Poetry Incessant Melody Of Broken Bones

Natalia Fernández-Díaz

Incessant melody of broken bones…

-I have five perplexities for chorus and orchestra. And a hungry army of clocks To which my ages cannot longer give some food. The world is mature from hate. Perseverant winds invade The trembling intimacy With their scissors. You said: “The spring has lost its innocence By prostituting itself in illustrious beds”.

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Natalia Fernández-Díaz

Time opens its brutal wings -quiet and taciturn in the traces that have caressed thirsty skin in the past of our poor bodiesTime gives up in the fingers, Unable of dying in a different way.

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Natalia Fernández-Díaz

Life is a tree growing up between the brain And the will of the muscles. I am not longer the owner Of my body. There are others administrating My hope and its miseries, the remaining holes of the sky. I read the world from my window -texts that birds design in the tunnels of the time-. The brain, isolated island with no borders, With no inhabitants. Only dark noises, only abandoned bones Of beings who didn’t survive jokes of life. I can touch our past Pretending to be alive.

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Natalia Fernández-Díaz

Repeating books and sounds With lips confined in times and spaces Never experienced before. I remember my own future, Existing in a world of perplexity. I am the shadow of What I have never been. -we explore codes to touch with no hands-. Ancestral fears have kidnapped My conscience. I am the only rest Of myself. No said words No said women Looking for mirrors Where old wounds Become eyes to explore A planet beyond that torture Which others simply call life.

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Natalia Fernández-Díaz

STORIES FROM THE BALKANS

Impossible town of impossible dreams. The hope has to be more obstinate Than tenacious. They are too close to history And too far away from their own future.

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Natalia Fernández-Díaz

Tirana’s sun: brine on the wound. Suppurating indolence and avidity of the world. Battered dogs Filling intense spaces. I am many in this Rotundity of the tediousness. And the history and its sores Fall like ashes over our heads.

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Natalia Fernández-Díaz

Inauguration of the day With bells and muezzins. A foam-hurry Invades the streets -energy of metastasisThe wound is invisible But puts its seeds in our minds Thanks to the bunkers And their shady spheres. Pain inhabits the fruits That we never enunciate.

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Natalia Fernández-Díaz

Balkan ashes. Drops of blood In the silence of the windows. Languages once dissolved In a common wound… Without having understood Each other.

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Natalia Fernández-Díaz

PHYSICAL KNOWLEDGE

I know the pain. We look at each other. We negotiate our mutual survival.

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SEMANTIC HORSES

Imagination is a strange wild horse breaking into a trot irresponsibly, up and down, in the corners of a world where everything begins to have sense.

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FREE…

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To be free –a wide word to put even the most unsuspected things insideis to have no obligation of paying for the monopoly of others’ glory. v Natalia Fernández-Díaz

DISTANCES BETWEEN EYES AND MIRRORS

Winter is just a psychological accident and the spring, a splendorous state of the spirit. In between a time that fits in my hands and most of us simply call life.

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The worst of a hell is not the hell itself…but the omnipresent window through which you can look at distant others’ paradise.

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Currently I am in the phase of exploring other cultures, expressions, forms of negotiation and social sensibility, and in a parallel way experiencing new dimensions of the language, overcoming its limitations and silences, etc. That would be the preliminary part of this project whose estimated number of pages will be 75/80. The eventual (not final) title is “Incessant melody of broken bones”, the first verse of the first poem.

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