For they never were children
Fed by the sour milk of two vindictive gods,
their lullabies were the whistles of bombs,
their toys stones, debris, blessed bullets.
Fired in rage by a giant with no conscience,
they played at killing unknown enemies
and learnt how to hate instead of loving.
They shared more blood than holy bread
and greediness stole their right to smile,
their innocent games. The sound of guns
accompanied their dreams made of nightmares.
Used as human shields, as human bombs,
terror became their only unwanted friend
and heaven turned into hell, life into fear.
Their playgrounds gulped by ambitious prophets,
they saw their fathers fight, their fathers die,
their mothers shedding tears and losing hopes.
Some of them were shot while running in the streets,
their dark eyes trying to understand that creepy madness
and they always looked like desperate men.
For they never were children.
——–0-O-0——–
Stir-up
For dVerse – Advent
Advent’s here, Christmas coming
with purple, red and rose candles.
Four weeks with Christ in the fifth,
core of the evergreen wreath.
White in the Circle of Light,
a Love that will never die.
Advent’s the flame of our faith,
Sarum blue and golden bells.
Busy fairies – mothers cooking –
make mincemeat and whiskey pudding.
Vespers censing with our prayers,
carol singing fill the air.
We follow the bright star
with a pure, childlike heart.
Advent season, let’s prepare
for the birth of our Lord Jesus!
The stork’s bill-clatters
under stormy sky
the bell tower nests weeping –
the stork’s bill-clatters
~ Dulcina ~
Harpooned
wailing a sad song
she knows mad male’s revenge well
as deep as ocean
as deep as ocean
her heart harpooned by man’s rage
insane obsession
insane obsession
pursuing her musky smell
that pleasant white skin
that pleasant white skin
tied up together for life
rough dangerous rope
rough dangerous rope
lacing both towards blue death –
another Ahab
~ Dulcina ~
Flying fisher
flying fisher by shore
expert diver sighting prey
raptor of the bay
raptor of the bay
neither seagull nor eagle
malefic angel
malefic angel
hovering on the water
with evil feathers
with evil feathers
wings flapping in the wind
plunging from the heights
plunging from the heights
its victim clawed in midair
so majestic flight!
so majestic flight!
fiery eyes looking for fish
drowned by greediness
~ Dulcina ~
Never where I was
Never where I was I were
but away, away…
a place though I don’t remember
my heart says it must exist,
a place
strangely I miss plenty, enjoying a non-existence
in beatific peace, fairly,
outside orbital space,
far from death, off worldly limits,
void of human emptiness,
in which noises can’t be heard,
voices in arpeggio wave,
no shit to share, no sweat to smell,
sacred essence of camellias,
no dark to fear, no dust to clear,
layers of the finest crystal,
no fights to win or orders to obey,
everlasting harmony,
no injustice to bear, no lies to hear,
the language of innocence,
no more ugliness, no more anger,
fed by the mana of faith,
no more raw sex for sex’s sake,
a kind of different pleasure, sense absence,
a gift only a few have felt.
Anticipation of something mortals
are not allowed in this world.
Eternal bliss,
dreams being go on dreaming,
all days time stopped are vanished,
haste of frenzy hours gone,
tumbled walls in holy holes,
our long lost paradise for ever green,
floating on celestial clouds.
That place nowhere where all is love,
the only ambition life in grace,
total absence of things and words,
magic dancing with happy angels,
silver lyres and flutes playing in praise
with joyful spirits, all friends,
in His divine awful presence,
completely imbued in His very trusted Word.
Yet, by now, still on ground
stuck to gravity, earthly bound,
flesh attracted by same flesh,
mortal body and matters here
keeping soul in tight console,
narrow mind hard to control,
rare atmosphere in which to breathe,
beat after beat, till heart fails,
brain stops, skin turns pale,
eyes are closed by someone near
and then… then…
to that nowhere where all is null,
none can be extinguished
for anima remains eternal
in His merciful forgiveness.
Never where I am I really am,
but away… away…
leaving the universal dwelling
as if I had not existed
– have I? –
where I came from,
where I primary belong,
away…away…
.
~ Dulcina ~
Today’s now
Tomorrow
Lale
Little suns
a field
full of little suns
looking at big dad
*
~ Dulcina ~
Geisha
moon face smile
under combed night,
sad eyes, cherry lips
*
white powdered face,
black hair – servile
power of geisha
*
~ Dulcina ~
Night tears
For Tackle It Tuesday, morning dew
night tears
adorn purple petals at dawn,
joyful cry
*
transparent joy
for the gift of a new day,
crystal pearls
*
for breakfast
butterflies suck sweet nectar,
sip dew drops
*
~ Dulcina ~
The visit
the stairs whistle…
*
snow prints by her bed
whose kiss…?
*
~ Dulcina ~
Shell
For HaikuHeights – #190 – Home
Crescent smiles
silver moon in pond
with the pale face of my true love
two smiles reflected
*
crescent smiles floating
in liquid rippling darkness
stir with the stars
*
~ Dulcina ~
Valentine’s Vals
♥ ♥ ♥
This is my gift to my Gnomie on Saint Valentine’s Day.
More than two months have already passed, but all days are good to celebrate Love.
Most of the video is romantic, but you can also find humorous details.
It’s also got some funny extra bonus at the end.
It’s a Litany because it’s a kind of incantatory recitation praising the man I love, my Gnomie.
I have worked very hard with hundreds of images to create the proper atmosphere.
Almost all the lines of the poem I’ve written have got a word beginning with VAL, that’s why the title is Valentine’s Vals, where I play with waltzes, valses, valleys, vales and more names starting with the syllable Val-, such as Valéry, Valentino, Valdepeñas, valence or valise.
The music of two beautiful waltzes accompanies the images, as well as a part of the romantic song Endless Love, sung by its composer Lionel Richie & Diana Ross.
Mozart’s tender Lullaby closes the entire work.
It’s written in English, but you can hear my voice recitating it in Spanish.
Hope you enjoy it!
Thanks for visiting.
On Seynt Valentynes Day
♥ ♥ ♥ This lovely poem was my Gnomie´s Valentine this year ♥ ♥ ♥
in the cool of the garden
after supper…
…there is no merit
…in obedience to human traditions
…that supersede God’s commandments
…is it that i have heard it so much
…or misunderstand its intent
…that i ignore conviction?
a kiss and worship
from the heart,
the indwelling welling
to love, honor, and obey
is what i give you freely eagerly each day
offering unasked
this unmasked valentine
of sacrificial love
not fictitious romance
or Chaucer’s choice ideal
for to do so otherwise
unwise i would be
and but be betraying you with a kiss
in the cool of the garden
after supper.
On Our Fourth Anniversary
My Gnomie has created this wonderful composition
and has written this especial poem
for our Fourth Wedding Anniversary.
it was the soul of a boy
to have dreamed a dream
in day no less
of castles away in Spain,
out the window beyond the sky
past clouded classroom teachings.
sailing the airs of Beethoven´s Ninth
the niña the pinta and Santa María
seeking his mate to return to age
again but a boy in recitation.
together we two
these years of four
fifty years hence Iberia reached,
you are my Ode to Joy.
A Birdsong
The song sparrow of Amherst
This video is about the American poet Emily Dickinson.
Here you can find many symbols about her odd behavior, her obscure way of life, her seclusion.
There is a kind of legend around the figure of Emily Dickinson, many mysteries still unsolved.
Why was she always at home…? Why did she avoid most people…?
No matter what she did or didn´t do, she is an extraordinary poet and, to us, that is what counts after all!
During her quiet, reserved life, Emily Dickinson privately wrote some of the most important and persevering poetry in all of American history.
I created this video as a gift for my Gnome in Saint Valentine´s Day:
He loves Emily Dickinson…and me too!
Nieve en Cantabria
Him
Along the Way
Along the Way - A poem by my Gnome
San Valentín
Valles Pasiegos
Flores Pasiegas
False identity
It is a faithful traslation of a poem I wrote in Spanish.
It lives in my insides
though never revealed in x-ray.
Tries to escape through my mouth, my sex,
my eyes. I don’t let it go away.
Vomit me!
Spurt me!
Weep me!
Wants to break my heart
making little ice cubes of it.
Intents to erode my faith,
to poison me sweetly with his teasing voice.
His breath mists the soul, rusts the ideas.
Can feel it turning on in my brain.
Throbs, shouts, kicks out inside my core.
Knows I am stronger and rises up.
Scratches my very soul, bites my entrails.
Goes up and down my bones,
swings boldly from my ribs. Tickles my hips
wiggling them softly.
Crawls sultry in my bowels.
Sits down and jumps on my skull.
Gnaws, scratches, surrounds it.
Swims nude all along my veins. Burns.
Rises up to my throat.
I swallow it entire!
Never gives up. Never. It never gives up.
Release me!
Let me go!
Don’t hold me prisoner!
Don’t know if it’s wolf, vulture or hyena.
It is afraid of me and I am afraid of it.
I fasten his chains. He laughs. His guffaws hurt me
stabbing me deeply. I bleed.
We grew up together, angel and monster.
When I look at myself in the mirror I can see this ugly face.
With its sharp claws it wants to seaze my dreams;
that thing, the absolute owner of my worst nightmares,
screams – only I can hear it – screams.
It sizes me up. It goads me.
It stole my innocence. It takes me to the limit. It discourages me.
The doors of greediness opened wide for me.
I don’t let it out: it would kill me.
Both of us condemned to live the same life.
Who are you? Who am I…?
I am yourself, your wild ego.
Tonight I will escape.
You won’t be able to stop me with your nails or teeth.
Scriptum est. Go, go, go!
Then, only then, you will know who you really are.
The true you unveiled.
The candid dove turned out to be an asp.
You tried to strangle me, cut off my head.
Only death can separate us. Friends or foes, who knows…?
I will return to my heinous underworld.
Want to come with me or face the void forever?
Shut up!
Why are you lying to me?
(Why do I lie to myself?)
Advent’s here, Christmas coming
with purple, red and rose candles.
Four weeks with Christ in the fifth,
core of the evergreen wreath.
White in the Circle of Light,
a Love that will never die.
Advent’s the flame of our faith,
Sarum blue and golden bells.
Busy fairies – mothers cooking –
make mincemeat and whiskey pudding.
Vespers censing with our prayers,
carol singing fill the air.
We follow the bright star
with a pure, childlike heart.
Advent season, let’s prepare
for the birth of our Lord Jesus!
The stork’s bill-clappers
under stormy sky
the bell tower nests weeping –
the stork’s bill-clatters
~ Dulcina ~
