bookmate game

Jaime Priede

  • Marlenehas quoted4 months ago
    Todo lo que veo me sobrevivirá.

    ANNA AJMÁTOVA
  • Marlenehas quoted9 months ago
    ¿Quién no se sintió alguna vez desarmado ante la poesía que exige mucho menos de lo que nos entrega con absoluta generosidad?
  • Marlenehas quoted9 months ago
    celebrar la cotidiana inmediatez de sentirse vivo.
  • Marlenehas quoted9 months ago
    YOUR DOG DIES

    it gets run over by a van. / you find it at the side of the road / and bury it. / you feel bad about it. / you feel bad personally, / but you feel bad for your daughter / because it was her pet, / and she loved it so. / she used to croon to it / and let it sleep in her bed. / you write a poem about it. / you call it a poem for your daughter, / about the dog getting run over by a van / and how you looked after it, / took it out into the woods / and buried it deep, deep, / and that poem turns out so good / you’re almost glad the little dog / was run over, or else you’d never / have written that good poem. / then you sit down to write / a poem about writing a poem / about the death of that dog, / but while you’re writing you / hear a woman scream / your name, your first name, / both syllables, / and your heart stops. / after a minute, you continue writing. / she screams again. // you wonder how long this can go.
  • Marlenehas quoted9 months ago
    YOUR DOG DIES

    it gets run over by a van. / you find it at the side of the road / and bury it. / you feel bad about it. / you feel bad personally, / but you feel bad for your daughter / because it was her pet, / and she loved it so. / she used to croon to it / and let it sleep in her bed. / you write a poem about it. / you call it a poem for your daughter, / about the dog getting run over by a van / and how you looked after it, / took it out into the woods / and buried it deep, deep, / and that poem turns out so good / you’re almost glad the little dog / was run over, or else you’d never / have written that good poem. / then you sit down to write / a poem about writing a poem / about the death of that dog, / but while you’re writing you / hear a woman scream / your name, your first name, / both syllables, / and your heart stops. / after a minute, you continue writing. / she screams again. // you wonder how long this can go
  • Marlenehas quoted4 months ago
    Cada mañana es una decepción.
  • Marlenehas quoted4 months ago
    la destreza no debe confundirse

    con la virtud.
  • Marlenehas quoted4 months ago
    Me casé con la chica que quería y le envenené la vida.
  • Marlenehas quoted4 months ago
    Días de lluvia y aguas altas.

    Hojas que golpea la lluvia en el suelo.

    En mi corazón, esta porción de la tierra

    que la tormenta ilumina.
  • Marlenehas quoted4 months ago
    Todos nosotros, todos nosotros, todos nosotros

    intentando salvar

    nuestras almas inmortales por caminos

    en algún caso más sinuosos y misteriosos

    aparentemente

    que otros.
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