LIFE IN THE “SPIRITS”

Waters of Trafalgar, the twenty first

of the month of October, eighteen five;

in the bilge of the ship HMS Victory
the pride of english navy, the admiral

Horatio Nelson lies at his death's bed;

wounded by musket bullet in the column

resists in agony until the hour comes

to ear the news of victory obtained

over the enemy: the Franco-Hispanic fleet;

already he may die, but somewhat worried

to Captain Hardy says in a hoarse voice:

"don´t throw me to the sea, into its waters

(me who gave to so many there a home)

I don´t want to be eaten by the fishes,

take me to our homeland, back to England

and under its mild earth give me a grave;

and now farewell, kiss me good friend,

tell me goodnight and towards home! "

-so said the admiral expiring-

old chap Hardy must meet good word

but there's a long journey back

and to conserve the corpse seems a feat.

A possible solution is decanted

of putting him into a cask of brandy,

who branded "Napoleon" was seized

as war booty to the enemy

who celebrated victories in his name

and the Frenchies have kept it almost intact.

Within those staves can take him to obsequies

that the nation prepares for his great man;

not salty waters but rather the sweet ones

of “Eau-de-vie française" so called cognac

is the fluid that the sailor will go through

(and though in it is plunged does not flake).

But there immersed in the middle of that broth

with alcohol & temperature degrees

the body ferments and lastly the gas bursts

exploding barrel´s woods as in a thunder:

amid spirits returns the lord to those alive

(which afraid greet the mummy with much awe).

After further adventures they arrive in port

and Nelson´s offals once already dried

are coated formally with all mundane pomp

and carried in an impressive procession

(still ethylic vapors giving off),

through streets of London to cathedral St. Paul

The enemy admiral Villeneuve is a prisoner

present at funeral, and muses to himself

with irony while curling his mustache,

that good French cognac besides the musket bullet

is cause for hero Horatio´s burial taking place.

After a while the captive is released

returns to France and there is not forgiven;

living in poverty in Paris changing flats,

the "Empereur" is very very angry

as all his dreams of invading England

this inept has left them watered down;

and sends Fouche´s agents on a visit

which immediately draws to the graveyard.

Shortly Villeneuve already in heaven 

(somewhat ashamed in sailors company),

in conversation with Nelson and Gravina

and also with Churruca and Alcalá Galiano,

says to his rival, already is now a mate:

"We had such paradoxes in our lives:

me so much time employed in his service

and mercilessly decided to drop me

and you who were his bitter enemy

good "Napoleon" has thee so well preserved!”.

© albertotrocóniz / 12

Text: from “SHORT STORIES"

Image: "Naval Battle" from "PHOTOPAINTING”

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VIDA EN EL "ESPÍRITU"

FEAR OF YOUR REENCOUNTER IN A SONNET

It was a day of bitter farewell
that made my love from you fly break
and for my soul to turn away mistreated,
in your oblivion forgetting being loved.

Oh wound of love, now I fear that the scar
done by your eyes is due to open again
closed for some time, deemed anew to bleed,
in this reencounter to be utterly threatened.

I feel fearful and foresee will not obtain
the medicine so needed from your mouth,
nor will you satisfy in torture thirst;

at the foot of the source put to agonize again
while hearing your laughter in the stream
of a love that endures -I see- today.

© albertotrocóniz / 12

Text from: "POEMS OF LAY LOVE"

Image from: “TARO PAINTS”

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TEMOR A TU REENCUENTRO EN UN SONETO

ETERNITY DEMANDS A CIRCUMSTANCE

Let's face the fact: we love each other;

yes, I have known when my eyes met

with your loved ones, so dark and deep,

where there I saw a light that´s also mine.

What is externally concealed by the body

a glance can not deny

because it´s from the depths a direct contact

of souls that want their windows open wide

and they have said to each other: "I know I love you"

beyond disguise, and our circumstances

that for the present time seem to be impossible;

but the fact is there, thus we shudder.

But what advantage is there for creatures

to recognize themselves as one in lofty orbits

if there is not to be further full fruition

of bodies, of the flesh? ...

in the mutual possession of each other,

in carnal fusion that takes both to the abyss,

to infinity, to the point where death

smashes all the barriers interposed, ...

and no longer it is me, nor you a girl

I met by chance, but only the Absolute.

© albertotrocóniz / 12

Text from: "POEMS OF LAY LOVE"

Image from: "TAROT", Arcana XI: "Strength / Lust"

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ETERNIDAD DEMANDA CIRCUNSTANCIA

EL POEMA RECITADO

 

VISUALIZADO… en YouTube

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FROM A TEACHER TO STUDENTS: A TRIBUTE

Friends, some of you here are my pupils

and there are others that have been,

or will be in the future, with "bad luck";

allow me a few comments that I feel:

Albert Einstein had said that is "the school

the invention of old age to take revenge"...

from the accusation of continuous youth

which shows as in a mirror the contrast 

of life that is in bloom and ever young

and the relentless slaughter of the time.

As he who is the professor always finds

all courses, perpetual and renewed,

in front of him, standing by, the estate

always the same and vigorous of life

in twenty years of age the clock stopped,

with time unchanging mocking at his face

as in a bloodily reversed devil´s pact.

And is the painful contrast evident

of all the years passed in a breath,

that open sores of former joys forgotten,

the longing for what could have been,

the ride near the end and all its sins,

the final course which leads towards the death.

And in revenge of the hour-glass, professors

looking to spend their aging each year in front

of youth batches evergreen as an insult,

as a mocking laughter of the gods,

in retaliation I suppose, perhaps unconsciously,

they erect themselves as if a Cronus god

to devour flesh of generations new.

Overwhelming demands then are there raised

of work without limits or an end

which represent, I know, the many hours

stolen from the rest, and from sports,

going out with friends or else with the sweet love,

to travel round the world or just to lie

on the park in spring facing the sky

to see clouds drift by across the blue

quietly and ponder questions: what is life?,

what´s the destiny of all, and its arcana ...;

and try to find our own answers that no book

neither teachers or syllabus, can give;

that only each one alone and by himself

in direct insight might see if in silence

the mind is quieted, from common toils afar…

without "sword of Damocles" of handovers,

without the guilty conscience of the expenses

without the urgency for the next exercise,

of attendances, examinations, marks.

Society does not treat those youths as adults,

people who are already so by age,

as caged birds would be the fitting image,

or tamed creatures to jump the fences brought

of the Career, a steeplechase resembling so to say.

Yes, I know, there are other rewards

-of architecture I speak because I know-

the cause is neat and gives us information

in a wide variety of fields

and plus discovers the deep creative vein

that makes us equal to God "Great Architect".

And yet we see that in the scales unbalanced,

the other plate is there much overloaded

with the youth lost and with the extensive hours

and then more hours of never ending work.

And apart, of course of some outstanding master

luckily found at last -as one finds a rare bird-

and half a dozen teachers that are good

with something to offer that interesting sounds,

misunderstanding of much professor fool,

endure so much the egos and their whims,

treatment unfair of some frustrated despots,

or leaden weight of lecturers much gray.

It is also added the uncertainty in the present

of future work and money to be gained

that allows us to be at last independent,

being no more a burden to the family,

able to travel and go around the world,

to buy a sports car, and even a small house,

and found a home and have some children there,

(or perhaps that sounds already outmoded?).

A true vocation more than that of Saints

to stand in the gap is here necessary,

to overcome discouragement and "lows"

and not to throw the towel on the floor

given the example that we see on the street

of so many ignorant dumb scoundrels

that without knowledge and also without qualms

flourishes in business or thrives in politics.

So friends I understand you, I've had

more or less the same as any one around;

if anything serves, tell me of course with you,

because beyond the teacher and the student,

exams and marks, beyond assigned roles,

the human aspect must at the end prevail

I've passed that too, so I speak.

Above all: a generation can´t be lost

denying best fresh blood to the old crop rows

who have already given, and now dry,

deprived of sowing without the future seeds,

are just to be stubble and henceforth

outworn responses only from the past.

What a sin!; a treadmill around the neck, then thrown

into the sea, responsible deserve

for ruining roads for treading of the youth

by shortsightedness and selfishness so dumb,

the treasure of the future making waste!.

I regard it utterly intolerable, therefor 

tell me among the outraged in their ranks!.

© albertotrocóniz / 12

Text from: "AS I SEE IT"

Image from: "PHOTOFILTERED"

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DE UN PROFESOR A ALUMNOS: HOMENAJE

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GET OFF THE CAROUSEL AT ONCE

The support of an application,

a football team or to a party, ...

that´s very well, but it is irrelevant;

as nothing matters being in the contingent.

For what is, is being out of time

and space, that are mere delusions;

another order of reality -in fact-

the only reality, the rest utterly false.

For nothing is, although it seems to exist:

mere shadow figures projected on a canvas;

the only real is the light and the screen

and when it´s off the Great Silence remains.

But we are all the time pending on form

on name, ideas, and experiences

of our ego, the idea of being something

changing with modes and all the circumstances.

Already fed up, look at what matters,

we get so tired of the journey for eons

where we like toys do turn and turn around

and round and round on our ego axis.

Let's try get out and just stop from that,

direct the attention maintaining the point

that is behind the known, and observe all

without any rejection or attachment.

there is the Being independent, free

of pain and pleasure, and all the rest of processes

that create worlds, and subsequent destruction;

this is the truth, only this is what matters.

The ego is false: I am not an idea,

I am the unembraceable reality

I am the Self that is revealed in silence;

someone has said: "The High Indifference".

© albertotrocóniz / 12

Text from: "PHILOSOPHICAL FILES"

Image from: "PHOTOGRAPHY"

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APEARSE DE UNA VEZ DEL TIOVIVO

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