Poetry International Poetry International
Poem

Jordi Doce

A LIFE


1. Here and now. Hopelessly. Blind thrashing.
2. Born with a sentence engraved on each palms. The sentence on the left hand was written right side up; that on the left, upside down. When he closed one hand into a fist, the palm of the other shone.
3. Chosen at random. Unsteady and changeable. Filament of blood, brief as the falling of a leaf.
4. She was an extension of his body. She was the absolute limit of his body. Heads and tails, the very coin to enter into the world.
5. Uncertain child. Dipped his feet into the water shyly. With his every laugh, the tide rose and covered the reefs of time.
6. Things weren’t what they seemed. He wanted to help them.
7. Animals at every moment, eating from his hand. There in the distance, eternity. A sky in which marvels always take place, a face that watches and speaks words at him. Great waves batter the beach and he hears the beating of his blood, resounding and senseless.
8. Everything was difficult. He had to stop before speaking. He had to fall silent before taking wing.
9. This thinking creating bows in the void. This thinking stepping on the waters of the lake. That beautiful weightlessness.
10. He celebrated his coming of age watching the clouds pass by. He was unable to distinguish any shapes.
11. Someone wanted to convince him of the opposite. He let himself be courted.
12. Processions of ants collected his sentences and broke them in twos and threes. Each one chose their favourite and carried it home between their teeth, sweetening it with nocturnal secretions, the bile of suspicions.
13. The path found itself crossed by bridges that came and went in all directions, and these were women, naked and arching into the most varied poses, proudly displaying the magnetized shadow of their sex.
14. If he could just stop. If he could just hold, quivering bird, time between his hands.
15. Head in the clouds. Books neatly ordered on their shelves. The accordion of sex enlivening the hours, its systoles and diastoles. Heart forewarned.
16. Ghosts gnawed the city and there was no place left for the living. He touched wood. He ate without restraint.
17. Clouds of pollen in the slant light of afternoon. A subtle air moves the acacias and wakens retinas, glimmerings, belated lusts. You are my dream, green dream of existence, frail but enduring.
18. Being invisible is not so hard, he thought. To walk through the park so that even the roots seem to hide themselves. The children see through me with their games. The women are tired of their parents. I am a handful of ash that awaits a favourable wind. I am the hand chosen to scatter myself.
19. What use imagination. The monsters became too real.
20. The first thing he saw was a blink, the two ingots of its towers glinting in the sun. The promised city. At first he didn’t want to look at it. All immense, unreal like a crude mirage. Only his steps spoke no lie. Only his steps condemned him.
21. Blind thrashing. Hopelessly. Here and now. At last.
22. Nothing happened. Nothing ever stopped happening.

UNA VIDA

UNA VIDA

1. Aquí y ahora. Sin remedio. Ciegos embates.
2. Nació con sendas frases grabadas en las palmas de sus manos. La frase de la mano izquierda estaba escrita del derecho; la frase de la diestra, del revés. Cuando doblaba una de sus manos en un puño la palma de la otra resplandecía.
3. Escogido al azar. Inseguro y mudable. Filamento de sangre, breve como el caer de una hoja.
4. Ella era una extensión de su cuerpo. Ella era el límite absoluto de su cuerpo. Cara y cruz, moneda tácita para entrar al mundo.
5. Niño incierto. Se mojaba los pies en el agua, tímidamente. Cada vez que reía, una extensa marea bañaba el arrecife de las horas.
6. Las cosas no eran lo que parecían. Quiso ayudarlas.
7. Animales a cada instante, comiendo de su mano. Allá lejos, la eternidad. Un cielo en el que siempre ocurren maravillas, un rostro que le observa y al que dice palabras. Grandes olas golpean la playa y él escucha el latir de su sangre, rotundo y sin sentido.
8. Todo era difícil. Tenía que pararse antes de hablar. Tenía que callar antes de alzar el vuelo.
9. Este pensar haciendo lazadas en el vacío. Este pensar pisando las aguas del lago. La bella ingravidez.
10. Celebró su mayoría de edad viendo pasar las nubes. No logró distinguir ninguna forma.
11. Alguien quería convencerle de lo contrario. Se dejó cortejar.
12. Procesiones de hormigas recogían sus frases y las partían en dos y en tres. Cada cual escogía su preferida, se la llevaba a casa entre los dientes, la edulcoraba con salivas nocturnas, la hiel de las sospechas.
13. El camino se hallaba atravesado por puentes que iban y venían en todas direcciones, y eran mujeres arqueadas en las posturas más disímiles, desnudas, mostrando con orgullo la penumbra imantada de sus sexos.
14. Si tan sólo pudiera detenerse. Si tan sólo pudiera tener, pájaro palpitante, el tiempo entre sus manos.
15. La cabeza en las nubes. Libros bien ordenados en las estanterías. El acordeón del sexo animando las horas, sus sístoles y diástoles. Corazón prevenido.
16. Los fantasmas roían la ciudad y no había lugar para los vivos. Tocó madera. Comió sin continencia.
17. Nubes de polen a la luz oblicua de la tarde. Un aire sutil mueve las acacias y despierta retinas, vislumbres, lujurias tardías. Tú eres mi sueño, verde sueño de existencia, frágil pero perdurable.
18. Ser invisible no es tan arduo, pensó. Caminar por el parque y que hasta las raíces parezcan esconderse. Los niños me atraviesan con sus juegos. Las mujeres están cansadas de sus padres. Soy un puñado de ceniza que espera un viento propicio. Soy la mano escogida para aventarme.
19. Para qué la imaginación. Los monstruos se volvieron demasiado reales.
20. Lo primero que vio fue un parpadeo, los dos lingotes de sus torres centelleando al sol. La ciudad prometida. Al principio no quiso verla. Todo inmenso, irreal como un burdo espejismo. Sólo sus pasos no decían mentira. Sólo sus pasos le condenaban.
21. Ciegos embates. Sin remedio. Aquí y ahora. Al fin.
22. Nada ocurrió. Nada dejó nunca de ocurrir.
Close

A LIFE


1. Here and now. Hopelessly. Blind thrashing.
2. Born with a sentence engraved on each palms. The sentence on the left hand was written right side up; that on the left, upside down. When he closed one hand into a fist, the palm of the other shone.
3. Chosen at random. Unsteady and changeable. Filament of blood, brief as the falling of a leaf.
4. She was an extension of his body. She was the absolute limit of his body. Heads and tails, the very coin to enter into the world.
5. Uncertain child. Dipped his feet into the water shyly. With his every laugh, the tide rose and covered the reefs of time.
6. Things weren’t what they seemed. He wanted to help them.
7. Animals at every moment, eating from his hand. There in the distance, eternity. A sky in which marvels always take place, a face that watches and speaks words at him. Great waves batter the beach and he hears the beating of his blood, resounding and senseless.
8. Everything was difficult. He had to stop before speaking. He had to fall silent before taking wing.
9. This thinking creating bows in the void. This thinking stepping on the waters of the lake. That beautiful weightlessness.
10. He celebrated his coming of age watching the clouds pass by. He was unable to distinguish any shapes.
11. Someone wanted to convince him of the opposite. He let himself be courted.
12. Processions of ants collected his sentences and broke them in twos and threes. Each one chose their favourite and carried it home between their teeth, sweetening it with nocturnal secretions, the bile of suspicions.
13. The path found itself crossed by bridges that came and went in all directions, and these were women, naked and arching into the most varied poses, proudly displaying the magnetized shadow of their sex.
14. If he could just stop. If he could just hold, quivering bird, time between his hands.
15. Head in the clouds. Books neatly ordered on their shelves. The accordion of sex enlivening the hours, its systoles and diastoles. Heart forewarned.
16. Ghosts gnawed the city and there was no place left for the living. He touched wood. He ate without restraint.
17. Clouds of pollen in the slant light of afternoon. A subtle air moves the acacias and wakens retinas, glimmerings, belated lusts. You are my dream, green dream of existence, frail but enduring.
18. Being invisible is not so hard, he thought. To walk through the park so that even the roots seem to hide themselves. The children see through me with their games. The women are tired of their parents. I am a handful of ash that awaits a favourable wind. I am the hand chosen to scatter myself.
19. What use imagination. The monsters became too real.
20. The first thing he saw was a blink, the two ingots of its towers glinting in the sun. The promised city. At first he didn’t want to look at it. All immense, unreal like a crude mirage. Only his steps spoke no lie. Only his steps condemned him.
21. Blind thrashing. Hopelessly. Here and now. At last.
22. Nothing happened. Nothing ever stopped happening.

A LIFE


1. Here and now. Hopelessly. Blind thrashing.
2. Born with a sentence engraved on each palms. The sentence on the left hand was written right side up; that on the left, upside down. When he closed one hand into a fist, the palm of the other shone.
3. Chosen at random. Unsteady and changeable. Filament of blood, brief as the falling of a leaf.
4. She was an extension of his body. She was the absolute limit of his body. Heads and tails, the very coin to enter into the world.
5. Uncertain child. Dipped his feet into the water shyly. With his every laugh, the tide rose and covered the reefs of time.
6. Things weren’t what they seemed. He wanted to help them.
7. Animals at every moment, eating from his hand. There in the distance, eternity. A sky in which marvels always take place, a face that watches and speaks words at him. Great waves batter the beach and he hears the beating of his blood, resounding and senseless.
8. Everything was difficult. He had to stop before speaking. He had to fall silent before taking wing.
9. This thinking creating bows in the void. This thinking stepping on the waters of the lake. That beautiful weightlessness.
10. He celebrated his coming of age watching the clouds pass by. He was unable to distinguish any shapes.
11. Someone wanted to convince him of the opposite. He let himself be courted.
12. Processions of ants collected his sentences and broke them in twos and threes. Each one chose their favourite and carried it home between their teeth, sweetening it with nocturnal secretions, the bile of suspicions.
13. The path found itself crossed by bridges that came and went in all directions, and these were women, naked and arching into the most varied poses, proudly displaying the magnetized shadow of their sex.
14. If he could just stop. If he could just hold, quivering bird, time between his hands.
15. Head in the clouds. Books neatly ordered on their shelves. The accordion of sex enlivening the hours, its systoles and diastoles. Heart forewarned.
16. Ghosts gnawed the city and there was no place left for the living. He touched wood. He ate without restraint.
17. Clouds of pollen in the slant light of afternoon. A subtle air moves the acacias and wakens retinas, glimmerings, belated lusts. You are my dream, green dream of existence, frail but enduring.
18. Being invisible is not so hard, he thought. To walk through the park so that even the roots seem to hide themselves. The children see through me with their games. The women are tired of their parents. I am a handful of ash that awaits a favourable wind. I am the hand chosen to scatter myself.
19. What use imagination. The monsters became too real.
20. The first thing he saw was a blink, the two ingots of its towers glinting in the sun. The promised city. At first he didn’t want to look at it. All immense, unreal like a crude mirage. Only his steps spoke no lie. Only his steps condemned him.
21. Blind thrashing. Hopelessly. Here and now. At last.
22. Nothing happened. Nothing ever stopped happening.
Sponsors
Gemeente Rotterdam
Nederlands Letterenfonds
Stichting Van Beuningen Peterich-fonds
Prins Bernhard cultuurfonds
Lira fonds
Versopolis
J.E. Jurriaanse
Gefinancierd door de Europese Unie
Elise Mathilde Fonds
Stichting Verzameling van Wijngaarden-Boot
Veerhuis
VDM
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