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Writer's pictureA Too Powerful Word

Emilio Paz


Emilio Paz (Lima, Perú, 1990) is a professor of philosophy and religion, graduated from the Catholic University Sedes Sapientiae. He has published September in Silence (Poetic Reading Club, 2016), Labyrinth of Verses (The Equestrian Turtle, n394, 2018) and The Ballad of the Outcasts (Angeles Del Papel, 2019). His writings appear in various media in Peru, Chile, Argentina, Venezuela, Colombia, Ecuador, Brazil, Costa Rica, Mexico, United States, Romania, Spain, India, Cuba, India, Bangladesh, Bulgaria and Italy. Research the relationship between aesthetics, education and poetry. He directs the blog El Eden of poetry (https://edenpoetico.wordpress.com/), co-directs the Kametsa Magazine and the charity recitals The voices of the hummingbird.



SPIDER

Spider, is an eight-legged poem.

Each leg is a verse.

Each verse is a dam.

Each dam is a silence.





BOHEMIAN

A party,

a drink

and the naked earth.

Embraced,

kissing each other,

wishing death.

Here they are

the gray years,

the violet ceiling.

And in one corner,

a cat

seducing a girl.

And in the yard,

A seagull

Penetrating a guy.

What is beyond today?

But the morning

Dressed in red.




POETRY

Poetry

is the last link

of a long chain.

Chain

in which the human being holds on

for not to fall into the oblivion.

Oblivion

which is the last link

of a long chain

which always points

to God.






MYSTICISM


the magic

of the poem

is the freedom

of the rabbit

on the jaws

of the fox





MELODÍA VII

On your chest,

Over your breasts,

I found my peace.

Soul that was lost,

today is in its home.

There, where the birds

are not afraid of hunters,

your word is holding my soul.

Between your hands,

on your thighs

there is God who takes pity on me

and he talks to me,

softly,

about my ancestors’ stories.

Here there is no exiled Eva

neither innocent

In your marine meats,

there´s the origin of my thoughts,

the nobility of human feelings.

Carnations that are born in the deserts

are the ones I find in your eyes,

and your senses are poetry

that is proclaimed by archangels.

In your luminescent presence,

the darkness of my reason

find light and all the world

begin to have sense and order.

Here you are,

embracing my fears

and allowing me to be a bird

which cuts the breath,

without causing blood.

Never leave,

never die,

never stop being you,

My dear.







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