Tupacamarú. Miguel O. Menassa Poetry School
Group Zero Director: Miguel Oscar Menassa
RESUME - virtual magazine of poetry -
Workshop Sunday at 17.00h.
Alcalá de Henares
NUMBER 32. Sunday 03/07/2010
Coordinator: Carlos Fernández Goose
Group Zero Director: Miguel Oscar Menassa
RESUME - virtual magazine of poetry -
Workshop Sunday at 17.00h.
Alcalá de Henares
NUMBER 32. Sunday 03/07/2010
Coordinator: Carlos Fernández Goose
Freshwater. Miguel O. Menassa KEY TIME
Open your eyes to heaven, those eyes
mud, night interrupted
where the trembling of your pupils
a hobby becomes dizzying.
Open your eyes and look, front,
the shadow black, embellished with your eyes
the steps of death. Open your eyes
trampled by the slowness of time,
by the body that stirs in the silence, by the madness
incandescent
discovering that loneliness is a song.
Look at your teeth, hiding
those whispers of silk,
that climb endless stairs
and rest between sources of hardship. Injuries
like grooves,
where your blood does not run,
where your smile is covered of torrid grin, pearly
between the skin of your forehead.
Have you awakened?
Where will you go now?
The time key is forged steel sleep.
Prada Vicente Gómez
Open your eyes to heaven, those eyes
mud, night interrupted
where the trembling of your pupils
a hobby becomes dizzying.
Open your eyes and look, front,
the shadow black, embellished with your eyes
the steps of death. Open your eyes
trampled by the slowness of time,
by the body that stirs in the silence, by the madness
incandescent
discovering that loneliness is a song.
Look at your teeth, hiding
those whispers of silk,
that climb endless stairs
and rest between sources of hardship. Injuries
like grooves,
where your blood does not run,
where your smile is covered of torrid grin, pearly
between the skin of your forehead.
Have you awakened?
Where will you go now?
The time key is forged steel sleep.
Prada Vicente Gómez
Dining at Home. Miguel O. Menassa the thirteenth month
Fall Tour.
sheet pales
secrets with daily smell
eyelids weave rendered to the world.
write.
write letters to the distance of
hands shackled to the shadow
poisoned write verses with passion,
of a woman tattooed on the profile of silence,
feel broken my bones.
The dead rise to the beat of the blood flowing in your mouth,
mutes the wind in the back of the vacuum.
And on every page, that loneliness, skin
snatched, silent caresses, fingerprint burning throat
night
worn to forget history.
Soledad Caballero Castro
The contour of your smile. Miguel Oscar Menassa ALMA vertigo
This multi-colored skin is stuck to the beat
fleeting dream house.
This skin will stand another winter,
geography of the past days,
future of a future cut in love and fire.
This skin
bones sustained trembling before the fury left
pierced by a dagger
water and exudes tears of thirst.
There are so many birds in this endless flight
not to be precipitate kisses.
Beware of blinding smile
could be that uproots lips,
without haste, just with the boredom of salt,
in the imagination of stones escarpment the road.
shelter in the den of rags
the innocence lost in the cards,
in this darkness that covers the distance
veins and lines with the ferocity of the stake,
running down the winding back.
Then there's nothing more at this time, and no jail
containing more death, shrinks
when breathing,
Travellers as they pass into the snows of the north.
Ortigosa Carmen Martín
Among the slaughterhouse. Miguel Oscar Menassa THE GLARE OF PORCELAIN
INNOCENT
NOW is a good time
injustice is useful!
as your body
odd ... this world dreams of the maze
changing constantly leaving ...
fish can not carry weapons in a prolonged and vigorous
bludgeoning of keys! I lost
oblivion ... Now is also a good time no
choicest steel rings
as nails rub against rusty saws
revibran you!
as that sky lifted a fist angrily ...
fish start to camouflage the sun
carrying weapons fever kills soup with one hand
the deserving poor ... and the other pounding the keys strokes ...
are blue jacket collars fingers hitting
pockets!
red feet down crying
vibrant birds and flowers like jewels shining
luminous aura of a waist
violet crowned and grounded a double succulence
the labyrinth is a living thing! Piotr
Rzany
The Flowers of Evil Miguel Oscar Menassa BRAID YOUR LEFT HANDED
closures were buckled in your courtship
without thinking what others would. Your learning
star tense
taught you to tie the mysteries of his face. That compliment
liana
own salvation of the defendant. That lie
you found in the old cellar, full of muskets and brass
paper of rain. Falling
Cain without fear,
kept his eyes on the queen's jeweler. His hair
air silence cried fire at dawn.
But you scream with caramel iron voice, let me
go.
Francisco Javier Rueda Diago
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