martes, 12 de abril de 2016

The sublime pretext’s recyclability…




One Word is wrongly said until it is approved for existence and that force us say many things wrong lately. Known it is that  a partition wall is related with construction and such a term in Spanish language (as many other words) comes from the Arabic…  A partition wall is used to divide spaces but not with the same quality than a real wall needs to be called such as… Pretext: the pretext works out like a partition wall. It is useful for establishing weak divisions between what will come and what is imminent, and time keeps going by, which is called cyclical by the way; because there are moments that can return from scratch, thus, everyone can pretext once more and once again. But why? To repeat the cycle? Trying some poetry: To stretch time? There are situations with perspectives alike. For example while waiting on a line, which is always unnecessary and therefore convenient (at least here: in Venezuela) But why again? Because stretching time justify pretexts. Symbiotically, perhaps…  Most of us know: that who waits despair as much as with the excuse, and who explains confuses when not managing to convince, and when cannot make it offends… But why once more? Because stretching time brings power even with pretexts, because pretexting  stretches the time of the power, because the power, the power has to be stretched and also pretexted…  


Spanish version: aquí

Barridos




Cuando la brisa modera no molesta,
y las hojas que deciden caer se toman su tiempo,
sea para asimilar el abandono del árbol o sea para saber que ahora son del viento.
Llegan al concreto para,
más tarde que temprano,
agruparse con otras de otros árboles;
ser bulto:
y aguardar dentro de la bolsa plástica a la que fueron a parar por la pala y la escoba.
Así debe ser: ser barrido;
y como las hojas,
pudiéramos presumir,
más no lo sabemos,
quiénes son en nosotros esa escoba y esa pala…  

El árbol no abandona sino que deja ir,
quizás por algún acuerdo con el viento,
quizás porque le expropiaron el bosque,
quizás;
quizás porque ahora es el intruso de su propio terreno…  
Árboles somos tomos de vez en cuando,
porque de vez en cuando nos toca dejar ir y pactar con ese viento;
aunque su brisa nos disguste,
aunque no guste la canción que cantan nuestras ramas…
Sí…
Hay cada vez más días árboles y días hojas.
Hoy nos barren más y más dejamos ir…