AUTOCRÍTICA
A
EL RETRATO DEL FANTASMA
This blog is dedicated to introducing my writings, important literary analysis, and general literary events and articles.
Sunday, January 5, 2020
Tuesday, December 31, 2019
2020: Alma Mater II, the prelude to Alma Mater III
LOVE IS SURREAL,
SURREAL IS REAL
A year ago today, I started the publication of the Alma Mater II: Surreal is our love
(American and British editions), Alma
Mater II: Surreal es nuestro amor (Spanish edition), and Alma Mater II : Surréel est notre amour
(French edition), which was completed a few weeks ago. While I am still working
on a robust marketing strategy that yields royalty, I am happy to celebrate
that Kindle Select has now surpassed the 200 thousand free downloads worldwide.
Yes, you can read any of my books free on Kindle Select when you purchase a
Kindle from amazon.com and join Kindle Select.
I started working on Alma Mater II, with the poems
accidentally excluded in Alma Mater I from 2010, after its publication in
2011. Today, you are welcome to reach
any of my books in my author's webpage
Regarding Alma Mater III: Columba, from the Latin word that means pigeon, close to swallow / hirundo or seagull / larum. The focus on Alma Mater III is to provide a
truly selected anthology, to highlight only the positive aspects of life,
prevent touching others' feelings or sensibility in any aspect,
and internalize functional strategies to avoid negative contents of any
nature, which is, in essence, the most challenging aspect of semantics and
communication in the written literature of any genre, especially, in poetry; thus, complying with the intended message. So, Columba
will be an honest message of optimism.
The title Columba is derived
from the first word that I ever learned in Latin and its declension, while
studying privately with Italian friends during my teen years, which was only of
religious motivation partly.
Meanwhile, I encourage all readers
of my blog to read Alma Mater II: Surreal is our love in American or British
English, in Spanish or in French. Incidentally, there will be an Italian
edition (Alma Mater II: Surreal è il
nostro amore), and a Portuguese edition (Alma Mater II: Surreal é o nosso amor), the whose combined schedule is
yet to be put together, in order to complete the umbrella of main languages
spoken in the American continent.
To all lovers of poetry and
literature in general, I wish of a happy new year 2020, filled with peace, love, happiness, and prosperity for all.
Monday, May 20, 2019
FROM ALMA MATER II: SURREAL IS OUR LOVE
THE FORGOTTEN POEM
This poem was actually rescued by Facebook from my account through their remembrance section of a few years ago. The poem was actually written in Spanish and with a few editions and corrections translated into British English for the upcoming British International Edition to appear this month.
FROM ALMA MATER II: SURREAL IS OUR LOVE
(BRITISH INTERNATIONAL EDITION)
TO APPEAR SOON
En el alba en que no pude
encontrarte,
dormías bajo las mantas, silenciosa, muda,
dormías bajo las mantas, silenciosa, muda,
callada por el olvido
inaudito de los cantantes
que enmudecieron tu sueño
aún desnuda.
La serenata llama al
calor de una fogata
que irrumpe en tu espacio
secreto,
deshojada llamarada que ama tus besos
y hasta revuelve tu pelo y en ti la pasión desata.
deshojada llamarada que ama tus besos
y hasta revuelve tu pelo y en ti la pasión desata.
La imperfección de mis
versos te llega como besos
que navegan el frío lejano y calientan un sol,
que late entre paredes de piel, carne, y barro de senos.
que navegan el frío lejano y calientan un sol,
que late entre paredes de piel, carne, y barro de senos.
El alma te despierta y
sientes mi aliento;
tu piel se acrecenta al
latido y sientes mis besos,
que acarician tu sueño y despiertan en tí todo lo bello.
que acarician tu sueño y despiertan en tí todo lo bello.
In the dawn
when I could not find you,
you slept
under the blankets, silent, mute,
quieted by
the unheard-of forgetfulness of the singers
who silenced
your still naked dream.
The serenade
calls for a bonfire's heat
that bursts
into your secret space,
the leafless
flare that loves your kisses
and even
stirs your hair and passion unties in you.
The
imperfection of my verses comes to you as kisses
that navigate
the distant cold and heat a sun,
which beats
between walls of skin, flesh, and breast mud.
The soul
awakens you and you feel my breath;
your skin
increases at my heartbeat and you sense my kisses,
that caress
your dream and awaken in you all beauty.
Tuesday, August 21, 2018
THE WRITING OF ALMA MATER III: COLUMBA
This is my most recent poem originally written in English and later translated into French and Spanish.
The rustic artwork that inspired this poem, after a nice lunch in Upper Manhattan.
Allegory of the moon phases
There is no full moon facing divided hearts
but there is rather a way to abate emptiness
and there are other ways to fulfill pure pleasure
just as she loves me shielding my way, brightness augments.
but there is rather a way to abate emptiness
and there are other ways to fulfill pure pleasure
just as she loves me shielding my way, brightness augments.
And the vanishing moon kisses the dinner time
a promenade in the village is not a walk in the park
I follow your skirts since you've learned to walk fast
I follow your rhythm, your cadence, like good art done right.
Come, relax with me, we both need to be hedonist;
soft and tender, your skin covers your head like a shell
it's a disappearing C, perfect curve triggering peace.
a promenade in the village is not a walk in the park
I follow your skirts since you've learned to walk fast
I follow your rhythm, your cadence, like good art done right.
Come, relax with me, we both need to be hedonist;
soft and tender, your skin covers your head like a shell
it's a disappearing C, perfect curve triggering peace.
And [then] fully erased is the starry night
as gone was the moon, one night awaits
as gone was the moon, one night awaits
like two glimmering shades, love shines on the furtive light.
Allégorie des phases de la lune
Il n'y a aucune pleine lune faisant face aux coeurs divisés
mais il y a plutôt un moyen de réduire le vide
et il y a d'autres façons d'accomplir le plaisir pur
tout comme elle m'aime en me protégeant, la luminosité augmente.
Et la lune qui disparaît embrasse l'heure du dîner
une promenade dans le village n'est pas une promenade dans le parc
je suis tes jupes depuis que tu as appris à marcher vite
je suis ton rythme, ta cadence, comme le bon art très bien fait.
Viens te détendre avec moi, nous devons tous deux être hédonistes;
douce et tendre, ta peau couvre comme une coquille ta tête
c'est un C qui disparaît, une courbe parfaite déclenchant la paix.
Et [alors] entièrement effacée est la nuit étoilée
comme partie était la lune, une nuit attend
comme deux ombres d'éclat, l'amour brille sur la lumière furtive.
Alegoría de las fases de la luna
No hay luna llena que haga frente a los corazones divididos
si no más bien hay formas de reducir el vacío
y hay otros métodos de alcanzar el placer puro
tal cual ella me ama protegiéndome, el brillo aumenta.
Y la luna que se desvanece besa la hora de la cena
un paseo en la villa no es como un paseo por el parque
sigo tus faldas ya que has aprendido a caminar rápido
sigo tu ritmo, tu cadencia, como el arte maestro bien hecho.
Ven a relajarte conmigo, los dos necesitamos ser hedonistas;
suave y tierna, tu piel cubre tu cabeza como cáscara
es una C que desaparece, curva perfecta que desencadena la paz.
Y [entonces] completamente borrada es la noche llena de estrellas
tal cual partió la luna, una noche espera
cual dos sombras de lampo, brilla el amor sobre la luz furtiva.
Wednesday, March 21, 2018
INTERNATIONAL POETRY DAY (A parenthesis)
My poetry to celebrate the International Poetry Day.
Clarena
Te amo en el silencio del crepúsculo matutino
en que sueño con tu cuerpo junto al mío
y advierto bajo el oscuro cielo el viento de los píos
recuerdo tu aire fresco de adolescente
los besos a escondidas bajo el rocío
encendidas las luces de la noche en los caminos
besos sobre las laderas en gradiente ascenso
una memoria única tuya y mía en que eres la otra
caída en un vacío mas cobijada por rosas tiernas
que dulcemente entretienen en ti todo lo mío.
The only unpaved road
Clarena
Te amo en el silencio del crepúsculo matutino
en que sueño con tu cuerpo junto al mío
y advierto bajo el oscuro cielo el viento de los píos
recuerdo tu aire fresco de adolescente
los besos a escondidas bajo el rocío
encendidas las luces de la noche en los caminos
besos sobre las laderas en gradiente ascenso
una memoria única tuya y mía en que eres la otra
caída en un vacío mas cobijada por rosas tiernas
que dulcemente entretienen en ti todo lo mío.
The only unpaved road
The only unpaved road is the symbol of disparity
where no lights illuminate the path of buried history
paved bones in hard cement covered under dust grains
lonely sandy road melted, discriminated from the rest.
Stories of lies to destroy reputation, false witnesses
hookah femmes driving by in white cars all the time
ashes of despair waiting the rebuilding of the saints
contaminated water, polluted air for which no one cares.
The divine road is broken and not covered with fresh oil
yet the intimidating drivers in hater and wrath foil
their frustration of unfulfilled expectations of the unknown
corroded road, corrupted road, where history lived alone.
Saturday, December 23, 2017
ALMA MATER III: COLUMBA. POEMS OF PERFECTION AND ENCHANTMENT
THE WRITING
OF ALMA MATER III; POETRY IN THREE LANGUAGES
For Alma
Mater III, Columba, I have started a draft for a new series of poems of perfection and enchantment, certainly a
rather conservative one.
In this
set of trilingual poetry, I use of the topics virginity and singleness as a unique leit motif, i.e., central idea, as I dedicate this set of poems to
the young women in the alma mater, and very especially to those who are Catholic, who
prefer to wait for the moment and refrain from having pre-marital sex, and from
any other deviance temptations just to experiment (for which they will be blessed), and await for the right time,
after their wedding, to love their perfectly matching blue prince.
While
this is not exactly a feminist perspective, and you might think that I come
from and live in another ancient time, today
it is certainly good for the young women in the alma mater and their continued success there.
Sunday, November 26, 2017
ALMA MATER III (COLUMBA)
The Writing of COLUMBA, Alma Mater III;
poetry in three languages
poetry in three languages
I am currently editing Alma Mater II, and writing Alma Mater III. These are some of the poems that will appear in COLUMBA.
Reconciliation
The campus is open, the
promenade is long
and you can't hide what you heart shows off
and you can't hide what you heart shows off
the sentiment is there, so
you really know
that it beats stronger just
to come afloat.
The morning is shining, no
debt to the flow
as the rivers are calm after a sweet caress
as the rivers are calm after a sweet caress
despite the walk in the park
with no distress
I feel your tenderness
abreast, flesh so soft.
The afternoon bears a kiss
that reunites us
your figure's glow awakens
other thoughts
of more hugs and kisses as
frequently done
before the sudden end of the
long hot sun.
The evening brings us dinner
for we go along
finding inner peace in the
light touch you love
each time we encounter a
moment of thought
another kiss to sing over
again a simple song.
Something ensues our lives
Something ensues our lives...
the transparency of your silk
the clarity below your
shadows
the vicious jealousy of
others
for the love you feel or ever
felt
the double life lived at
shining
the twilight covering your
fabric
underground where your nap is
best.
Something ensues our lives
the dude, doubts of paid love.
Something ensues our lives
the debts of honor you
conceive
an agonic happiness yet to be
found
my very happy life really
long gone.
Something ensues our lives
someone possibly unknown
Something we do not know
Something...
Baise-moi à Nouveau
Baise-moi à nouveau, avant que je parte
tu n'auras aucune idée du jeu des cartes.
Ce que tu cherches ne paraîtra plus
tu écoutes? Ça ne reviendra point.
Baise-moi a nouveau, si tu veux, ça ira bien
tranquil, je comprendrai tes sentiments.
Baise-moi à nouveau, nous serons ensembles...
si jeunes ces amantes du tango, qu'elles se ressemblent.
tu n'auras aucune idée du jeu des cartes.
Ce que tu cherches ne paraîtra plus
tu écoutes? Ça ne reviendra point.
Baise-moi a nouveau, si tu veux, ça ira bien
tranquil, je comprendrai tes sentiments.
Baise-moi à nouveau, nous serons ensembles...
si jeunes ces amantes du tango, qu'elles se ressemblent.
¿Cómo debe ser una rubia?
A la pregunta cómo debe ser una rubia
A la pregunta cómo debe ser una rubia
mi alma diestra responde
dulce y sabia:
La rubia sus cabellos lacios alza al paso
su espalda blanca, rosada en embeleso
una flor amarrada cerca a su oído acaso
una boca tierna húmeda presta al beso.
Una rubia debe tener sus carnes firmes
exhibiendo sensual todo el sentimiento
llevada por el viento sin ningún lamento
si no me dice quédate un rato, podría irme.
La rubia debe tener el secreto y el deseo
acariciar sus cabellos en la penumbra
y atraer el deseo al que su pelo encanta
por sus sayas escarlatas y rosas yo jaleo.
Y aún me pregunto guardando respeto
respecto a la rubia de mi único señorío
que brota sobre mí su sensual escalofrío,
piel de escamas, amada en cada aspecto.
acariciar sus cabellos en la penumbra
y atraer el deseo al que su pelo encanta
por sus sayas escarlatas y rosas yo jaleo.
Y aún me pregunto guardando respeto
respecto a la rubia de mi único señorío
que brota sobre mí su sensual escalofrío,
piel de escamas, amada en cada aspecto.
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