Hi
On Saturday 10, in a very edition Smyrna special, held in Madrid Encounter CdO space, we had the meeting with Carmen Palomo. Carmen is a poet with a voice and excellent imagination, still unpublished, it was worth listening to.
On Saturday 10, in a very edition Smyrna special, held in Madrid Encounter CdO space, we had the meeting with Carmen Palomo. Carmen is a poet with a voice and excellent imagination, still unpublished, it was worth listening to.
After we read the motto of this year's EM, which belongs to the great TS Eliot: "If men do not build, how to live?", Which certainly leads us to notice the character of our initiative, that month after month, guest after guest, and almost without realizing it, allows it to build a place where you can see how our creative horizon grows and expands.
We leave here a few poems by the author and I look forward to the next.
A hug. Smyrna Team
Carmen Palomo Poems:
Your figure stands out on the nights of my childhood love now. The
yours do for my eyes bled more for yours,
vision faded within hours. Sleep
especially
and this time will be legible, tangled legs and fingers
stale vocabulary,
his lamp, galaxies died in the first age.
And do not ever leave this charnel
lighting of the dam cracked
that evasion sick every day.
And kiss me, kiss, put on your world reduced to its promise,
kiss me, son of air, condensation
child. That
lips escort you across the sea salt and dust with joy, as wing
tamed a presence elliptical.
I rastrillaré your chest, her dark circles,
time and space in that curve.
Look, I do my celebration center, recreation
I do my prediction.
Your home is based on innumerable beauty fixed eyelids, eyelashes
on motionless until the total cold stars.
Eyes that see no light, you see it,
ved for karst pit escaped my eyes, look in your favor
, sed
forefront of dawn for a field of needles without flower or fruit,
epicenter of sleep and resistance.
yours do for my eyes bled more for yours,
vision faded within hours. Sleep
especially
and this time will be legible, tangled legs and fingers
stale vocabulary,
his lamp, galaxies died in the first age.
And do not ever leave this charnel
lighting of the dam cracked
that evasion sick every day.
And kiss me, kiss, put on your world reduced to its promise,
kiss me, son of air, condensation
child. That
lips escort you across the sea salt and dust with joy, as wing
tamed a presence elliptical.
I rastrillaré your chest, her dark circles,
time and space in that curve.
Look, I do my celebration center, recreation
I do my prediction.
Your home is based on innumerable beauty fixed eyelids, eyelashes
on motionless until the total cold stars.
Eyes that see no light, you see it,
ved for karst pit escaped my eyes, look in your favor
, sed
forefront of dawn for a field of needles without flower or fruit,
epicenter of sleep and resistance.
(of resistance)
RUINS
Our life is now like the rest of those.
Judgement final. Piedras
stones as we
a finger of sulfur. Witnesses then
- gods, muses,
ants have paid their guilt in the asphalt.
But still there, accusations
silent
stars,
ruins,
reports.
Oblivion is a
squeezed orange juice in laughter
in opulence. Moreover
.
The Odeon still rumbles.
barking man,
echoes on deaf ears. Indictment
more:
drowning tragedy, light,
the monument.
The mask is the face.
Capital punishment is served.
The past, the ruins
condemn our heritage:
the legacy of all, the man her cubicle.
Our life is now like the rest of those.
Judgement final. Piedras
stones as we
a finger of sulfur. Witnesses then
- gods, muses,
ants have paid their guilt in the asphalt.
But still there, accusations
silent
stars,
ruins,
reports.
Oblivion is a
squeezed orange juice in laughter
in opulence. Moreover
.
The Odeon still rumbles.
barking man,
echoes on deaf ears. Indictment
more:
drowning tragedy, light,
the monument.
The mask is the face.
Capital punishment is served.
The past, the ruins
condemn our heritage:
the legacy of all, the man her cubicle.
(of resistance)
you called me from before me
since then
intact at a time when not even located on any map,
from a spotlight that only understands
Hurricane
always aware of its skies. Beyond
,
mystery.
I kneel. Víveme
well and not leave me alone.
not leave me, love,
on the crests of dawn.
(of resistance)
I do not dwell on things,
but together with my hands and ascend
them into the jaws of heaven.
live there all alone. My pain was
range and pasture for them
and material, recorded by alcohol and fear,
the burden of my love and my assent.
I have inscribed on my lips the smile
those strange beings who harvest worms for eternity.
(of resistance)
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