Ode to Nadia!
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Ode to Nadia!
21-Jan-2008
a feline lost to certitude, servitude –breaking bounds,
Your memories, never forgotten
fleeing in the concentric, convulsive motion, churning in her soul,
shivering in the glamour of your past, echo
mirroring pools, dust wrinkled hand laborious campiseno
under the dust , striking blows seeking a breach in chains servitude, lost in her past
Discarded in her future
not known in her now
you are the clear torques pool of Cortez, never knew
mesmerized by love of land family Dios,
search out a path for me in this land bestowed to abusador
among the mirror pools reflecting a lost past – new fresh beginning.
at the flow of blood-red tears in my eyes
not see them in their kindred souls
not to take the well-worn path of history, conquest, labor - death
not see them in her shoes, kindred
silent gasp, pleading seeking a path – no response in those echos,
a hollow echo pitching back whipping her punishment, guilt, commune empty, a silent God with no more heads to turn for reply
burning orders, scorching dignity a man heavy hands no vision no mercy – a path on to his own
you - means to his end kindred spirits, a vessel to carry legacy, no echo no mirrors no wind
a duskless sun pours forth a song in the heat of the desert, an Eastern wind whipping through the reflecting turquoise pools a hand comes forth latching hard letting you
free , release, stand breath
you, alas
. sense in my veins pulsing a past vision coming true in a free trade wind of love, passion, screaming of empty souls, thundering with a final voice
coming through the Arch,
in time with my every heart beat I see in their kindred eyes
Grounding love in a worn but not broken pestle
holding my baseas they pour our past, our hope, sprinkling love on their souls
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Between going and staying the day wavers...Octavio Paz
by Nadias on Wed Jan 23, 2008 11:38 AM CSTin love with its own transparency.
The circular afternoon is now a bay
where the world in stillness rocks.
All is visible and all elusive,
all is near and can't be touched.
Paper, book, pencil, glass,
rest in the shade of their names.
Time throbbing in my temples repeats
the same unchanging syllable of blood.
The light turns the indifferent wall
into a ghostly theater of reflections.
I find myself in the middle of an eye,
watching myself in its blank stare.
The moment scatters. Motionless,
I stay and go: I am a pause.
Beautiful...
by Rosie T. on Tue Jan 22, 2008 01:05 PM CSThermoso...
And since you know.......
by Nadias on Mon Jan 21, 2008 06:11 PM CST"And since you know you cannot see yourself,
so well as by reflection, I , your glass,
will modestly discover to yourself,
that of yourself which you yet know not of.
-William Shakespeare
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