PAUL PANIAGUA ESCRITOR Y POETA: Algo de musica para variar. Paco de Lucia...interp...

PAUL PANIAGUA ESCRITOR Y POETA: Algo de musica para variar. Paco de Lucia...interp...: Algo de musica para variar. Paco de Lucia...interpretada por Paul

Algo de musica para variar. Paco de Lucia...interpretada por Paul

REMANDO HACIA VENUS

Para la mujer de risos de oro
que está allí dormida remando hacia Venus
¡TODO EL AMOR!
Imposiblemente
absurdo sería no acampañarla
de dorso aleteando en su númen de plata
Seguirla esta noche irisada en su luz
Hilvanarnos el alma entre besos
¿Traspazar mil galaxias?
Para esa mujer
¡TODO EL AMOR!

Fijemos el iris en esa otra mujer de los lises de púrpura
Aquella de largo cabello inocente 
De ojos castaños y labios cerezos
La veo aun en la exequia de un cielo
Párvudo encuentro de niños el nuestro
El beso ignoto en siringa nos canta su amor
En un beso primero
Para esa mujer
!MAS LISES VIOLETAS!
Digamos, muchísimos más de los que se cree merecer
Despertó el amor en su infancia en el cajón de mi pecho
Era solo un columpio de niños y flores
Un testigo 

Habrá otra mujer entrochada en mis brazos de sirte
Fundida en un solo esqueleto fantasma a mi cuerpo
Merodiando en su dientes mi oreja derecha
Buscando el cuello
Deshoja alcatraces de sangre
Clava en mi cuello sus filosos colmillos
Para ESA otra mujer
¡MITAD DE MIS VERSOS MENOS UNO!
Como debe ser para una mujer de ese siglo de plata
Y es que por qué no recurrir al tarot otra vez
Pensemos,
volar a esos años 80 sin un corazón
Allí está dolida en el alma,
esperando un regreso imposible
el destino se lo dijo mil veces
para ESA mujer de 50 centavos de siglo
MITAD DE MIS VERSOS MENOS UNO

Aquella otra mujer de mi Venus del cielo
De la que hablé en su génesis
La que le diera a luz sus 6 Luminares
La mujer que se enfrenta al mundo conmigo
La que devora la Andromeda entera y mueve universos
Para ESA mujer de rulos de Oro
!TODO MI AMOR Y MAS SI ES POSIBLE!

Paul Paniagua
Copyright 2017 
Ojos llenos de Abril

LA COLIFLOR

LA COLIFLOR

La coliflor traga lombrices de tierra; nunca las haya dormidas, estudia sus túneles y cuevas secretas. Le atraen también las hormigas. La coliflor parece un cerebro humano olvidado. Se entierra hasta la altura del entrecejo fruncido en la tierra; asoman sus dos hemisferios. Es comestible, adopta una nueva postura. Mira hacia arriba. Le atraen las legumbres y otros repollos vecinos; carece de sexto sentido. Es vergonzosa. Sigue enterrada; frunce la frente. Nadie le mira su rostro. Siente el sol en el cráneo. Esconde los ojos. Bucea de píe. Es inconspicua.

Ordena tu libro y pulsa la imagen

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THE DAVIS CUP

The Davis Cup

Bipolarity had transformed him into a tennis ball.  Now it seemed like he never knew where he was, if he was coming or going, or when he existed and when he didn’t.  Growing tired of his unstable psychological state, he decided to put an end to his problem.  He went to his psychiatrist’s office and filled out a job application for a tennis racquet position.  The psychiatrist accepted his application, with pleasure.
Translation by David Rock

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Open Heart Surgery

Open Heart Surgery

It was open heart surgery that had him in the operating room.  The operation was a success.  It was fun closing his rib cage.  His doctor decided  to install a zipper on the left side of his sternum to facilitate future access.  The surgeon opted to close the wound half way, securing the ribs with staples and wires to be removed at a later date.  He attached the closure so as to allow time for the ribs to fuse.  There were neither set-backs nor complications.  The operation transformed old Steven into a superhero.  He himself made this discovery.  He saw that his car started when he approached it to open the door.  Upon entering the living room the TV spontaneously changed channels; a couple of thumps on his chest would shut off the computer, and even the safe would open without the pass-code just by extending his hands and cracking his knuckles.  As he gradually became aware of his new powers he attributed them to that amalgamation of steel, wires, and the zipper he carried in his chest.  In awe of  his new talent, and being aware that he needed a job, his friends hired him to use as a remote control for their burglaries.  Not realizing what they were up to, Steven accepted the job without the least objection.

LOOSE SCREWS

Loose Screws

Some screws work loose due to negligence or abuse.  Sometimes it’s nobody’s fault but their own.  These latter bide their time until finally they weaken or break leaving chaos.  Screws get caught up in the habit of watching vacuous soap operas and wasting time.  People need calibrated, precisely adjusted screws.  The good ones rarely lose their washers.  Time passes and these screws die rusty and forgotten, holding onto the wall to the very end.  They win; they never give up.  The screwdriver is their attending nurse; the hammer, their last recourse in an emergency.  Once lost they’re lost for good.  Some people, unfortunately, come with a loose screw from the factory, or their nut has its threads crossed, in which case it’s pretty much hopeless.

Translation by David Rock