Vivir y morir
entre
un siglo más sin moralidad
un milenio más sin religión
una tierra más sin sobrevivientes
un vacío y una nada
entre cosas y aburrimiento
conviviendo con asombros y contorsiones
la vida . . . hoy
cae como la capa de un hombre insignificante
es el escudo de un hombre derrotado
la muerte . . . ya aquí
es una marea sin fin
un revoltijo sin color
la Nada y el Todo
juntos y solitarios
nuestra casa y nuestra tumba.
Limitations to discourse and knowledge.
The undeniable reality of language,
the sounds inside our heads,
the discourse within our skulls,
the rigorous mathematics of our technologies,
is a matter of great uncertainty.
The fact that we rely so deeply in the functions of language
seriously undermines our attempts
at concrete knowledge.
The discovery that knowledge is portrayed by language
or symbols
and that linguistic symbols are inappropriately
capable of representing perceived reality
is an astounding obstacle to our assessment
In more simple and human terms,
the realization that we obtain “acceptable” knowledge
in any form by its communication
either by mathematical symbol or linguistic form,
already makes it clear that we are submitting ourselves
This norm is adopted,
valued
and protected
by the establishment,
namely,
Science,
but once this establishment is submitted to the scrutiny of doubt,
we realize that Science or concrete, irrefutable knowledge
depends, and in fact,
survives on language and symbol,
thus we can begin doubting the certainty
and accuracy of its claims.
The first undeniable doubt is the perception
of the incapacity of language
or any symbol
of portraying reality.
Language is by its own nature, rigid, stiff and linear.
No matter how prodigious the scientist
or philosopher is,
the fact that he or she describes reality
by communicating a symbol,
already contributes to our suspicion:
the use of a rigid tool (language) to describe
The proof that language is inadequate to describe accurately reality
is in no way possible of being proved by language itself.
It must be realized, perceived, experienced by the thinker.
Just as Science seems to be the absolute truth to the world today,
we must never forget that Science is not an entity by itself;
Any human, no matter how committed to objectivity,
will still be influenced by subjective impulses, personal past experiences
Science has by this account two main weaknesses.
It utilizes linguistic symbol to portray an un-symbolic phenomenon;
That I must
never
be read
will be clear
from the vacuous
vocabulary
I must borrow from
and still
there are memories
or phantoms
of an uncertain past
the magic bricks
I thought I could
move with one
finger
the trees that watched
my infant
nothingness
I must never be read
my life is already
buried by dust
there are braver men
out there…
with fear
the embodiment
of disaster
that I call
“breathing”
is not
of any use…
there will be
peaceful silence
when this and other
poems
are no more…
they can’t surface
but sink
drop,
deeply,
disappear.
Stop.
Please stop.
Leave whatever you are doing right now,
and do me a favor.
Look out outside your window
(I truly hope you have a window)
to some small gilded leaf in the sun.
Stare at it,
there’s nothing romantic,
poetic or beautiful
about that leaf.
It is just there
motionless or
swinging with the wind
it is just there
almost too fragile
almost too irrelevant
but it is there.
It is drunk with something
it has something we don’t.
It is not brighter or duller than us
but it has more depth
than our little lives.
I was reading a poem by Bukowski
It is called “jam”
I read a few lines, pondered
watched outside the window
then resumed reading, while I was still
light-blind
suddenly, a tiny speck on the page
moved
it was green, it was alive
as my vision came to normal
I could see the insect
– wasn’t sure which kind –
the little one walked on the page
stepping over an “s” first
then a “w” but turned back
then came down to the word
“same”
and headed to the edge of the page.
I finished the poem, and thought to myself:
“This Bukowski is really good”
It was the first “Buck” poem
I ever read.
Since these are all eyes pouncing upon their own light
since these words are still in the air we breathe
nobody has yet seen the cruelty of today
nobody has measured the necessity of crying
to be sick and living
asphyxiated with desires, unclothed by opinion
the taste is in my mouth:
progress has vomited a sickly herd.
Be. Let whatever happens, come to pass.
To be: embraced by a field of happening.
There is nothing imperfect, even contradiction
and desire – let it all come.
Allow motes of dust to float
the heaviest pain to sink
there is nothing at all that does not belong –
let anger and irritation play their part
but release them and go on.
Close your eyes and dig deep.
Study the phenomenology of thoughts
the strange ocean of being
overpowering pain, elusive pleasures
Be. Embrace the field of happening.
I couldn’t lie
or distort the truth
when I tell you that seven seagulls
– not six or eight – I counted,
took flight in the direction of the moon
and that the water was slightly offering an insult
with its restlessness and simple undulations
I suddenly felt as at the bottom of a gap
a precipice that links two different lands
behind me everything that is
before me everything that could be
I was inside the great hole that separates the two
and it didn’t seem fair to build a bridge
sauntering from fact to possibility;
to cross this gap
I felt
requires the courage of a climb –
to create a new fact
demands a start from the lowest point
to climb up again in rags
to emerge from the deep
after the torture of darkness has engaged with us…
only then can the gap be closed!
Deshacer es crecer
dejar de hacer
como el deseo
inútil
cansado de existir
– el deseo hueco
sin contenido que seguir.
La vista cansada de mirar
el olfato
como un otoño olvidado
dejar de perseguir el aroma
del anochecer.
Quieto, alcanzar la pureza
una diminuta piedrita
solitaria en la oscuridad de un
monólogo
era esta tu verdad,
fragilidad
una transparencia que se percibe
como el terciopelo de un orgasmo.
Beyond Language 
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