A petición de Teacher Perry...
1.-
Mother said:
“Yes, there are brown cookies
in the basket”;
that we can be friends .
Just as she used to say:
“there was a white rabbit in the moon...”
2.-
The blue eyes of the moon have something
to do with my hands.
So, I can do nothing to stop
So, I can do nothing to stop
them from being as they are.
3.-
Grandma
She used to show me words for me to learn from them.
So when she said SUN,
Grandma
She used to show me words for me to learn from them.
So when she said SUN,
I ussually saw a patient old man
with arms wide open to my answers...?
with arms wide open to my answers...?
"Moon"
and I noticed that nights have black holes
with white shinings
that go through them
"Day"
and gates wide open for the town to come visit
And as nigths and days start at the same place.
when she said
"SKY"...
I learn to fold the clouds, and put them under my pilow
and open my arms to fly...
I learn to fold the clouds, and put them under my pilow
and open my arms to fly...
4.-
I was told never to look at the yellow bows of the sun.
Never to sing
on rainy days,
and on lonely nigths
and on lonely nigths
to chew and forget my destiny.
Perhaps that’s Why I’m so identical to me.
Perhaps that’s Why I’m so identical to me.
5.-
Revival
When father died mother took black velvet bows
and laid them on the floor.
Revival
When father died mother took black velvet bows
and laid them on the floor.
After she threw away the tides...
The waves came through the back door
The waves came through the back door
and broke the kitchen in a million pieces.
Since then,
Since then,
there is a bow and a Light in the middle of the house…
“Never mind” she said: “I’m going to
“Never mind” she said: “I’m going to
buy a Black and White dress
for myself, and shoes for both.
From thence:
and for many years, I used to belive that new things
only came when someone died…
and for many years, I used to belive that new things
only came when someone died…
6.-
Revival 2
Revival 2
When she died sadness covered my day
But for once I wouldn’t cry
because I was never a good keeper of rain.
because I was never a good keeper of rain.
So
I washed my face,
I went to school and
took my place on the wall
took my place on the wall
and thought on my words…
that morning,
much later,
I remembered death;
was how she usually
was how she usually
called things that we always remenbered,
so do I…
so do I…
Inédito
Dlia Mc Donald Woolery
1 comentario:
Karla Araya te ha enviado un enlace a un blog:
I am really glad you have decided to post these poems. You are openning a new door for others to see your work and that of your people. I hope one day we could really say, as a country, of our people too.
Blog: La Coleccionista de Espejos
Entrada: Strange Language...
Enlace: http://themirrorcollector.blogspot.com/2011/05/strange-language.html
--
Asistido por Blogger
http://www.blogger.com/
Publicar un comentario