vida invisible

Dónde me llevan
todos estos versos
dónde me dejarán plantado
en qué sombra
de cuál solipsismo
se derraman palabras
como gotas de sangre vital
por dónde
la inmaterial sustancia
de un sueño
por dónde cursan
los ríos
de una aventura
en qué tinta
quedan plasmados
los irreversibles hechos
de una invisible


Poesía Contemporánea


sentimiento existencia

Y este dedo
que se desliza
debajo del ojo
sintiendo la masa
de piel
como una tierra
hecha de carne
todo es todo
hay que cerrar los ojos
cerrar los ojos
para tenerlo todo
cae de mi frente
el sudor frío
de un doloroso éctasis
si no es santidad
debe ser
una corriente
emanando de
los vientos primordiales
que zumbaron
entre los hemisferios
de la primera noche,
hay que cerrar los ojos
y sentir
la carne con su sangre
la música con su vino
la vida con su muerte
todo con todo
a las orillas
de un silencio.

a possible death

dreaming death

The end
had come
plummeting to the ground
my fingers spread
making one last contact
with the sidewalk
the rough cement
at the base
of this ultimate world
I was dying
my heart had only a few
beats left
before the entire
intoxication of life
would vanish
and I
touching this world
for a last time
on the street side
the hard grey cement
the pain and the beauty
the last sight of sky
the last gust of air
all the strange
perplexing realities
within the earth
that was holding me
for the very last time.

in the fog

Pablo Saborio in Snow

Inaccessible trees
stand in the fog
as the limits to my world,
a fog dense and metaphysical
trees alien as my cavernous thoughts
a few brave lifeless sticks emerge from the snow
the milky wind brushing
whitening them slowly
with the impassible oblivion
that has set in,
an ivory spell
led astray into this cold nook
of washed away eternity,
while I’m encapsulated
in the immobility
of this white extraneous soul
a pleasing despair
that is felt
after each
footstep in the ice.

Nihilistic Poetry

excerpts of reality

Poetic Scenery

What is there in this cave
a view to open lands
an earth, deranged and full
but an earth nonetheless
where nothing belongs,
above the expanse
full too of this emptiness
a quiet eternity
lost of words
almost a loose world
the mote of dust
under the murky ray of a sun
unreachable by time,
fragmentary boundless
as the white untrammeled snow
over the excerpts of reality
with its history
of the purest subjectivity,
with its wishes
of weightless dreams,
in this cave
on human thoughts
with an excess of time
and the open lands to forever
left untouched.


More Poetic Scenery: Nihilistic Poetry


snowy streets

I release a deep breath
unawares of anything
I’ve been away
weaving dreams
like a curing madness
the petty circumference of my desire
impels me to
not one finger
an inertia comparable
to an everlasting god
that has lived a thousand infinities,
in the deepest streets
in the coldest thoughts
I am a reckless survivor
dreaming in poetry
as a small pebble
tucked away
under the entire
of the universe.



I turn my head
after days:
the streets are covered with snow.



I’ve been unaware
like the boy
quietly placing a dot
after every sentence
of lyrical self-absorption:
the consequence
of being



nihilistic poetry