December 12, 2024 9:45 am

THIS TRIP: Poetry, by Mercedes Roffé

THIS TRIP   I do not know how many dreams ago began this journey, the shore of the sun, the shore of death. Like a veil sinks back into memory, apprentice of exile. Oh mirror, moon ominous. From which mountain will ask the way to the waters, the shore of the sun, the shore of death. The time has stopped, …

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BETWEEN THE BATTLES AGAINST MYSELF: Poetry, by Heiner Müller

BETWEEN THE BATTLES AGAINST MYSELF What are my work, type of weapon and fight change, one of us always wins, usually is the other. There is a dead time, punctuated forage coitus drug talk: life. It’s too long, the wounds are closed too quickly. (Heiner Müller) http://www.amazon.com/Heiner-Muller-Reader-Plays-Poetry/dp/0801865786      

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THE SUITE ON THE LIGHTHOUSE: Harlingen, Netherlands, for your special stay in a lighthouse

I am sure you will love this opportunity to stay. Yes, very, very safe, because the flight of stairs leading to the bedroom, the small sitting-room, to the room of the lighthouse, will offer a panorama incredibly spectacular. Certainly, this unusual suite is a little expensive, but interesting, intriguing and unusual to celebrate a special moment of your life. http://www.vuurtoren-harlingen.nl/en/ …

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THAW: Poetry, by Kathleen Jamie

THAW   When we brought you home in a taxi, through the steel-grey thaw, after the coldest week in memory – even the river sealed itself – it was I, hardly breathing, who came through the passage to our yard, welcoming our simplest things: a chopping block, the frost-split lintels; and though it meant a journey through darkening snow, arms …

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THE PLACE OF A WOMAN: Poetry, by Imtiaz Dharker

THE PLACE OF A WOMAN You must be careful to mouth, especially if you’re a woman. A smile is stifled, with the hem of her sari. No one must see your serenity cracked, even joy. If you occasionally need to scream, fault alone, but in front of a mirror, where you can see the strange shape that takes the mouth, …

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WE SPEAK: Poetry, by Iñigo Aranbarri

WE SPEAK You say it is fate. Contemplate the day calling the death, go as the last rays innermost shadows, caressing tranquility forever, as the sweet music of the port. Watch as well as the time goes. like a ship, large, silent, precise. Full of questions. (Iñigo Aranbarri)  

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THE STONES: Poetry, by Tomas Tranströmer

THE STONES I feel that we have laid down the stones, crystal clear over the years. in the valley flywheel action of the moment confused, shouting from the top to the top of the trees, silent air lighter than this, swooping like swallows from top to top of the mountains until they reach the plateau the most remote along the …

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A CRY INSIDE ME: Poetry of Dario Bellezza

A CRY INSIDE MY There is a crying inside me: life screaming It leaves no trace plausible, disfigured it fastens love and death, ungrateful to sleep in the night. So, we think of the past deceptions: we dream. All I care about most in peace It must be fought, rejected. (Dario Bellezza) http://www.amazon.it/Tutte-poesie-Dario-Bellezza/dp/8804648392  

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YOU NEED TO IMAGINE SOMETHING: Cholula (Mexico), watching the hill

Perhaps, it is necessary that you imagine something, watching this hill. What it conceals is invisible, but I want to tell you something, to whet your curiosity. What is visible in the eyes, I will describe: 365 churches and a city, built – in the sixteenth century – over the ruins of an ancient Indian center. The pre-Hispanic Cholula was …

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