MODEL SHIP

You do not cross the seas, but you do cross the time,

how much more risky that long journey can be!;

the afternoon light is filtered through curtains

and a prodigious ray welcomed on your sails.

Attached to the base, and apparently immobile

dust deposits slowly on top of the old masts,

on the half crumpled ropes, on the yellowed sails,

and on your broken deck unconsciously a fly lands.

The attentive ear listens immersed in golden silence

in darkness of the room, and from the wingback chair,

the roar of time smashing inclemently on the objects

you soar through with secure unmoved course undaunted.

So I had never seen so much a vessel daring

and suddenly I embark on the prodigious tales

of unheard countless days of winds and of bonanzas,

of worries and of joys, arrivals and storms,

of meetings and farewells, of kisses and of tears,

of the clear skies that suddenly become coarse,

of loneliness and laughter, death and abandonment,

of projects and drowned love in the bottoms of seas.

How many sailors seen immersed in the toils

following the pole star that points towards death

helpless rowing and flailing, and floundering then sinking

in the huge surf of hours, in the wild surf of days!.

Everything brought by time, by that stormy sea,

-that relentless deceit, without noticing hardly-

that we are hit in the face and then soaked are left

seeping down into our bones and barely knowing it.

© albertotrocóniz / 02

Text from: "POEMS OF THE EPHEMERAL"

Image from: "PHOTOFILTERED"

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BARQUITO DEL ESTANTE EN LA PENUMBRA

Otros enlaces “Post”-relacionados

en el tablero “POEMAS DEL GOZO Y DE LA SOMBRA”

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SAINT EDMUND

Today we talk politics,

but not the current ones,

we remember the deeds

from many years afar;

Was the eight hundred and fifty-five year,

-Ed had fifteen- when crowned

as son of saxon king

to the East Anglia throne.

Despite his tender youth,

perhaps because of that,

the boy reveals himself

as a sage and wise man.

Ignoring all his flatterers,

the court of sycophants,

and being just and equal

dealing with everyone.

Driven once by the spirit,

attending its demand,

to a tower retired

to worship and to pray.

In solitude learned latin

the entire amount of psalms

by heart often recited

at every occasion had.

Dare anyone to take him

for someone who is faint,

fearful, lazy or a coward

pusillanimous, or "blessed".

Defended with great courage

his kingdom in distress

from many ambitious enemies

that invasions pretended.

In an unequal battle

was captured and jailed;

Danish nobles were angry,

because the guy was fair.

Faced with his refusal 

alive with whips was flayed,

and in the midst of suffering

he invoked the Holy Name,

Was used as a target

to practice with their bows,

with arrows in him nailed

seemed like hedgehog.

After that was beheaded

to distant bush head thrown;

when they went to collect it

it cried the right spot.

This day we worship Edmund,

the holy name that means

"he who protects the property"

and he protects indeed!.

In Edmundsbury Abbey

erected to his cult

until the Reformation

his relics kept for long.

It is good in this age

of cowards and corrupts

to refresh good examples

the saints have left to us.

© albertotrocóniz / 11

Text from: "POEMS OF TRIBUTE"

Image from Tapestry Depicting St.Edmund

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HOY VEINTE DE NOVIEMBRE: SAN EDMUNDO

Otros “Posts” del “Blog” relacionados

en el Tablero “TORRE DEL HOMENAJE”:

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MASKS

Afterthought beguiles the person:

bearing our masks we are all doodles

when we identify with them.

Each plays the role to him assigned

and does his task in this world

making possible

God´s show.

It's not wrong being an actor, on the contrary it's fun;

the madness is to take the role for real

(personally and collectively hold).

And which I refer to death is:

abandon everything internally;

the idea of a person is the first.

Thus allowing the great mystery

to fill the available void

being only just mere instruments.

Honing our capabilities

will promote the harmonious sound

for the music SILENCE plays.

© albertotrocóniz / 11

from the "PHILOSOPHICAL FILES”

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ACOTACIÓN AL MARGEN DE LAS MÁSCARAS

Otros enlaces “Post”-relacionados

en el Tablero “LA BÚSQUEDA INCESANTE”

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NEW MOON IN SCORPIO 2011

26 Oct. 2011 19:56 UT Greenwich

Scorpio New Moon, you still do not light
that for intercourse in this sexy sign

with the Father Sun it is the seed time.
So you virgin were, mother in two weeks,
(and then two weeks more, and old you will be).

The germ in your womb that bears such a fruit

is one that encourages sublunary beings

to act passionate, to incur into excess,

seeking for the extreme, for the absolute thing,

in both what is evil and also what´s good.

Depending on the evolutionary stage

there are three archetypes which reflect

the status and degree of consciousness:

the Scorpion, the Eagle and the Phoenix,

and the common factor is this: change,

transmuting, transformation, alchemy;

we all have -in more or less extent-

the lived experience of part of it, or all.

The Scorpion his poison does prepare

and his lethal sting, victims to make;

the selfishness of the ego here prevails

over the others, till a point arrives

when -suicidal- self sticks it to himself

and thus tastes from his own medicine,

which is the lesson to learn up to this point.

As scorpions it may be appropriate

(apart to start a matador career,

Scorpio and Bull are always opposites),

to read a detective novel "serie noir",

or watch a gangster movie (in black and white);

get vaccinated against the flu to come

(no longer please delay it for more time).

We could also enter the operating room

injured by edged weapons or by fire.

And more than anything have sex,

even including perversions into it

(of sado-maso type, to something say),

of course provided is played as a game.

To be like the eagle here is to take flight

to horizons that are a lot more open, clear,

where nothing can escape from the sight near

that falls into the ground up from the sky;

Picasso's eyes (he was a Scorpio-beast),

is an adequate example to illustrate the case;

it is stealing the sacred fire from gods,

bringing it to Earth, it´s Prometheus´s Jobs.

Playing the eagle role at this time means:

to lance the wound as the good surgeon does,

and amputate the limb for body´s sake;

to start a psychoanalysis of dreams

(Sigmund Freud is a "scorpionesque" case);

to investigate the mysteries of life:

what this can be?, and death?, and destiny?,

where do I go? who am I?, where am I from?;

(of course there will never be any response

until we die to concepts that are made

by the both hemispheres left and right

of a brain polar -always comparative-,

that must go up to levels much above

and dualities transcend: of white and black);

and all this connects us with the next round ...

To be a phoenix, that from the ashes rise

from remnants from a past that is combust,

and rediscover the needed soul strength,

which from itself takes always a new breath.

It's time to burn in mysticism aflame,

rereading Saint John Cross, Santa Theresa,

to meditate on the Apocalypse

(a monastery in Patmos would be fit);

to increase the level of awareness

letting the interior being in silence deep;

target the light that burns us to the end

and become Dove of Spirit Supreme

with whitest feathers which ultimately blaze

into a pure bright tongue of holy fire.

Sun-Moon in Scorpio, that´s the time.

© albertotrocóniz  /  11

from: "CELESTIAL CONNECTION "

PROMETHEUS´S.JOBS

albertotrocóniz / 11

(As the author is not a native English speaker, is happy to receive suggestions for grammar corrections that you can send to my mail: albertotroconiz@mac.com. Thanks.)

STEVE JOBS Poem In Memoriam

PROMETHEUS´S.

JOBS

Thank you my friend for the marvelous devices

that you have brought to this world out of Eden,

where you from the science-tree picked the APPLE

and gave it to us, the wrath of gods not fearing.

Just as Prometheus stole fire from Olympus,

and then Jove sent to his chains the infamous eagle

to daily bite him a piece out from his liver

as punishment for promoting mankind wiser,

I thus can see your disease and all the suffering

as a way of paying for all the pain spared*

in daily tasks -into elegance transformed-

and to millions of people the joy given.

Thus I wish you that all such a good karma**

promotes not a next (as NEXT you did already),

life in this world, but one that is much happier

in paradise, amidst extensive orchards

of those -at one of their sides bitten- golden apples.

© albertotrocóniz / 11

from: "TRIBUTE"

* Law of redemption through sacrifice.

**Law of the consequences our actions good and bad, 

so we are reborn in successive lives in order to debug and  to be finally able to unite with the Absolute.

Recall that SJ was, is Buddhist.

(As the author is not a native English speaker, is happy to receive suggestions for grammar corrections that you can send to my mail: albertotroconiz@mac.com. Thanks.)

SEPTEMBER THE 11th

Both twin figures are injured by lightning;

their graceful bodies to the slaughter go

from the unpredictable and accurate blow

that brutally severed from it´s stem the rose.

Never will be another May or September

for you the mirrors of those fierce dawnings

of sun upon steel and glazed curtains

that promoted the glance of sidelong glimpses.

To the city boasting of your possession,

world reference and north for human mazes,

you were the needle and gnomon to the bustle,

giving the scale, counting among the amazing

tall buildings till the disgraceful cutting

that your harvest indistinctly mowed.

© albertotrocóniz / 11

from: "TRIBUTE"

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UN ONCE DE SEPTIEMBRE DOS MIL UNO

TWIN TOWERS POEM

Who will see you, oh mirrors for the lights 

shading the color of twin by-passing hours

on your skins reflecting the suns dancing

under the skies of the fast changing blues.

Twin sister towers peer in disgrace,

how can then fly the indifferent cloudscapes

with the memory of beloved and caresses

that for no more their sweetness is to be.

Today you sink when wounded on the flanks,

torn by the claws of the unexpected beast

that opened such gaps in graceful bodies

and to the bottoms vertically you go.

Dark sea of asphalt is there to welcome you

into rough waves of dust and dark smoke

to swallow in depths the vessels with the lives

that held the thought to be at home that night.

© albertotrocóniz /01
from: "TRIBUTE"

"TORRES GEMELAS" is the original title in Spanish that can be seen at the bottom link

(This is the author´s translation of it, an as I am not a native English speaker, I am happy to receive suggestions for grammar corrections that you can send to my mail. Thanks.)

albertotroconiz@mac.com

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TORRES GEMELAS