Despertares

En estos tiempos fugaces
hay pocos momentos en los que estamos cerca
pero esos momentos son eternos.

6 de Marzo 2011

Soy de arena

Soy de arena

que el viento lleva

los mil ojos abiertos

del árbol seductor me contemplan

desnudándome, cortándome

la cabeza

sea piel la que llevo por vestimenta

y pestañas las que decoran mis ojos

abiertos los mil ojos

del árbol seductor me contemplan

desnudándome, cortándome

la cabeza

mis piernas no sostienen

tiemblo y me requiebro

fernahkerze

@-\-----/----

eine kerze eines abends
dachte ich an meine Liebe
fern und gleichzeitig nah
fühlt sich seine wärme

eine kerze aller abende
fühle ich gleichzeitig
seine liebe seine wärme

licht meines weges
meine schritte fest
mein herz in wolken
fernah
hier und da
llena de sueños cercanos a tí
schliesse die augen
schwinde die gedanken
bist du da
vor meinen augen

---------------- erstes versuch 01:25, 21/02/2009

La Mujer y Su Belleza

Dicen que las modas ahora resaltan más los atributos del cuerpo. Aquí las mujeres y los hombres andan apagados. Si sólo hablo de las mujeres podría decir que lo que más les gusta vestir son negros, marrones, grises y azules pálidos. El color fuerte anda disimulado como un detalle, un poquito de fucsia, un poquito de verde limón, nada picante, nada saltón. Lo más triste es verlas todas pintadas, ojos, mejillas, boca, uñas y hasta tienen la piel bronceada pero no tienen sonrisa. La sonrisa coqueta, franca y pícara es mejor que cualquier maquillaje. Si de tanta emancipación hablan, mejor dejen de hablar y desaten su encanto, liberen su pasión.

Befreie dich von der Schönheitsindustrie.

iQué ganas de ocultarse detrás de tantos polvos! Qué lástima apretarse la vida de jeans stretch, de dietas y de cirugías.

iQué viva la coquetería!

Sofía R.

Die Nacht und Du

Die Nacht und Du sind eins. Deine dunkle und geheimnisvolle Stille umfasst mich vorm Einschlafen. Und sobald die Sonne aufgeht, bist du weg.

nsrl

Auf meinem Bett mit Tageslicht

Cosquilleo

Quiero defender el cosquilleo.

El círculo vicioso del placer de estar contigo!

Ser mil y uno mismo

He escuchado muchas veces que el secreto de vivir y convivir con el resto es ser uno mismo. Estuve de acuerdo con esta afirmación por mucho tiempo. Pero en los últimos años me he dado cuenta que no soy uno/a, soy muchos/as a la vez.

Aparentemente soy una mujer joven, estudiante de física, inmigrante latinoamericana en un país europeo. A veces creo escuchar en mi una voz de hombre que comanda mi vida, como si la mujer que soy fuese muy débil para tal tarea. Sí, soy hombre o quiero ser hombre, por el talento lógico y desconsiderado con el que desempeñan sus trabajos y toman sus decisiones, incluídas las personales. Pero al mismo tiempo creo que hay una voz sensual que me susurra aprender a pintarme los ojos, a usar faldas, una señorita coqueta que se enfrenta con la descuidada estudiante que no soporta las uñas largas ni pintadas, y jamás pretendería seguir la moda de perforarse el cuerpo o pintarse con algún tatuaje.

Y mientras mi cuerpo se ha dejado seducir por el placer sexual, en otro rincón quizás no en los muslos ni en mis pechos, sino más bien en el corazón de mi existencia, es decir en mi cerebro, las preguntas se multiplican y la científica sentada con lápiz y papel no deja de calcular. Probablemente no sea la única de mis yos con estas herramientas, también está la poeta que se hunde en laberintos, escaleras infinitas, y los corazones partidos de su imaginación.

Hay tiempos en los que todos/as dentro de mí se atropellan por tener el rol principal. No sé a cual de todas esas voces debo escuchar. Pero en los momentos de descanso todos se ponen de acuerdo para escuchar alguna pieza de Debussy o un bolero de Feliciano.

Creo que el arte de vivir es saber convivir con todos y todas los y las que llevas dentro y dejar vivir poco a poco a cada pedacito de tí.

Sofía Rodríguez

3 de Nov 2006

About beliefs

Hello Al, I think this could be an answer to that old email you sent me. But please remember I ignore much more than what I know.

* * *

What is it we don’t know how to explain? Many people call it God (in any kind of religion or personal beliefs). In my case, the word God cannot come out from my mouth as an answer to such a complex question. It can’t. For me there is no God. I have some beliefs, but no God. Why? Let me tell you my story with God.

My family and Peruvian society created God for me. He is the unseen big man, father, powerful spiritual author of Love. I did not create him, I did not even think about it. I was two years old and was baptized without my will. And God was behind it. And between God and me there were the Church, the Good and the Evil, the sins. The whole catholic scenario. I was raised in a play and I had a role without knowing it: the obedient believing girl. Years past and soon I started asking me questions. Big ones. About the Truth. Do I need to go to church to be with God? What is really Communion for? Is He really gonna help me? I talked to God in my mind for a long time. No answers. If I was sad, I was staying sad, no comfort, no help, no light. No Church or God could answer me those questions. Luckily, I have a father and brother who were not playing theatrically, they preferred to talk to me about other important and beautiful things. And friends and teachers helped me also to enrich my fascination about life and solve some of my questioning.

It took quiet a long time to have my beliefs in some way clear. I had a First Communion and a Confirmation behind me. So I was an old teenager. I don’t remember when I stopped talking to God before sleeping. But I did. And it felt right and I was relieved. And He does not exist. In my world there is no God. And it is not sad. From those conflicting times with religion I only kept one crux, and it does not represent belief it represents doubt, conflict, darkness, confusion. It is a souvenir of my past chaotic spiritual life.

Nowadays I still live in doubts and ignorance but it is for me much more pleasant to deal with those unknown things around me. There are a lot of things we cannot explain. Nevertheless, our task in the world is not to explain everything: the existence of God, of nature or the humanity. I believe we are here to enjoy. To enjoy who we are and the place where we are, in all kind of different aspects. We can enjoy ourselves having sex or understanding humans’ anatomy or talking to people and helping them, or analyzing them socio-scientifically; and this amazing Earth can be enjoyed eating delicious dishes, traveling, smelling, appreciating animals, trees or landscapes. What a beauty around us, inside of us, in our imagination and dreams. I believe in these beauties because they make life worth.

Humans are so complex, so extraordinary and so stupid. We can hurt (without) knowing it, we can love, we can smile and cry and we can make mistakes and have fears and (not) learn from them. We are strong, weak, deep, caring, funny. I believe in humans, in their intelligence and passions. Everyone is special. No matter their beliefs, their nationalities or opinions. And without having a God, I can say we are brothers and sisters because we belong to the same species, we are homo sapiens. We are animals. And therefore we cannot deny our instincts. Is it an instinct to have a God? Or someone some-when somehow somewhere created it and passed from mouth to mouth, from generation to generation the idea of God?

I asked myself once what is the motor of life? Is it love? Is it sex? Is it money? I called it magic (very girlie), which implies all of them and who knows maybe something else too. And for others it is God, and I respect their beliefs. I do. But I cannot understand why we have religions. And when I think about religions, I think about institutions. Believing is a very personal intimate activity and we are never going to believe the same things with another person. We cannot think the same thing, because we all have a different story behind our backs. Therefore there is no chance for coming together and build a religion, it is absurd but it happens. It’s outside, it is happening and there are wars because of this personal item. I believe it is possible we could actually fight everybody against everybody because we all think different but we don’t do it, because some of us know that violence does not produce progress. Tolerance does. But some of them are powerful and smart and know some of us are weak and people’s beliefs are transformed in religions and religions could transform people in warriors. And that is insane.

Instead of fighting against each other because of our beliefs, we could fight together against hunger, poverty, against lack of education, of culture, of information, against frontiers between countries, against racism, against homophobia, against discrimination in any kind. We are one world with different kind of people, and if we do not learn how to coexist with ourselves and our environment, we are going to kill ourselves. It’s alarming. And I still believe in us. Unbelievable!

And I’m sure if I could believe in myself a bit more (because I do already) to be brave enough, I…I still don’t know what I would do with it.

————————————————————-

I believe in humans
I believe in beauty
I believe in love
I believe in the power of imagination
and craziness
I believe in pure smiling
I believe in change
I believe in feelings more than in rationality
I believe in silence, music
and words
I believe in loneliness and friendship
I believe in pain
I believe in anger
I believe in contradictions

I believe in Me.

————————————————————

Sofía Rodríguez

P.S: Sixth belief: I believe in change. So feel free to comment.

La misma foto

hace cinco años, parada en la misma avenida pardo, sobre el mismo suelo, con la misma mirada, como si estuviese a tu izquierda, porque las líneas de la calle tienen otro ángulo, yo sin neblina y con luz de día tomé la misma foto en blanco y negro… hace cinco años a tu izquierda como si la luz del día tuviese otro ángulo tomé la foto con neblina y el suelo en blanco y negro y la avenida pardo no estaba parada ni la mirada era la misma…hace neblina y yo misma estaba en blanco y negro y tu tenías otro ángulo como si tu suelo estuviese a tu izquierda y tu mirada estaba parada y parda como la avenida, las líneas de la calle no eran las mismas y tus cinco años ya no tenían luz de día…

con la cabeza en Lima, 15 de Enero

My Deaths : The considerate and offended Death – 4th of Dec 07

«The truth is scandalous. But without it, nothing has any worth. An honest and naive vision of the world is already a masterpiece… As you approach the truth, your solitude will increase.» Michel Houellebecq

 

Yesterday I died. I’ve died many times.

Yesterday I felt it and remember telling Friend about the implosion in my body, I just could reproduce it with a gesture of my wide open mouth and an awkward ‘wa’. That’s the way it started.

 

The Death already warned me of its coming on Sunday (three days ago). Silent, big and wide She came yesterday and waited for me while I was reading an extraordinary book. I tasted the last beauty. How considerate. I can’t complain. She gave me laughs and smiles before my agony.

 

I closed the book when Friend told the students to leave the library. I was the first to leave. Before dying I wanted to say goodbye to Special Friend but I knew the Death was waiting. So We, She and I, left this world very slowly. You could see me walking like anyone else. But you couldn’t see Her. She took the bus with me till the last station. I can remember how it started to hurt; the implosion started to burn me, and eat me from inside. It broke my eyes in tears. My strength disappeared and my legs were too heavy for my body. I walked slowly to the river and sat behind the second monument under its shadow.

 

The Death prepared it all: A fantastic dance of white birds entertained me for more than twenty minutes. Beautiful. My eyes smiled. My secret place and one of my secret passions. Thank you, Death.  But that was not all. There was a last present for me before the leaving. A leaving party. I laughed, made jokes, drunk, laughed again, smile here, smile there, warm hugs and goodbye. Goodbye.

 

We came back home at almost twelve o’clock. I was tired, and so did She. She took a breath, I made a call. No answer. I left a message: Don’t worry about me. I’m OK. Good night. Byyye. The Death looked into my smiling face. My eyes, my nose, my breath and my lips did not give a sign of suffering. The Death got offended. She beded me. She closed my eyes and said Welcome to the Beginning.

 

Around me there was only silence. Inside me it was loud, stormy, pushy. The rupture lasted hours. Everybody slept. I died.

 

 

Sofía Rodríguez

Wü, 6th of Dez 07