Poems by Ana Luisa Martínez

Ana Luisa Martinez

(Selected by the poet from the book Tatuajes)

words
antithesis of the surrounding

and the realities manifested by them 

consent a big fault:

to conceive a tsunami

of the unwavering

there will come words

with the sweetness of their tracks

to speak to flowers undressed by others’ hands

words flooding

the deadlock point

in the second before the darkness of the night

dulled in the fluid of the mouth

words born

in the ruins of the silence

to be weaved into the memory

of some mud-androids

macerated by the lines of a blank paper

that dazzle

words decrypting

a farewell of no time

for we are seduced by them

by anticipation

words

just words

still splashed by the anger  

of Prometeo

From no port

I ran away

from the angel of the wind

from the hands that drew my name

with braids of smoke

in a hurry

Unfastened I became

From the hearts that harmonize

with the obsession and the reasoning

From flaps that fog the meaning of the falls

that stationed in the center of my life

From adoration sores due to nobody

These precepts are not stitched with whispers

There you have those who I no longer perceive:

Mothers with milkless breasts

Nightlife men

Or women who - in the line of the restlessness-

their ovaries conceal

Emergent from no one’s port

towards others I departed

where my femininity

is an inexpressible material

World’s outline

The world with instincts

struck down by the breeze

Resonate its walls

but no one hears

the hum

of the stones

It dances airstreams

that leaf through the wind

between pauses

The world- gangrening the ache

of not being able to surrender-

submits itself to the mist of a story

that laughs at it every day.

This land -macerated by the time-

is stubborn!

Even if it has to suffer the atonement

-in a sip of its own core-

the other side of the truth

undresses.

The world – that by its overtiredness

is believed to be in decline-

peals its uterus- open for centuries -

to leave free

the indices of the masters

disguised as GOD.

Darkroom

In the darkroom

the curtain draws open to reveal the space

where poetry is an ongoing presence

Jewels rain down

Zigzagging

like a band of cheerful asterisks

The mountains imprison

the whimsical day

On this path’s reverse

Art sways in its cradle

A song of grace grows to cures

bruises

Among an embroidery of clouds

a soul with a name is conceived

Way beyond the skin

-where a fire nests without smoke-

Joy

bordering on ecstasy

overflows the twilights

Setu, August 2017