marta > Recent Status Updates

Morir: potser només
perdre forma i contorns
desfer-se, ser
xuclada endins
de l'úter viu,
matriu de déu
mare: desnéixer.

Furgant per les llivanyes i juntures
d'aquesta paret seca; entre mac
i mac d'oblit; entre les pedres dures
de cega desmemòria que endures,
et sé. I saber-te em dóna terra, arrel.
Et sé i em sé, en el mirall fidel
del teu poema, aferrissadament
clivella pedra de silenci opac
—dona rèptil, dona monstre, dona drac,
com el cactus, com tu, supervivent.

(...)
I sovint, al mirall, la veig a Ella
rescatada de no sé quina cendra.
No li facis cap cas quan Ella et parla,
encara que m'usurpi veu i rostre.
I si et barra la porta de sortida
amb el seu cos amorós i brutal
cal que la matis sense cap recança.
Fes-ho per mi també i en el meu nom:
Jo la tinc massa endins i no sabria
aturar-me al llindar del suïcidi.

(...)
Yo quisiera haber sido delineante,
o delirante Safo sensitiva
y heme,
aquí,
que soy una perdida
entre tanto mangante.
Lo digo para todo el que me lea,
quise ser capitán, sin arma alguna,
depositar mis versos en la luna
y un astronauta me pisó la idea.

De PAZ por esos mundo quise ser traficante
—me detuvieron por la carretera—
soy sólo una mujer, de cuerda entera,
soy sólo una mujer y ya es bastante

What was the point if every road led back to the same shame? (...) inside my heart is a little man with a broken heart.

The performance of certainty seemed to be at the root of so much grief. (...) The genesis of everyone's pain had to be external (...) and so legislators legislated, building border walls...
"The pain we feel comes from them, not ourselves," said the banners, and people cheered, certain of all the certainty.
But the next day they'd wake up and find that what had hurt in them still hurt.

"(...) the men sent into battle with keys around their necks, keys to heaven they're told, and some of them not even men yet, it must be said, some of them boys with men's names (...), children walking around puffed up like men in men's clothes and men's names, as if the names made them men, as if wearing a man's boot could..."

L'odi que feia temps que bullia dins seu brollava sense vessar, i el dolor que feia temps que estava inflamat continuava allà sense rebentar.
Res no s'havia curat.
Res no s'havia acabat.
(...)
Els mots i les frases s'han separat del seu cos com si fossin espectres que la segueixen de ben a prop perquè encara els pugui veure i sentir.

¿Qui té el coratge de fer el contrari del que li han ensenyat?

De vegades he pensat que som com som segons qui s’alegra que existim.
/
Es passen com un virus, els traumes, (...). Tindrem parelles i fills a qui ja sabem que embrutirem l’ànima en un grau o altre, segons com de conscients siguem de la femta que arrosseguem. Relacions patològiques que es perpetuen a menys que algun membre se n’adoni i decideixi acabar-les, tractar-les, ensinistrar-les.

(...)

I have known this boy before, who
ornaments my alley.
I never saw his face at all.
I never saw his futurefall.
But I have known this Boy.

I have always heard him deal with death.
I have always heard the shout, the volley.
I have closed my heart-ears late and early.
And I have killed him ever.

I joined the Wild and killed him
with knowledgeable unknowing.
I saw where he was going.

(...)

'There is love, too, in Little Rock. Soften women softly
Opening themselves in kindness,
Or, pitying one's blindness,
Awaiting one's pleasure
In azure
Glory with anguished rose at the root...
To wash away old semi-discomfitures.
They re-teach purple and unsullen blue.
The wispy soils go. And uncertain
Half-havings have they clarified to sures.

In Little Rock they know
(...)
That it is our business to be bothered...'

'

still do I keep my look, my identity ...

Each body has its art, its precious prescribed
Pose, that even in passion's droll contortions, waltzes,
Or push of pain—or when a grief has stabbed.
Or hatred hacked—is its, and nothing else's.
Each body has its pose. No other stock
That is irrevocable, perpetual
And its to keep. In castle or in shack.
With rags or robes. Through good, nothing, or ill.
(...)

M'AMAGARÉ FURTIVAMENT

M'amagaré furtivament
en l'ahir. Pretèrit
sense esperança.

I guardaré la por estrenyent-la
entre els meus braços
com el més valuós tresor.

I ja no sabré si aquell ahir
haurà esdevingut l'avui
on em costa reconèixer-me.

-44-

'For anger between peers births change, not destruction, and the discomfort and sense of loss it often causes is not fatal, but a sign of growth.'