martes, 29 de diciembre de 2015

At the bottom / En el fondo

                                Del Proyecto Ephemera con la ilustradora Viviana Hinojosa
There was a little wooden box at the bottom of the sea. Shining. With little pulses was calling day and night, an enthralling light inside.
Many knew about the little box. Some swam, some dived to the bottom trying to get closer, to find out what was that little light inside.
Some reached it, some opened the box, some saw the light inside it and swam towards it. Some held it, dearly. All remained inside, dazzled.



Había una pequeña caja de madera en el fondo del mar. Brillando. Con pequeños pulsos llamaba día y noche, con su cautivadora luz.
Muchos sabían sobre la cajita. Algunos nadaron, otros bucearon hacia el fondo tratando de acercarse para saber qué era aquella luz adentro.

Algunos se acercaron, la abrieron, vieron la luz, nadaron hacia ella y la tomaron, amorosamente. Todos permanecieron dentro, cautivados.

miércoles, 23 de diciembre de 2015

The cloud is acting up

The cloud is falling down
and nobody sees it
the cloud is leaking
the cloud is oozing

and everybody is shopping
gossiping
laughing

The cloud is         acting up
breaking down
howling

am I the only one realizing?

look

it is there

and nobody sees it

The cloud is almost down
the cloud is screaming
going vertical
going hysterical
going mechanical
going abysmal
almost medieval
tragicomical indeed


and nobody sees it.

Jakob Wagner
Sea Of Clouds
Poem originally published in tweets as @minafiction.

martes, 15 de diciembre de 2015

This light

This light
that speaks and goes quiet
this light rising
soaring
this light whispering

barely shinning
this light that entices

this light between us


being born.


jueves, 10 de diciembre de 2015

No pasa nada

En algún lugar, la arena del reloj se atasca, regresa, fluye más despacio. Su flujo de silicatos corroe el cristal, su lentitud ulcera.
Allá, más lejos, la nube gira en su propio eje, su derrotero se incendia, su estela sube a las estrellas y la lluvia tarda siglos en caer.
Cerca del horizonte el sol no se esconde, ni el beso se consuma, ni la esperanza huele a mañana. Solo la luna, agotada, sigue su recorrido.
En algún lugar, la ola se detiene en el aire, los sargazos y los caracoles se pudren antes de secarse. La curva de la ola se vuelve polvo.
Dentro de algún tornado el aire suspendido se enmohece, el corazón no explota, el viento huele a futuro y las ráfagas gotean muy lentamente.
Allá arriba en el cielo, un mar de galaxias se frenan al unísono. Solo se escucha un hondo rechinar de astros, un cauce que de pronto flota.
En el bosque, cada gota de humo es una crisálida que espera un verano, una metamorfosis que va y viene, un segundo de un tiempo detenido.
Más allá hay una noche de quemantes caricias, de apresurados besos que se evaporan en la piel. Hay adormilados dedos que rozan el amanecer.
Y el viento no ulula ni se eleva, solo se queda ahí (quietecito), con su olor a moho y hollín, con sus ganas de ser huracán y suave monzón.
Hay un mar con olas suspendidas, con sargazos que echan raíces, donde los peces tienen agallas como alas y temen caer a las profundidades.
Dentro de la lluvia las palabras no son pronunciadas, los secretos siguen guardados, las confesiones son de cristal. Nada llega a su destino.

En la profundidad de las trincheras, las placas tectónicas no se mueven, el deseo no encuentra puerto y el mar no oscila. Nada, no sucede nada.


miércoles, 2 de diciembre de 2015

Hidden shards

Shards of perfume and broken words
are living peacefully
in this old walls
shards of love and tears
shards of time together.

Infinitesimal and mute
shards of lust and passion
slithering down in every corner
making metallic noises
blooming moaning shards.

Shards of forgotten hopes and pencil marks
have left their mark
in this wooden table
dark and wishful
black shards of light.

Covered with mould and time
shards of promises and never ending love
bear the rain
bear the sun
hopelessly hidden in park benches.

Shards of love and tenderness
light and winged
rose and exploded
leaving opalescent marks
on every single window
and every mirror.

Sharp, cold, boiling and alive
shards of hate and bile are looking at you
endlessly and bold
still shooting at you
after all these years .

Shards of self delusion float
rise & form clouds and storms
inside our houses
and workplaces
their lightning blinding us
killing us all

Keep falling like daggers in the rain
shards of fear and anxiety
deeper and deeper
keep entering the same place
like an endless sting

Shards of words
keep whispering on the walls
in crevices and over floors
keep mixing with the dust
keep murmuring
tiny shards of sound

Floating like dust and covering it all
shards of dreams and wishes
shards of diamantine
shards of mist

Shards of kisses and caresses
stay with us forever
mourning over our skin
dressing us
protecting us

tiny lively shards.


Originally published as tweets as @minafiction.

martes, 17 de noviembre de 2015

La casa de polvo

Veo la luz encendida en aquel cuarto                    avanzo
una vela al final del pasillo un pequeño sol que brilla
abro una puerta abro otra sigo caminando veo una sombra
la luz del sol entra en aquel cuarto que se llena de neblina
un cuarto se abre y una cascada sale del armario             me acerco
el cuarto se hace pequeño salgo de prisa la puerta se cierra
encuentro pierdo me pierdo siento la luz apago la vela
intento juego descubro exploro mi mano acaricia la pared
avanzo y otro cuarto se ha llenado de agua        salto
el cuarto se llena de humo y otras luces se encienden
veo escenas que fascinan ojos que miran palabras sonidos
los ecos engañan y guían y el tic-tac que se vuelve tap
el cuarto se oscurece por completo el techo sube          bailo
espero una hora dos horas una semana un día un mes
en otro cuarto una criatura me mira a los ojos cuando paso
le sostengo la mirada escucho una puerta que se abre
los pasillos se mueven las puertas se abren y cierran     juego
al final del pasillo otro cuarto se incendia y truena
camino de un cuarto a otro de un piso a otro hablo en voz baja
describo interpreto camino sin rumbo me vuelvo a perder
la casa se ensancha y se encoge me siento observo       pienso
los cuartos se intercambian escucho voces y ruidos la casa rechina
camino de prisa me apuro corro los cuartos cambian y se mueven
toco una puerta y nadie abre toco otra puerta y se abre de lleno
me deslizo hacia arriba por el barandal de la escalera    exploro
abro una puerta otra casa que crece aparece dentro el pasillo se ensancha
sigo caminando salto camino me arrastro el piso serpentea
ruidos historias palabras luz imágenes y el silencio que suena tic-tac
no hay nadie detrás no hay nadie delante nadie habla                 escucho
no existe el tiempo no existe el futuro no existe el pasado no hay nada
me detengo retrocedo avanzo giro vuelo me arrastro camino nado
una vez y otra vez y una vez más sigo caminando corriendo jugando
un pasillo un cuarto la casa la escalera otra vez                 espero.


martes, 22 de septiembre de 2015

Still behind - Vanaheim - The nine realms

She is behind
yet she keeps walking

she follows him everywhere
with the sun around her neck

she owns the day and the night
                yet she is still behind

her golden tears are falling
                yet she keeps flying

she can see the future
she can see it all
she is powerful
she is resourceful

but she is behind

she is still behind.


--------------------------------------------------
You can read (and listen at) the poem at the Artipeeps webpage here.

This poem is part of my online collaboration with Nicky Mortlock´s The Nine Realms project that began on October 2014 and that is inspired by the Norse Sagas (specifically the 9 realms of norse mythology). This project involves near-on 50 Twitter poets, arts, musicians and sculptors, and will run online for 9 months culminating in a poetry, art and music exhibition( and even a Viking boat!) in Hanse House King’s Lynn, Norfolk, UK across the Heritage Open Day weekend, in September 2015. 

miércoles, 16 de septiembre de 2015

Don´t follow me - Nifelheim - The nine realms

Somehow I feel
that you mustn’t come
it is so cold over here
my feet are freezing
the snow is falling

my love
please, don’t follow me

somehow I feel
that I might be lost
the rivers are frozen
I am having nightmares
I don’t know what is this

my love
please, don’t follow me

somehow I feel
that this place is poisoned
the land stinks of cadaver
I feel threatened
I feel lonely I feel lost

my love
please, don’t follow me

somehow I feel
there is no end
the mist is overwhelming
I feel guilt and regret
this is all too much to bare

my love

please


don’t follow me.
==================================
You can read (and listen at) the poem at the Artipeeps webpage here.

This poem is part of my online collaboration with Nicky Mortlock´s The Nine Realms project that began on October 2014 and that is inspired by the Norse Sagas (specifically the 9 realms of norse mythology). This project involves near-on 50 Twitter poets, arts, musicians and sculptors, and will run online for 9 months culminating in a poetry, art and music exhibition( and even a Viking boat!) in Hanse House King’s Lynn, Norfolk, UK across the Heritage Open Day weekend, in September 2015. 

martes, 8 de septiembre de 2015

Little they know - Nidavellir - The nine realms

Petrol or spark
light or lime
            little they know

sunshine and stone
magic and knowledge
            little they know

work work work
little they know

hiding in the darkness
little they know

coming going knowing
little they know

creating binding transforming
little they know

now you see it, now you don’t
            little they know

about all they know
            little they know.

..............................................................................
You can read (and listen at) the poem at the Artipeeps webpage here.

This poem is part of my online collaboration with Nicky Mortlock´s The Nine Realms project that began on October 2014 and that is inspired by the Norse Sagas (specifically the 9 realms of norse mythology). This project involves near-on 50 Twitter poets, arts, musicians and sculptors, and will run online for 9 months culminating in a poetry, art and music exhibition( and even a Viking boat!) in Hanse House King’s Lynn, Norfolk, UK across the Heritage Open Day weekend, in September 2015. 


miércoles, 2 de septiembre de 2015

It is me - Muspelheim - The nine realms

It’s me riding over permafrost
It’s me
                burning
                melting ice and life
                burning
                               burning

fire burning deep inside
it’s me
                setting everything on fire
rage riding over fire
restlessness riding over ice
                it’s me
again
I have enough fire
                to burn thousand suns
                to consume the earth
it’s me
                burning
it’s me
                and I am waiting
                to set the world on fire.
It’s me
wind made of fire

get ready to glow
get ready to start all over again
it’s me
                again

                               burning.
°°°°°°°°°°°°°°°°°°°°°°°°°°°°°°°°°°°°°°°°°°°°°°°°°°°°°°°°
You can read (and listen at) the poem at the Artipeeps webpage here.

This poem is part of my online collaboration with Nicky Mortlock´s The Nine Realms project that began on October 2014 and that is inspired by the Norse Sagas (specifically the 9 realms of norse mythology). This project involves near-on 50 Twitter poets, arts, musicians and sculptors, and will run online for 9 months culminating in a poetry, art and music exhibition( and even a Viking boat!) in Hanse House King’s Lynn, Norfolk, UK across the Heritage Open Day weekend, in September 2015. 

miércoles, 26 de agosto de 2015

It is there - Midgard - The nine realms


Can you see it?

It is there with its days and its nights
with its darkness and its light
with its cold and its warmth
with its love and its hate
with its poison and its cure

can you see it?

right there in the middle
right there by the sea
right there being born
right there being destroyed

can you see it?

it is the place that falls
it is the place that rises
it is the place far away from the gods

can you see it?
it is right over there

it is the place
it is there
it is life

it is us.

--------------------------------------

You can read (and listen at) the poem at the Artipeeps webpage here.

This poem is part of my online collaboration with Nicky Mortlock´s The Nine Realms project that began on October 2014 and that is inspired by the Norse Sagas (specifically the 9 realms of norse mythology). This project involves near-on 50 Twitter poets, arts, musicians and sculptors, and will run online for 9 months culminating in a poetry, art and music exhibition( and even a Viking boat!) in Hanse House King’s Lynn, Norfolk, UK across the Heritage Open Day weekend, in September 2015. 

martes, 18 de agosto de 2015

Frostbitten mind - Jotunheim - Nine realms

Through darkness
and eternal sunshine

darkness and brightness
like never-ending dreams

frostbitten mind
awaits in another dream

thoughts
repeated

the pebble falls inside your mind

thoughts
                               repeated

thoughts
being broken
tongues
being broken

day and night
the mind is playing tricks

the night is long
the day is long

time stopping

the mind is flying in circles.
-------------------------------------------
You can read (and listen at) the poem at the Artipeeps webpage here.

This poem is part of my online collaboration with Nicky Mortlock´s The Nine Realms project that began on October 2014 and that is inspired by the Norse Sagas (specifically the 9 realms of norse mythology). This project involves near-on 50 Twitter poets, arts, musicians and sculptors, and will run online for 9 months culminating in a poetry, art and music exhibition( and even a Viking boat!) in Hanse House King’s Lynn, Norfolk, UK across the Heritage Open Day weekend, in September 2015. 

lunes, 10 de agosto de 2015

Around the corner - Helheim - The nine realms

Just around the corner

there is confusion
and the land shakes
there are cries
and it is raining
there is angst
and the land is dry
there is hope
and nothing seems to change
there is money
and nothing has a value
there is lust
and there are children disappearing
there is wind
and the three is shaking
there is greed
and the wolf is running free
there is knowledge
and we cannot see the sun
there is freedom
and there is nowhere to go
there is ice melting
and the winter is never-ending.

just around the corner

                there is hell.
---------------------------------------------
This poem is part of my online collaboration with Nicky Mortlock´s The Nine Realms project that began on October 2014 and that is inspired by the Norse Sagas (specifically the 9 realms of norse mythology). This project involves near-on 50 Twitter poets, arts, musicians and sculptors, and will run online for 9 months culminating in a poetry, art and music exhibition( and even a Viking boat!) in Hanse House King’s Lynn, Norfolk, UK across the Heritage Open Day weekend, in September 2015. 

martes, 4 de agosto de 2015

Alone and afraid - Asgard - The nine realms

All alone
                smashing stones
                carving wood
                playing with gold
all alone
                behind a broken wall
                waiting for another spell

all afraid
                that the world might change
                that more giants might come
all afraid
                and the wolf is howling
                and the serpent is rattling
                and they can hear the giants’ steps

all alone

all afraid.

-------------------------------
You can read (and listen at) the poem at the Artipeeps website here.

This poem is part of my online collaboration with Nicky Mortlock´s The Nine Realms project that began on October 2014 and that is inspired by the Norse Sagas (specifically the 9 realms of norse mythology). This project involves near-on 50 Twitter poets, arts, musicians and sculptors, and will run online for 9 months culminating in a poetry, art and music exhibition( and even a Viking boat!) in Hanse House King’s Lynn, Norfolk, UK across the Heritage Open Day weekend, in September 2015.