" >Y fuera yo como Tú otros ángeles,</span><br /><span style="color: rgb(153, 0, 0);font-family:Times New Roman;" >pero yo jamás, yo jamás</span><br /><span style="color: rgb(153, 0, 0);font-family:Times New Roman;" >me he arrodillado tanto hasta besar</span><br /><span style="color: rgb(153, 0, 0);font-family:Times New Roman;" >sobre la fruta augurios.</span><br /><span style="color: rgb(153, 0, 0);font-family:Times New Roman;" ></span><br /><span style="color: rgb(153, 0, 0);font-family:Times New Roman;" >Yo jamás he comprendido</span><br /><span style="color: rgb(153, 0, 0);font-family:Times New Roman;" >lo que es tirarse niño en plena tierra,</span><br /><span style="color: rgb(153, 0, 0);font-family:Times New Roman;" >y someter contra otros ojos cada herida frente a frente</span><br /><span style="color: rgb(153, 0, 0);font-family:Times New Roman;" >porque se tiene rocío,</span><br /><span style="color: rgb(153, 0, 0);font-family:Times New Roman;" >como se tienen canicas</span><br /><span style="color: rgb(153, 0, 0);font-family:Times New Roman;" >para canjear contra el olvido.</span><br /><span style="color: rgb(153, 0, 0);font-family:Times New Roman;" ></span><br /><span style="color: rgb(153, 0, 0);font-family:Times New Roman;" >Ser ángel, es nacer</span><br /><span style="color: rgb(153, 0, 0);font-family:Times New Roman;" >cada día, y todavía no saberlo.</span><br /><span style="font-family:Times New Roman;"></span><br /><span style="font-family:Times New Roman;">(En: Hormigas en el pecho)</span>R.C.L.http://www.blogger.com/profile/12746209437177545634noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-3294331148351640699.post-79352713470491716662008-06-15T15:59:00.000-07:002008-09-12T08:11:29.495-07:00Hormigas en mi pecho<span style="font-family:times new roman;"><span style="color: rgb(255, 153, 0);font-size:180%;" >H</span><span style="color: rgb(153, 0, 0);">eme, aquí tirado,</span></span><br /><span style="color: rgb(153, 0, 0);font-family:Times New Roman;" >con un puñado de hormigas trepando por mi pecho,</span><br /><span style="color: rgb(153, 0, 0);font-family:Times New Roman;" >de pronto trepando</span><br /><span style="color: rgb(153, 0, 0);font-family:Times New Roman;" >hasta formar con manzana y miga y beso</span><br /><span style="color: rgb(153, 0, 0);font-family:Times New Roman;" >mi corazón pequeño,</span><br /><span style="color: rgb(153, 0, 0);font-family:Times New Roman;" >pequeño como un elefante,</span><br /><span style="color: rgb(153, 0, 0);font-family:Times New Roman;" >como un elefante o su larga larga</span><br /><span style="color: rgb(153, 0, 0);font-family:Times New Roman;" >verdad de marfil o de nieve;</span><br /><span style="color: rgb(153, 0, 0);font-family:Times New Roman;" >¡de nieve!, como cuando decide</span><br /><span style="color: rgb(153, 0, 0);font-family:Times New Roman;" >emprender su eterna caída</span><br /><span style="color: rgb(153, 0, 0);font-family:Times New Roman;" >de fruta o hamaca sobre el mundo;</span><br /><span style="color: rgb(153, 0, 0);font-family:Times New Roman;" >¡fruta... tal vez hamaca, elefante o trompa,</span><br /><span style="color: rgb(153, 0, 0);font-family:Times New Roman;" >y sin embargo aún tan pequeño mi corazón!</span><br /><span style="color: rgb(153, 0, 0);font-family:Times New Roman;" ></span><br /><span style="color: rgb(153, 0, 0);font-family:Times New Roman;" >Porque no es posible tener, en cambio,</span><br /><span style="color: rgb(153, 0, 0);font-family:Times New Roman;" >un puñado de hormigas</span><br /><span style="color: rgb(153, 0, 0);font-family:Times New Roman;" >o un zapato atorado</span><br /><span style="color: rgb(153, 0, 0);font-family:Times New Roman;" >en el pecho, aprendiendo</span><br /><span style="color: rgb(153, 0, 0);font-family:Times New Roman;" >lo que es ser hombre de corbata</span><br /><span style="color: rgb(153, 0, 0);font-family:Times New Roman;" >o niño en alta tarde,</span><br /><span style="color: rgb(153, 0, 0);font-family:Times New Roman;" >ay con el corazón cortado.</span><br /><span style="color: rgb(153, 0, 0);font-family:Times New Roman;" ></span><br /><span style="color: rgb(153, 0, 0);font-family:Times New Roman;" >Heme aquí,</span><br /><span style="color: rgb(153, 0, 0);font-family:Times New Roman;" >Dios mío, tirado,</span><br /><span style="color: rgb(153, 0, 0);font-family:Times New Roman;" >y sin saber acaso cuándo</span><br /><span style="color: rgb(153, 0, 0);font-family:Times New Roman;" >empezar a pronunciarme hombre,</span><br /><span style="color: rgb(153, 0, 0);font-family:Times New Roman;" >porque hasta ahora,</span><br /><span style="color: rgb(153, 0, 0);font-family:Times New Roman;" >hasta ahora sólo he sabido de mi silencio</span><br /><span style="color: rgb(153, 0, 0);font-family:Times New Roman;" ><em>en pleno rostro</em>,</span><br /><span style="color: rgb(153, 0, 0);font-family:Times New Roman;" ><em>sitiando el corazón</em>...</span><br /><span style="font-family:Times New Roman;"></span><br /><span style="font-family:Times New Roman;">(En: Hormigas en el pecho)</span>R.C.L.http://www.blogger.com/profile/12746209437177545634noreply@blogger.com1tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-3294331148351640699.post-16499149820931855732008-06-15T14:46:00.001-07:002008-09-12T08:11:52.577-07:00Asignatura cotidiana<span style="font-family:times new roman;"><span style="color: rgb(255, 153, 0);font-size:180%;" >H</span><span style="color: rgb(153, 0, 0);">oy que como siempre he reído</span></span><br /><span style="color: rgb(153, 0, 0);font-family:Times New Roman;" >ante mi propio abrazo en retirada.</span><br /><span style="color: rgb(153, 0, 0);font-family:Times New Roman;" >Hoy que cualquier página de noticiero</span><br /><span style="color: rgb(153, 0, 0);font-family:Times New Roman;" >manosea de golpe</span><br /><span style="color: rgb(153, 0, 0);font-family:Times New Roman;" >mi piel toda contra el viento.</span><br /><span style="color: rgb(153, 0, 0);font-family:Times New Roman;" ></span><br /><span style="color: rgb(153, 0, 0);font-family:Times New Roman;" >Hoy que he amotinado</span><br /><span style="color: rgb(153, 0, 0);font-family:Times New Roman;" >de repente mi camisa</span><br /><span style="color: rgb(153, 0, 0);font-family:Times New Roman;" >sin su atareada pregunta de botones.</span><br /><span style="color: rgb(153, 0, 0);font-family:Times New Roman;" ></span><br /><span style="color: rgb(153, 0, 0);font-family:Times New Roman;" >Hoy que es tantas noches</span><br /><span style="color: rgb(153, 0, 0);font-family:Times New Roman;" >solamente mi desnudez,</span><br /><span style="color: rgb(153, 0, 0);font-family:Times New Roman;" >desprendiendo, una a una,</span><br /><span style="color: rgb(153, 0, 0);font-family:Times New Roman;" >poleas de solo olvido contra el olvido.</span><br /><span style="color: rgb(153, 0, 0);font-family:Times New Roman;" ></span><br /><span style="color: rgb(153, 0, 0);font-family:Times New Roman;" >Hoy... que ho ha sido el aire que iniciamos</span><br /><span style="color: rgb(153, 0, 0);font-family:Times New Roman;" >sino esta máscara</span><br /><span style="color: rgb(153, 0, 0);font-family:Times New Roman;" >demorada frente al silencio.</span><br /><span style="color: rgb(153, 0, 0);font-family:Times New Roman;" >Hoy que tantas noches se agitan ya de pronto,</span><br /><span style="color: rgb(153, 0, 0);font-family:Times New Roman;" >rehusando entregarle nuestros cuerpos insomnes</span><br /><span style="color: rgb(153, 0, 0);font-family:Times New Roman;" >a algún ángel... a este ángel</span><br /><span style="color: rgb(153, 0, 0);font-family:Times New Roman;" >omitido por el beso.</span><br /><span style="color: rgb(153, 0, 0);font-family:Times New Roman;" ></span><br /><span style="color: rgb(153, 0, 0);font-family:Times New Roman;" >Hoy, en fin, que tanta noche se rompe</span><br /><span style="color: rgb(153, 0, 0);font-family:Times New Roman;" >en las íngrimas deudas de Tu cuerpo,</span><br /><span style="color: rgb(153, 0, 0);font-family:Times New Roman;" >es cuando busco sobre esta</span><br /><span style="color: rgb(153, 0, 0);font-family:Times New Roman;" >indescifrable dentadura, lentamente,</span><br /><span style="color: rgb(153, 0, 0);font-family:Times New Roman;" >la palabra</span><br /><span style="color: rgb(153, 0, 0);font-family:Times New Roman;" >rezumada</span><br /><span style="color: rgb(153, 0, 0);font-family:Times New Roman;" >de mi infancia.</span><br /><span style="font-family:Times New Roman;"></span><br /><span style="font-family:Times New Roman;">(En: Deshabitado augurio)</span>R.C.L.http://www.blogger.com/profile/12746209437177545634noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-3294331148351640699.post-51077808000901996732008-06-15T14:38:00.000-07:002008-09-12T08:12:13.379-07:00Apología de mi hermano<div align="right"><span style="font-family:times new roman;">Para René,</span></div><div align="right"><span style="font-family:times new roman;">ocaso interminable</span></div><span style="font-family:Times New Roman;"></span><p><br /><span style="font-family:Times New Roman;"><span style="color: rgb(255, 153, 0);font-size:180%;" >S</span><span style="color: rgb(153, 0, 0);">í, mi hermano se duerme despacio,</span></span><br /><span style="color: rgb(153, 0, 0);font-family:Times New Roman;" >como asilando estas espadas verdes</span><br /><span style="color: rgb(153, 0, 0);font-family:Times New Roman;" >de tanto azar en sus pupilas.</span><br /><span style="color: rgb(153, 0, 0);font-family:Times New Roman;" ></span><br /><span style="color: rgb(153, 0, 0);font-family:Times New Roman;" >Y en su pie anochece</span><br /><span style="color: rgb(153, 0, 0);font-family:Times New Roman;" >el ronroneo inquieto del augurio,</span><br /><span style="color: rgb(153, 0, 0);font-family:Times New Roman;" >¡y en su boca estalla inaplazable</span><br /><span style="color: rgb(153, 0, 0);font-family:Times New Roman;" >la claridad convocada de la ausencia!</span><br /><span style="color: rgb(153, 0, 0);font-family:Times New Roman;" ></span><br /><span style="color: rgb(153, 0, 0);font-family:Times New Roman;" >Mi hermano es así, tan callado</span><br /><span style="color: rgb(153, 0, 0);font-family:Times New Roman;" >y serpentino</span><br /><span style="color: rgb(153, 0, 0);font-family:Times New Roman;" >como las sangrantes curvaturas del crepúsculo.</span><br /><span style="color: rgb(153, 0, 0);font-family:Times New Roman;" ></span><br /><span style="color: rgb(153, 0, 0);font-family:Times New Roman;" >Y si nacieran en su cuello auroras,</span><br /><span style="color: rgb(153, 0, 0);font-family:Times New Roman;" >ahuyentaría la sigilosa ceniza</span><br /><span style="color: rgb(153, 0, 0);font-family:Times New Roman;" >en la que ha pensado Dios su inconcluso rostro.</span><br /><span style="color: rgb(153, 0, 0);font-family:Times New Roman;" ></span><br /><span style="color: rgb(153, 0, 0);font-family:Times New Roman;" >Y es que su nombre grita</span><br /><span style="color: rgb(153, 0, 0);font-family:Times New Roman;" >adivinando con sangre todo en mi casa:</span><br /><span style="color: rgb(153, 0, 0);font-family:Times New Roman;" >cada retrato, cada espejo,</span><br /><span style="color: rgb(153, 0, 0);font-family:Times New Roman;" >¡todos los rincones unísonos que en el cuerpo</span><br /><span style="color: rgb(153, 0, 0);font-family:Times New Roman;" >le inventaron el deseo y la sed!</span><br /><span style="color: rgb(153, 0, 0);font-family:Times New Roman;" ></span><br /><span style="color: rgb(153, 0, 0);font-family:Times New Roman;" >Sí, ¡es un grito que se detiene solo</span><br /><span style="color: rgb(153, 0, 0);font-family:Times New Roman;" >conjugado en plural frente al silencio!</span></p><p><span style="font-family:Times New Roman;">(En: Deshabitado augurio)</span></p>R.C.L.http://www.blogger.com/profile/12746209437177545634noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-3294331148351640699.post-64098416510892941332008-06-15T14:32:00.000-07:002009-12-31T13:38:41.393-08:00La casa...<a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjkudiGs1xMpo4WUstYkOwHiFxlp-X4WDDibPSGTYa7mIv1QvpXZuXC_v7rkwd_UzURUss33T9MTa5fdxRpym-Ftm4DEdQzxP-Pt6036fihSmGeKqDNhp9LlOWllxSht7wzNEe0TvuKBHk/s1600-h/casa+finca+poeta+ronald+campos.jpg"><img style="margin: 0px auto 10px; display: block; text-align: center; cursor: pointer; width: 400px; height: 300px;" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjkudiGs1xMpo4WUstYkOwHiFxlp-X4WDDibPSGTYa7mIv1QvpXZuXC_v7rkwd_UzURUss33T9MTa5fdxRpym-Ftm4DEdQzxP-Pt6036fihSmGeKqDNhp9LlOWllxSht7wzNEe0TvuKBHk/s400/casa+finca+poeta+ronald+campos.jpg" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5421517878247962594" border="0" /></a><br /><div align="right"><span style="font-family:times new roman;">"Es verdad que sus puertas están abiertas</span></div><div align="right"><span style="font-family:times new roman;">¡Que entre el que quiera!"</span></div><div align="right"><span style="font-family:times new roman;"></span></div><div align="right"><span style="font-family:times new roman;">Jorge Luis Borges</span></div><span style="font-family:Times New Roman;"></span><p><br /><span style="font-family:Times New Roman;"><span style="color: rgb(255, 153, 0);font-size:180%;" >E</span><span style="color: rgb(153, 0, 0);">sta no es la casa de mis antepasados</span></span><br /><span style="color: rgb(153, 0, 0);font-family:Times New Roman;" >ni la del terco calor de mi infancia.</span><br /><span style="color: rgb(153, 0, 0);font-family:Times New Roman;" >Toda ella gira detenida</span><br /><span style="color: rgb(153, 0, 0);font-family:Times New Roman;" >ante este segante otoño</span><br /><span style="color: rgb(153, 0, 0);font-family:Times New Roman;" >amotinado en mis cenizas.</span><br /><span style="color: rgb(153, 0, 0);font-family:Times New Roman;" ></span><br /><span style="color: rgb(153, 0, 0);font-family:Times New Roman;" >Yo he sido esta casa y no otros hombres.</span><br /><span style="color: rgb(153, 0, 0);font-family:Times New Roman;" >Yo he sido su noche, su verdeante explanada,</span><br /><span style="color: rgb(153, 0, 0);font-family:Times New Roman;" >esa jaula finita entre cada párpado</span><br /><span style="color: rgb(153, 0, 0);font-family:Times New Roman;" >donde la luz pasa y se asoma y pasa...</span><br /><span style="color: rgb(153, 0, 0);font-family:Times New Roman;" ></span><br /><span style="color: rgb(153, 0, 0);font-family:Times New Roman;" >Nosotros somos su misterio</span><br /><span style="color: rgb(153, 0, 0);font-family:Times New Roman;" >de tantas golondrinas ateridas,</span><br /><span style="color: rgb(153, 0, 0);font-family:Times New Roman;" >cayendo como simples espejillos rotos</span><br /><span style="color: rgb(153, 0, 0);font-family:Times New Roman;" >sobre los labios presentidos de Dios.</span><br /><span style="color: rgb(153, 0, 0);font-family:Times New Roman;" ></span><br /><span style="color: rgb(153, 0, 0);font-family:Times New Roman;" >Esta es nuestra casa</span><br /><span style="color: rgb(153, 0, 0);font-family:Times New Roman;" >con su tangible ruina de solo mariposas,</span><br /><span style="color: rgb(153, 0, 0);font-family:Times New Roman;" >con su levitar de órgano claro,</span><br /><span style="color: rgb(153, 0, 0);font-family:Times New Roman;" >con su techo impasible</span><br /><span style="color: rgb(153, 0, 0);font-family:Times New Roman;" >para anunciarnos que aún existe.</span><br /><span style="color: rgb(153, 0, 0);font-family:Times New Roman;" >En ella cada quien es rumbo,</span><br /><span style="color: rgb(153, 0, 0);font-family:Times New Roman;" >cada quien sin el otro...</span><br /><span style="color: rgb(153, 0, 0);font-family:Times New Roman;" ></span><br /><span style="color: rgb(153, 0, 0);font-family:Times New Roman;" >Adentro sólo queda nuestra mirada fija</span><br /><span style="color: rgb(153, 0, 0);font-family:Times New Roman;" >al estrellarnos contra su regazo inútil,</span><br /><span style="color: rgb(153, 0, 0);font-family:Times New Roman;" >excusando su muerte.</span></p><p><span style="font-family:Times New Roman;">(En: Deshabitado augurio)</span></p>R.C.L.http://www.blogger.com/profile/12746209437177545634noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-3294331148351640699.post-60968031405760804272008-06-15T14:26:00.000-07:002009-12-31T16:14:34.184-08:00Opresión<a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgtAkSTpRDK6Z4sByNPIygjcz3DSg5-NqKu-x1GB8dhcJQKde2Qs6JVda8hd6NEv9DHMfW1u4KpQaHiwa24b6Fr8-EeJ6q-am8goGToozPOtoDYwHwxEpgD8TF90VfPS1xfcJ7RxD7FTZo/s1600-h/ancha_es_castilla.jpg"><img style="margin: 0px auto 10px; display: block; text-align: center; cursor: pointer; width: 400px; height: 306px;" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgtAkSTpRDK6Z4sByNPIygjcz3DSg5-NqKu-x1GB8dhcJQKde2Qs6JVda8hd6NEv9DHMfW1u4KpQaHiwa24b6Fr8-EeJ6q-am8goGToozPOtoDYwHwxEpgD8TF90VfPS1xfcJ7RxD7FTZo/s400/ancha_es_castilla.jpg" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5421558119516226866" border="0" /></a><br /><span style="font-family:times new roman;"><span style="color: rgb(255, 153, 0);font-size:180%;" >¿C</span><span style="color: rgb(153, 0, 0);">ómo serán los campos de Castilla,</span></span><br /><span style="color: rgb(153, 0, 0);font-family:times new roman;" >las orillas del Danubio,</span><br /><span style="color: rgb(153, 0, 0);font-family:times new roman;" >las penumbras de Alejandría?</span><br /><span style="color: rgb(153, 0, 0);font-family:times new roman;" >¡Ah pero los campos de Castilla...!</span><br /><span style="color: rgb(153, 0, 0);font-family:Times New Roman;" ></span><br /><span style="color: rgb(153, 0, 0);font-family:Times New Roman;" >Mi voz intratable es un evangelio de armas,</span><br /><span style="color: rgb(153, 0, 0);font-family:Times New Roman;" >que viene a temblar ahora</span><br /><span style="color: rgb(153, 0, 0);font-family:Times New Roman;" >sobre estas rejas</span><br /><span style="color: rgb(153, 0, 0);font-family:Times New Roman;" >hasta beberme</span><br /><span style="color: rgb(153, 0, 0);font-family:Times New Roman;" >por entera la desnudez.</span><br /><span style="color: rgb(153, 0, 0);font-family:Times New Roman;" ></span><br /><span style="color: rgb(153, 0, 0);font-family:Times New Roman;" >Quiero una piel terrible,</span><br /><span style="color: rgb(153, 0, 0);font-family:Times New Roman;" >mas no de arcilla como antes,</span><br /><span style="color: rgb(153, 0, 0);font-family:Times New Roman;" >sino de hogueras</span><br /><span style="color: rgb(153, 0, 0);font-family:Times New Roman;" >para arder en mi prisión.</span><br /><span style="color: rgb(153, 0, 0);font-family:Times New Roman;" ></span><br /><span style="color: rgb(153, 0, 0);font-family:Times New Roman;" >¿Cómo serán los campos de Castilla...?</span><br /><span style="color: rgb(153, 0, 0);font-family:Times New Roman;" >Y parecerme allí innegable</span><br /><span style="color: rgb(153, 0, 0);font-family:Times New Roman;" >detrás de ellos y con ellos.</span><br /><span style="color: rgb(153, 0, 0);font-family:Times New Roman;" >¡Y sentir que he nacido con la noche!</span><br /><span style="color: rgb(153, 0, 0);font-family:Times New Roman;" ></span><br /><span style="color: rgb(153, 0, 0);font-family:Times New Roman;" >Alguien, de frente, me mira.</span><br /><span style="color: rgb(153, 0, 0);font-family:times new roman;" >―Yo conozco ese rostro―.</span><br /><span style="color: rgb(153, 0, 0);font-family:Times New Roman;" >Que el prisionero no es el hombre,</span><br /><span style="color: rgb(153, 0, 0);font-family:Times New Roman;" >ni el acero la redención.</span><br /><span style="color: rgb(153, 0, 0);font-family:Times New Roman;" ></span><br /><span style="color: rgb(153, 0, 0);font-family:Times New Roman;" >Quizá el olor de tu voz invada esta celda</span><br /><span style="color: rgb(153, 0, 0);font-family:Times New Roman;" >o simplemente se vaya haciendo lluvia</span><br /><span style="color: rgb(153, 0, 0);font-family:Times New Roman;" >hasta ladrar y escupirme en la mirada,</span><br /><span style="color: rgb(153, 0, 0);font-family:Times New Roman;" >o simplemente te vas cayendo</span><br /><span style="color: rgb(153, 0, 0);font-family:Times New Roman;" >tan lento como el ocaso,</span><br /><span style="color: rgb(153, 0, 0);font-family:Times New Roman;" >¡llamándome,</span><br /><span style="color: rgb(153, 0, 0);font-family:Times New Roman;" >desde los campos de Castilla...!</span><br /><span style="font-family:Times New Roman;"></span><br /><span style="font-family:Times New Roman;">(En: Deshabitado augurio)</span>R.C.L.http://www.blogger.com/profile/12746209437177545634noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-3294331148351640699.post-75299759671722323322008-06-15T13:59:00.000-07:002008-09-12T08:13:31.315-07:00Artilugios del crepúsculo<div align="right"><span style="font-family:times new roman;">"Como un ángel sereno de la noche</span></div><div align="right"><span style="font-family:Times New Roman;">mi mitad se cierra y mi mitad se abre..."</span></div><div align="right"><span style="font-family:Times New Roman;"></span></div><div align="right"><span style="font-family:Times New Roman;">Virginia Pineda</span></div><span style="font-family:Times New Roman;"></span><p><br /><span style="font-family:Times New Roman;"><span style="color: rgb(255, 153, 0);font-size:180%;" >P</span><span style="color: rgb(153, 0, 0);">ero quizá otros nos demoren,</span></span><br /><span style="color: rgb(153, 0, 0);font-family:Times New Roman;" >inútilmente, esta sed</span><br /><span style="color: rgb(153, 0, 0);font-family:Times New Roman;" >con sus palabras...</span><br /><span style="color: rgb(153, 0, 0);font-family:Times New Roman;" ></span><br /><span style="color: rgb(153, 0, 0);font-family:Times New Roman;" >Y quizá tu cuerpo se sobreponga</span><br /><span style="color: rgb(153, 0, 0);font-family:Times New Roman;" >apenas silente, desgastando</span><br /><span style="color: rgb(153, 0, 0);font-family:Times New Roman;" >su última hoguera todavía,</span><br /><span style="color: rgb(153, 0, 0);font-family:Times New Roman;" >contra mi abrazo predispuesto ya.</span><br /><span style="color: rgb(153, 0, 0);font-family:Times New Roman;" >contra esta adeudada sombra</span><br /><span style="color: rgb(153, 0, 0);font-family:Times New Roman;" >que es tanto otoño descendiendo a tu mirada.</span><br /><span style="color: rgb(153, 0, 0);font-family:Times New Roman;" ></span><br /><span style="color: rgb(153, 0, 0);font-family:Times New Roman;" >Tal vez no he podido ser sino esta urgencia</span><br /><span style="color: rgb(153, 0, 0);font-family:Times New Roman;" >enfrentada de nuestros cuerpos:</span><br /><span style="color: rgb(153, 0, 0);font-family:Times New Roman;" >¡artilugios pulsantes </span><span style="color: rgb(153, 0, 0);font-family:Times New Roman;" >del crepúsculo,</span><br /><span style="color: rgb(153, 0, 0);font-family:Times New Roman;" >tornándose, inevitablemente, ángel!</span><br /><span style="color: rgb(153, 0, 0);font-family:Times New Roman;" ></span><br /><span style="color: rgb(153, 0, 0);font-family:Times New Roman;" >Sin embargo, tú... yo...</span><br /><span style="color: rgb(153, 0, 0);font-family:Times New Roman;" >como simples pasajeros interrogantes,</span><br /><span style="color: rgb(153, 0, 0);font-family:Times New Roman;" >prometiéndonos infancias y azares y este beso</span><br /><span style="color: rgb(153, 0, 0);font-family:Times New Roman;" >sobre otras latitudes,</span><br /><span style="color: rgb(153, 0, 0);font-family:Times New Roman;" >reflejándonos, sinuosos de pronto,</span><br /><span style="color: rgb(153, 0, 0);font-family:Times New Roman;" >sobre espejos que no fueron, y que aún nos duelen.</span><br /><span style="color: rgb(153, 0, 0);font-family:Times New Roman;" ></span><br /><span style="color: rgb(153, 0, 0);font-family:Times New Roman;" >¿Pero dónde la complcidad</span><br /><span style="color: rgb(153, 0, 0);font-family:Times New Roman;" >inagotable de tu asombro?</span><br /><span style="color: rgb(153, 0, 0);font-family:Times New Roman;" ></span><br /><span style="color: rgb(153, 0, 0);font-family:Times New Roman;" >¿Dónde esta señal undívaga de tu piel</span><br /><span style="color: rgb(153, 0, 0);font-family:Times New Roman;" >contra mi espalda,</span><br /><span style="color: rgb(153, 0, 0);font-family:Times New Roman;" >anegando tan despacio nuestra derrota</span><br /><span style="color: rgb(153, 0, 0);font-family:Times New Roman;" >erguida entre la noche?</span><br /><span style="color: rgb(153, 0, 0);font-family:Times New Roman;" ></span><br /><span style="color: rgb(153, 0, 0);font-family:Times New Roman;" >¿Dónde? ¿Dónde hasta negarnos</span><br /><span style="color: rgb(153, 0, 0);font-family:Times New Roman;" >este imprescindible latido</span><br /><span style="color: rgb(153, 0, 0);font-family:Times New Roman;" >sobre esta mesa desnudísima</span><br /><span style="color: rgb(153, 0, 0);font-family:Times New Roman;" >y su prodigio inaplazable de silencios?</span><br /><span style="color: rgb(153, 0, 0);font-family:Times New Roman;" ></span><br /><span style="color: rgb(153, 0, 0);font-family:Times New Roman;" >Quizá... aún nos demore,</span><br /><span style="color: rgb(153, 0, 0);font-family:Times New Roman;" >inútilmente,</span><br /><span style="color: rgb(153, 0, 0);font-family:Times New Roman;" >esta sed.</span></p><p><span style="font-family:Times New Roman;">(En: Deshabitado augurio)</span></p>R.C.L.http://www.blogger.com/profile/12746209437177545634noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-3294331148351640699.post-56562764574448094212008-06-15T13:47:00.000-07:002009-12-31T15:58:35.991-08:00Elegía náufraga<span style="font-family:times new roman;"><strong><span style="color: rgb(255, 153, 0);font-size:180%;" >P</span></strong><span style="color: rgb(153, 0, 0);">ero debo decirte, amor,</span></span><br /><span style="color: rgb(153, 0, 0);font-family:times new roman;" >que me dueles aún aquí</span><br /><span style="color: rgb(153, 0, 0);font-family:Times New Roman;" >entre cada latido gastado adestiempo,</span><br /><span style="color: rgb(153, 0, 0);font-family:Times New Roman;" >¡que todavía me duele</span><br /><span style="color: rgb(153, 0, 0);font-family:Times New Roman;" >la totalidad inconclusa</span><br /><span style="color: rgb(153, 0, 0);font-family:Times New Roman;" >de tu incendio en mi palabra!</span><br /><span style="color: rgb(153, 0, 0);font-family:Times New Roman;" ></span><br /><span style="color: rgb(153, 0, 0);font-family:Times New Roman;" >Y aquí, entre cada lámpara inevitable de abril,</span><br /><span style="color: rgb(153, 0, 0);font-family:Times New Roman;" >donde te avienes, así de pronto,</span><br /><span style="color: rgb(153, 0, 0);font-family:Times New Roman;" >con este beso de espadas desnudísimas.</span><br /><span style="color: rgb(153, 0, 0);font-family:Times New Roman;" ></span><br /><span style="color: rgb(153, 0, 0);font-family:Times New Roman;" >Y aquí, donde caes</span><br /><span style="color: rgb(153, 0, 0);font-family:Times New Roman;" >poblando lentamente</span><br /><span style="color: rgb(153, 0, 0);font-family:Times New Roman;" >tus lejanías,</span><br /><span style="color: rgb(153, 0, 0);font-family:Times New Roman;" >detrás de cada tarde</span><br /><span style="color: rgb(153, 0, 0);font-family:Times New Roman;" >deshilada sobre mis manos...</span><br /><span style="color: rgb(153, 0, 0);font-family:Times New Roman;" ></span><br /><span style="color: rgb(153, 0, 0);font-family:Times New Roman;" >Alguien ha dejado olvidado su jadeo</span><br /><span style="color: rgb(153, 0, 0);font-family:Times New Roman;" >en esta arcilla atareada</span><br /><span style="color: rgb(153, 0, 0);font-family:Times New Roman;" >del crepúsculo sobre mi hombro.</span><br /><span style="color: rgb(153, 0, 0);font-family:Times New Roman;" ></span><br /><span style="color: rgb(153, 0, 0);font-family:Times New Roman;" >Y aún más cuando mi tacto de nieblas inhabitadas</span><br /><span style="color: rgb(153, 0, 0);font-family:Times New Roman;" >estalla con su olor</span><br /><span style="color: rgb(153, 0, 0);font-family:Times New Roman;" >a laberintos besados,</span><br /><span style="color: rgb(153, 0, 0);font-family:Times New Roman;" >y esta sed,</span><br /><span style="color: rgb(153, 0, 0);font-family:Times New Roman;" >huidiza de tantos mundos,</span><br /><span style="color: rgb(153, 0, 0);font-family:Times New Roman;" >se vuelve hombres y náufragos y noches,</span><br /><span style="color: rgb(153, 0, 0);font-family:Times New Roman;" >sobre la inmensidad levísima de tu espalda...</span><br /><span style="font-family:Times New Roman;"></span><br /><span style="font-family:Times New Roman;">(En: Deshabitado augurio)</span>R.C.L.http://www.blogger.com/profile/12746209437177545634noreply@blogger.com0