Gosh! it's sad, but proves we're alive.

thanks, for coming by, John...

...funny how the body reminds the mind of things...good things...from the past...

Life is settling back down, and I am able again to visit some of my old haunts. I am happy that I returned here for this one.

You know that sound? The one we make after we've just gulped down a refreshing ice-cold drink to quench our thirst? That sound of ahhhhhh? That's what this was like .... a poem that made me think and say ahhhhh

memories flooding in ...

A good kind of flashback! Anything that makes us remember what it was like to discover the world as a kid es bueno.

sparkling drops of yesteryear

That’s the way of memories sometimes they come in the form of a deluge
~R~

Nice.

'suddenly pulsing,' yes. i know this feeling, catch. perfectly described.

ya vendrá
la lluvia...

thanks for stopping by, gente fina ~

drink deeply the next time you drink...

Capi... y con ella una inundación divina…

drink deeply the next time you drink..
mmm hmmm.
enjoyed.

A dive and when submerged bounce hands down up in a bubbled void kicking toward salvation.

Very refreshing.

Una inundación,
divina por su dulzura,
cayendo gota por gota sin cesar;

por el río bogo mi bongo
mucho más que tres puños mide,
llena de anzuelos y un sabio sacerdote...

La boca del rio
Casi llena, casi plena
Abierta como un espejo
Así podemos remar bien lejos
Rezar con los sacerdotes más viejos
Usando las manos y nada más

hey, rita...no point in not enjoying, verdad?

J.P. Hart ~ I read that and hear music.

VA ~ the importance of staying hydrated can not be overstated...

usando las manos y nada más,
pruebo las aguas que nunca son
las mismas ni el mismo río que vi

hace un minuto atrás;
cuestiona mi propio reflejo
que veo mirandome sin desdén...

las aguas cambian, las caras cambian
pero siempre hay ternura
para los que la busquen
no importa ni los pecados ni las pecas

pescados pecaminosos y pecosos
así no seamos todos nosotros
yacidos en la sentina;

por las bocas tiernas
hemos tragado toda la vida,
no queda más que viento en las agallas...

¡Oh, I.I.!

Las bocas picosas
Besadas hasta que sean rosadas
Nacidas, dolidas pero listas y finas
El viento, si escuchas bien,
Te dirá todo que quieres saber

Oye, piragüero, eres tan bueno jugar conmigo. Sometimes the words leave me pining for them…but I know they will always come for me eventually.

todo lo que quisimos saber... a la deriva,
a flote en el río, recorriendo la turbulencia,
sin prisa, ni apenas un parpadeo del sacerdote,

acostodo en su litoral humeante de hojas húmedas de roble;
nos mira con un foco relajado, como si fuese él, el único y verdadero Ojo de Agua manantial; tan seguro en sí mismo que picaremos
el anzuelo en nuestro recorrido picante del río,
aguas abajo, hacia la boca del serpiente...

(adelante cariño, si quieres... saludos 2y2!)

*acostado* (sic)

ese agua en mi boca

ya no sé quien soy...

Am I the only one who takes perhaps a different meaning to this...
ah well.

~Oye, rita ~

No, mi paisana, mi pana, you got it just right.
Remembering one of those boys who
By now is surely one of those hombres bien chidos
Uno de esos que te mueve el piso
You know, rita, a boy who might remind you what it means to be thirsty…should you have forgotten for a second...

I.I. ~ Es que…debajo el agua mi invierte todo…

I thought so, I am not so old I don't remember that kind of thirsty..

I.I. ~*me invierte todo

rita ~ I have no doubt, guapa.
I hope to drink as deep as I sense you do in this fine life ~

subes, respiras...

pulmones y ojos conformándose
con el horizonte inventado...

subes y r e s p i r a s . . .

smile and close my eyes ~

I am spying and it is leading me to beautiful music and sensual lyrics (translations).. peeking through closed shades of language, so sorry.

rita shibr, you are always welcome here, compa ~

rita poeta, everything in the open here amiga...

~ my version so far (blessed catch's is guaranteed to be different!)

I.I. - now the rain will come...

catch - and with it a devine deluge...

I.I. - a deluge/devine for its sweatness/falling drop by drop without cease/I paddle my punt down the river/more than three fists it measures/full of hooks and a wise priest...

catch - the mouth of the river/almost replenished, almost full/open like a mirror/so we can row out really far/pray with the oldest of priests/using only our hands and nothing more...

I.I. - using the hands and nothing more/I test the waters that are never/the same waters nor the same river I saw/just a minute before;/I question my own reflection/that I see watching me without scorn...

catch - waters change, faces change/but there's always tenederness/for those who may wish to seek it/neither sins nor freckles matter...

I.I. - speckled and sinful fish/aren't we all/laid out in the bilge/through tender mouths/we've drunk the life entire/nothing remains but wind in the gills...

catch - spicy mouths/kissed until they're rosy/born, hurting but ready and fine/the wind, if you listen well/will tell you everything you want to know...

I.I. - everything we wanted to know... adrift/afloat on the river/swept in the turbulence/without haste, hardly (even) a blink of the priest/stretched out on the smoky banks of damp oak leaves/looking at us with a lazy orb, as if he were the one true Water's Eye/eternal spring; so sure of himself that we'll bite/the hook, in our hot, river pursuit/downstream, toward the serpents mouth...

*catch, poeta... I'm sure you might see it differently (¿?)... but, still, what a pleasure dancing words contigo always. Saludos veinte y 2!

(rita también!)

oh so much more to savor than the fragments of google translation. Loving all stanzas but especially, some led me to some beautiful songs, bits of understanding without words. I thank you both for that.


catch - spicy mouths/kissed until they're rosy/born, hurting but ready and fine/the wind, if you listen well/will tell you everything you want to know...

I.I. - everything we wanted to know... adrift/afloat on the river/swept in the turbulence/without haste, hardly (even) a blink of the priest/stretched out on the smoky banks of damp oak leaves/looking at us with a lazy orb, as if he were the one true Water's Eye/eternal spring; so sure of himself that we'll bite/the hook, in our hot, river pursuit/downstream, toward the serpents mouth...
One word. Yes.

just like that, I.I.

Words of fire, about water. This is what I love about Latina Poetry. I read this again and again, then I realized I was gulping the words, trying to quench my own fire.
R+Facebook bound!