On the Seashore
I have come from faraway lands
carrying on my shoulders
nebulae that transgress
the reluctance and stupor of thorns and pus.
I walk to the rhythm of the horizon
silencing fables
that offer naked dawns.
In me the frost mirrors
shatter the gait
that has been left hanging
in yellow windows.
Incense is a distant scent
where it nests the childish voice
of figs and broken birds.
At the seashore:
a dream
a smile
some laborious hands
some lips that invite madness
a song by Serrat
a girl opening her wings in the face of fear
some eyes inventing another country.
Masks
We build masks,
pretend to reach the center of the root and its mysteries.
We build masks,
seduce death and its corsairs.
We build masks,
the echo of the cetaceans is suicidal on the lips.
We build masks,
the jade’s insurrection paints crucifixes on our temples.
We build masks,
hirsute stones paint doubts on our hands.
We build masks,
white spells annihilate dreams and entangle the tomorrow.
root
death
cetaceans
carrying on my shoulders
nebulae that transgress
the reluctance and stupor of thorns and pus.
silencing fables
that offer naked dawns.
shatter the gait
that has been left hanging
in yellow windows.
where it nests the childish voice
of figs and broken birds.
a dream
a smile
some laborious hands
some lips that invite madness
a song by Serrat
a girl opening her wings in the face of fear
some eyes inventing another country.
death
cetaceans
stones
spells are what we
finally turn out to be.
The door,
blackberry of dreams
Son,
the doors create dialogues between life and death.
The door’s bolt is
an eye that watches the laughter.
The hinges angels
with their aluminum song
rule the daily defeats.
The keys save us
from the whip of the streets.
An old woman paces
the sidewalks
from her hands escape butterflies that smell like sea.
A child catches
the wind
with his rags he builds guitars.
The doors are
horizontal voids
where time languishes
and the blackberry of dreams get anesthetized.
(From "Mares
en el corazón del perro", Editorial Cultura, Guatemala 2021)
(Translation by
Luz María López)
Author’s Bionote:
*Rudy Alfonzo Gomez Rivas. [Aguacatán, Huehuetenango, Guatemala. July 2, 1977].
Educator, writer, editor, cultural manager. Special Prize for "Garzón
Céspedes" Hyperbrief Theatrical Monologue, International Microfiction
Contest 2008, Madrid, Spain. First Mention in the International Poetry Contest
"Premio María Eugenia Vaz Ferreira” for the work "Aves de Papel”,
Montevideo, Uruguay 2008, Second place in the First International Literary
Contest "Lone Star", Houston, Texas 2020. He has published the poetry
books: “Raíz de agua”, “Orillas”, “Mares en el corazón del perro”, “Saudade”, “Arena
de la Muerte”, “Minuto cero”, “Imperecedera muerte”, “El silencio como invento”,
“Aves de papel”, “La fría hoguera de las palabras” and “Tiliches, Desheredados”
inquilinos in narrative. He has participated in congresses, meetings, book
fairs and festivals at national and international level. Director of the
literary magazine “Voces Convergentes” and “CAFEÍNA EDITORES” publishing house.
Founder and Organizer of the “Aguacatán International Poetry Festival FIPA”.
(Photo by Aldona Dzelicka)
the doors create dialogues between life and death.
rule the daily defeats.
from her hands escape butterflies that smell like sea.
with his rags he builds guitars.
where time languishes
and the blackberry of dreams get anesthetized.
