Reseña del libro de poesía La tumba del marinero por Luna Miguel (La Bella Varsovia, 2013):
Pues, qué belleza. Qué putrefacción. A veces huele, ese libro. A veces huele incluso muy mal. Porque ese libro es una tumba, y el cuerpo todavía está vivo - lleno de gusanos y palabras retorciéndose.
Azucár como arma. Cánceres que se crecen y que se propagan.
La tumba del marinero comparte unos poemas que ya han sido publicados en la edición norteamericana que se llama Bluebird and Other Tattoos (The Scrambler, 2012). Sin embargo, la mayoría son nuevos. Leí los poemas en voz alta, sentado en una muelle del lago Michigan. Me parecía apropriado. El poemario (o bien novela política) trata de enfermedades, de amores (que quizá sean enfermedades), de disgustos.
Vengan a enterarse por qué “la vida no puede ser experimentada ni por los vivos ni por los muertos”. Que lean a Luna Miguel.
Another marvelous, hideous collection of poetry from Luna Miguel. In a way, the whole book squirms and oozes, speaking of disease and love, seasickness and disgust. But it’s not an ugly book - it’s a muddy book in the way you can enjoy squishing your feet in spring puddles. We all want to see our insides, even when we’re frightened at first glance. And that kind of pull, of the sickness that we feel inside, is the force of Luna’s “The Sailor’s Grave”.
Some of my favorite poems:
Four: Monogamy One: Seams (also appears in Bluebirds) Eight: Bad Blood (a long segment in which things grow and grow and then shrink into the end of the world)
If your Spanish will serve, order La tumba del marinero. Hopefully we’ll be seeing much more of Luna’s work translated for the US!
EDITORIAL CEREBRO is a literary collective which specializes in the publishing and distribution of books, chapbooks, both in print and online of short fiction and poetry. SOLDIERS OF THE WORLD is a compilation of poetry and short stories in English and Spanish from writers and literature enthusiasts from around the world, it was edited and assembled by Arvelisse Ruby.
Poetry and short stories by Araym Viviana, Ela Flores, Miguel Lausell, Keisha Gutierrez, Noah Cicero, Kevin Cole, Sarah San, Mark Baumer, Justin Hyde, Eddie Jones, Arvelisse Ruby, Gustavo Rivera, Weston Auburn, Yasmine Stella Ledeé, Tania Colón Morales, Nicole Fraticelli, Alejandro Jorge, David Barliza Colorado, Gabby Gabby, Camila Frías Estrada and Julia Kapetanov.
Check out some incredible Spanish and English-language poetry and short-fiction in “Soldiers of the World” - including two of my own poems!
No voy a hablar de la escuela
ni de la música ni del frío que hace
aquí en el midwest, centro de tantos
infiernos y de tantos paraísos.
Voy a hablar de escenas escritas
por mendigos sobre el cartón.
Mini- metadramas,
basados en lo absurdo y lo burlesco
de vidas ahogadas.
Hablaré de perder el habla,
de sentirme a la deriva
de temer probar la cocaína.
Pues eso prueba que morir
me asusta todavía.
Hago fila y espero
sin saber del sinsabor
de quedarme acá
disimulando el querer
del tacto.
Otra vez se me olvidó
cambiarme los lentes de contacto.
Llevo tres meses con estos
secando los únicos ojos que jamás tendré.
Pero quizá vale el camino
que supo andar Borges.
Ya me encuentro
dando palos de ciego.
Biblioteca de Poe
En el fondo de un extraño corral
Libros o pedazos de carne
Nervios enganchados de un esqueleto
O papel impreso
Un florero o la puerta
De las pesadillas
Poe’s Library
In the back of a strange courtyard
Books or chunks of flesh
Sinew hanging from a skeleton
Or printed paper
A flower vase or the door
To nightmares
de Los perros románticos por Roberto Bolaño.
from The Romantic Dogs by Roberto Bolaño, translation to English is my own.
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HEY Y’ALL
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spend $5 and receive poetry, prose, pictures and more! including one short piece by yours truly. support independent publishing!
shameless plug over.
the way the paper stars
hanging from your ceiling
on fishing line
dance a little with their own shadows
every time your fan is on
[we’ve only ever been together in summer]
lying on your bed
trying to be the opposite of radiation -
like a human-shaped block of lead
sucking in the pulses of the things
around me
and you look serious
when you pull your hair
into that bun
but you’re laughing.
i feel okay
[for once]
that i can’t map out everything
the worth/waste of sleep
3 poems and a writing thing.
the flowers breathed for the first time on your back,
they were minuscule flowers,
made with the silence that fills empty rooms,
that silence which you always figured out how to perfectly handle,
that silence with which you screamed your deep fear,
that your words would remain tattooed in the wind,
you destroyed entire countries with your silence.
the second time never came.
Translation of the poem 7/02/2012 by user withandbeyondtheframe from the original Spanish.
thinking feelings
and trying to destroy them
in the same instant
the smearing of a face
onto paper and hoping
for anything to come back
imprinted.
some tracks of the currents running
silently through porous capillaries
overwhelming the nervous system
piecing apart the ability
to file under the mental label
[facts]
sunset filtering through
an agricultural haze
and the burnt in red of exposure
riding in our cheeks
single-use camera shots
and near misses on the freeway.
no -
i don’t think
i’m missing anything.
