Stool Blood Cranberry

PORTALES (Literary Magazine)

This year I participated in the eleventh issue of Portals in the literary space of the youth forum (I did not so much) Hall of Logroño creators who coordinates Diego Marín A. in collaboration with the Institute of Youth and the City Council (Youth unit)
swarming around
had no clear destination poems and wrote me an e Diego inviting me to participate so do not pensé.Si I thought the title put the three poems together, as this year, unlike others, are on bloques.Como are unpublished and are interrelated him grotesque to put the title .......

UNPUBLISHED intrinsically


1-QUIET PERIOD OF BAGGAGE

now
we measure time in waiting,
in small steps, in patience for the second.
We take the morning and something irretrievably lost as
and we shape the future.
work with an eye on the quiet,
is the destination of the future and certainty of this.
barreling hope, grow my breath,
and even with the certainty of the fragile,
are the sustenance of life, the breastplate of skin burned.

now plays unfold slowly
,
in a clear and welcoming anonymity,
as the second board or another actor cast,
as secretive man who wanders down the street
in the bustle of big cities, paused on the folly of men,
like a dog on the grave of its owner.
now plays
dawn calm and balance the concerns,
frankly love the country, the rush to distance,
head back to the starting point where we were all beginning
,
where the alliance is clear to be before everything.


2 - THE TIME OF OUR

, (A Stela, teacher and companion)


Throughout the day we see in his eyes tired, it
effort given the mood in defeat.
there in this life a turning point
eternal leaving bare our souls.

pass times and the two flowers are born,
in both love the darkness tempts to return
illuminated the edge of twilight.

there at night
welcome smell of a blanket in the company that covers and come loneliness,
a hug, a ventilator in our dreams,
a way to feel equal.

Throughout the day we learn to complain
to give more than required, not to forgive our weaknesses,
want to have everything at all times and do not accept
escape the latter.

go by watches and eyes growing doubts
phantom fears, old and cowardly fears,
owners invisible wound mistrust reigns.

But there is a treasure buried not far away,
a response to all that binds us,
is a sin that eventually acquitted
when hard, without thinking, we hugged and we forget how bad
lived.





3 - Eyes of a Child

, (To Alexander and Estela)


turns out,
to look into the eyes of children
see some twenty years earlier as it was,
and understand why the innocence. And the patch

adult years,
by what their world was
stone and truth hiding behind the hidden
and how to understand what was not.

So happy blind
certainly live the fairy tale and colorful perennial
as fresh fruit, cherry flavor, with encouragement
happy and relaxed. It

that
to look into the eyes of children
know the reason for the unhappiness, of cowardice and suspicion,
to watch their games, why
envy and lying on my patch dark body and all We call
and older and sensible.

are now my reflection, present from the past, with
Child selfishness and love, even with all the live
ahead of us, desire eagerly adult
from him that was small.