reb livingston

reb livingston:
"Lament for Fronting

O Damsel, how is your torso . . .? How you tiptoe! O Maiden, how is your torso . . .? How your slip shows! O accomplished woman whose benefit now annulled, how do you abide? O Nymphet whose downgrade unnerves your higher priestess, how is your torso. . . ? After your benefit annulled, now how do you abide? After your indulgence, your warmth and interest, how is your torso. . . ? Your tabernacle unworshipped, now how do you abide? Your altar turned to syrup, how is your torso . . .? You are not the prized tulip in a field reduced to turnip rounds. You cannot wakeup beloved in a meadow reeking fish. You cannot pose as impune to those who sowed before you."

Alfonsina Storni

TU ME QUIERES BLANCA:

"Tú me quieres alba,
Me quieres de espumas,
Me quieres de nácar.
Que sea azucena
Sobre todas, casta.
De perfume tenue.
Corola cerrada

Ni un rayo de luna
Filtrado me haya.
Ni una margarita
Se diga mi hermana.
Tú me quieres nívea,
Tú me quieres blanca,
Tú me quieres alba.

Tú que hubiste todas
Las copas a mano,
De frutos y mieles
Los labios morados.
Tú que en el banquete
Cubierto de pámpanos
Dejaste las carnes
Festejando a Baco.
Tú que en los jardines
Negros del Engaño
Vestido de rojo
Corriste al Estrago.

Tú que el esqueleto
Conservas intacto
No sé todavía
Por cuáles milagros,
Me pretendes blanca
(Dios te lo perdone),
Me pretendes casta
(Dios te lo perdone),
¡Me pretendes alba!

Huye hacia los bosques,
Vete a la montaña;
Límpiate la boca;
Vive en las cabañas;
Toca con las manos
La tierra mojada;
Alimenta el cuerpo
Con raíz amarga;
Bebe de las rocas;
Duerme sobre escarcha;
Renueva tejidos
Con salitre y agua;
Habla con los pájaros
Y lévate al alba.
Y cuando las carnes
Te sean tornadas,
Y cuando hayas puesto
En ellas el alma
Que por las alcobas
Se quedó enredada,
Entonces, buen hombre,
Preténdeme blanca,
Preténdeme nívea,
Preténdeme casta."

Rosalía de Castro

Poemas: "

1

De la torpe ignorancia que confunde
lo mezquino y lo inmenso;
de la dura injusticia del más alto,
de la saña mortal de los pequeños,
¡no es posible que huyáis! cuando os conocen
y os buscan, como busca el zorro hambriento
a la indefensa tórtola en los campos;
y al querer esconderos
de sus cobardes iras, ya en el monte,
en la ciudad o en el retiro estrecho,
¡ahí va!, exclaman, ¡ahí va!, y allí os insultan
y señalan con íntimo contento
cual la mano implacable y vengativa
señala al triste y fugitivo reo.


2

Cayó por fin en la espumosa y turbia
recia corriente, y descendió al abismo
para no subir más a la serena
y tersa superficie. En lo más íntimo
del noble corazón ya lastimado,
resonó el golpe doloroso y frío
que ahogando la esperanza
hace abatir los ánimos altivos,
y plegando las alas torvo y mudo,
en densa niebla se envolvió su espíritu."

ILHAN BERK

ILHAN BERK


Slowly quietly gold is collected under your command
slowly quietly
Slowly quietly wheat is distributed under your command

slowly quietly
Slowly quietly people's bread is served out under your command

slowly quietly.

Gisele Prassinos

Gisele Prassinos? - Women and surrealism - tribe.net:

"blackday


One day, it was cold.

Over the river spread a white sheet, hiding the uniformly somber hues of that day.

When night fell, a man came up out of the water. He made for a hollow in the stone, where already a dog had taken refuge. In the light from a luminous corner of the sky, I could make the man out: he wore on his head an immense funnel of string, delicately worked and adorned with sharp pebbles, which he had had a tinker friend make, in exchange for a ball of red thread."




the young persecuted girl


A young girl who was in bed was afraid lest a butterfly she saw that morning came to wake her. Before going to bed, she put on a necklace of fresh chervil and little dull glass ladybirds, striped with yellow wax cloth. She was very proud of it and thought the butterfly wouldn't dare touch here when it saw that she was not alone.




my sister


I know my sister smells of bananas. Her large hair, when it rubs my nose, has the ordinary smell of missed dessert. But when she turns toward me and her mouth opens to smile at me, I like the new smell so much I feel like biting her lips and tongue. Underneath there is something that cracks and carries you away.

Soon my sister will fall asleep. I take her pointed arms and cross them over her eyes so that the last light will close them altogether. But she keeps smiling triumphantly at me and the strong odor rises, so strong that suddenly I think of killing my sister in order to take it from her.

I sink my knife in, cutting through her pretty gown. Under the sheets her hands are cold and white. Mine, too alive, have no strength, but I see in her hand, a little puckered fruit made of shiny rose fragments that I melt between my fingers.

Paul Scheerbart

3 Novels:

"The rhythm represents the physiological emotion inseparable from the idea. Phonic values are embodied irrespective of the semantic aspect of the word. In his book 'L'Arte dei Rumori' ('The art of noises') (1913), Luigi Russolo, futurist, noted that 'there exists in language a wealth of timbre that no orchestra possesses... nature has endowed the instrument of the human voice with unique timbre-sounds. ... poets do not yet know how to derive from this inexhaustible source those expressive and emotive elements capable of giving their message a human resonance'."

Albert Ehrenstein

Magic Tales:

"THE EIGHT STATIONS OF SUFFERING

Image 12

1. Smyrna. Weakened by the privations of the long sea journey, the poet, before entering the city, dyes the gray hair on his head and beard. Sings for his very bread in the public squares. But the people laugh at him – he had a bad hair job; he ended up with green hair and beard. Exhausted, the poor beggar-musician, followed by children making fun of him, sits on a bench in the city park of Smyrna, falls asleep propped against the bottom of the city wall. Heedless of the sign, 'This area is for public-minded citizens,' a camel reaches over the wall and, attracted by the green color, devours Homer’s hair down to the scalp. After that he wears a wig."