Your Compassion

Posted on July 29, 2020 by Karima Hoisan
thinking-of-you-kovacs-anna-brigitta

thinking-of-you-kovacs-anna-brigitta

Your Compassion

Then someone said,
“Well of course..
This is the time to think about our lives
to feel our mortality,
even the time to set things right.”

We have never been as unsure
as now,
to what the future brings,
to what might be waiting on
the other side,
when our door bell rings.

There is no insurance sold today,
to cover how long we get to stay.
So, if someone reaches out
from our forgotten past,
to say,
“I’m so sorry if I hurt you,
if I made you cry,
if I lied….
Please forgive me…”

Don’t withhold your love,
bathe them in
 your compassion.
How fragile we are,
we humans,
afraid we might all die,
realizing we might not have
the time,
to say what we want to say,
or just reach out and try…
and do it right to say goodbye.

And if we still have things left unsaid…
words we almost spoke,
letters we almost wrote,
phone numbers we almost called,
but hesitated until a later time…

Say them now! Reach out today.
Now is the time to realize,
tomorrow or the next hour
is not guaranteed,
and there is no assurance
that we will ever get another opportunity.

Karima Hoisan
July 29,2020
Costa Rica

(En Español)

Tu Compasión

Entonces alguien dijo:
“Bueno, por supuesto …
Este es el momento de pensar en nuestras vidas.
sentir nuestra mortalidad
incluso el momento de arreglar las cosas “.

Nunca hemos estado tan inseguros
como ahora,
a lo que trae el futuro
a lo que podría estar esperando
el otro lado,
cuando suena el timbre de nuestra puerta.

No hay seguro vendido hoy
para cubrir, cuánto tiempo nos quedamos.
Entonces, si alguien se acerca
de nuestro pasado olvidado,
y dice,
“Lamento mucho haberte lastimado,
si te hiciera llorar
si mintiera …
Por favor perdoname…”

No retengas tu amor
bañarlos en
Tu compasión.
Cuan frágil somos,
nosotros los humanos
temeroso de que todos podamos morir
dándonos cuenta de que tal vez no tengamos
el tiempo,
para decir lo que queremos decir,
o simplemente acercarte e intentar …
y hazlo bien para decir adiós.

Y si todavía nos quedan cosas sin decir …
palabras que casi dijimos
cartas que casi escribimos
números de teléfono que casi llamamos,
pero vacilábamos hasta más tarde …

¡Diles ahora! Llegar a ellos hoy.
Ahora es el momento de darse cuenta,
mañana o la próxima hora
no está garantizado
y no hay certeza que
alguna vez tendremos otra oportunidad.

Karima Hoisan
29 de Julio 2020
Costa Rica

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Two Poems from the Past

Posted on July 28, 2020 by Karima Hoisan

Untitled1

Possession Lost
for U.
~^~

I possessed your strangled dreams,
a husband dead,
and then you fled
your horrors of that war.
You cried so hard
your tears fell from my eyes
which made me
love you even more.

I don’t think you ever lied to me,
assured me you’d rather die,
well maybe just this last time
when you said,
“ma salaama is
not goodbye”

I am going through all
the mourning stages
just as if you’re
really dead.
They all say
This is good for me,
will bring me wholly back to life
stop me from
shuffling the zombie corridors
of my empty broken head.

I was the one who possessed you,
You peered out through my blue eyes.
You cried from the deepest parts of me,
your pain, released unburdened,
through my living breathing sighs

But here it comes..
the anger stage
I’ve been through
denial and pain
Really?
Was that ever an alternative
to never ever see you
in this life time
once again?
Was it possible you
just walked away?
Had no idea that
your sudden leaving
would send my reality into sway?

O.k. we used up plan A and B
but I was working on another,
to have you always by my side,
I would be your love and you the lover,
not like so many loves before
not like couples, mothers,brothers.
Were we not transplants by His fate?
Did we not grow
vital organs for each other?

“Soulmates. Soulmates”.
Sounds like a song for jumping rope.
It sounds so silly before the facts,
can a mated soul unhook itself,
drop all possession and not look back?
How can a conjoined twin
held by head and heart survive?
Did you dare to lay the scalpel there
and take out all the power of us
that once kept me alive?

Karima Hoisan
October 2007
Karak Jordan

Old Shoes
for U.
~^~
Last night you came alive to me in dreams,
Walked in my room to fill your vacant shoes,
No other could, that chance they all passed by
Their handicap too great, destined to lose.

You pressed your face to mine, I held my breath,
Inhaled my tears to feel you at my side,
Suspend me here in sweet unconsciousness!
For daybreak brings the painful truth you hide.

And in this dream you asked me for your shoes,
I thought it late for you to even try,
Like giving up a vice more than a year,
The flavor’s wrong, when too much time goes by.

Sweet haunting presence why not leave my world,
What good for you or I can this still be?
Your prolonged silence grows until it roars,
Weak broken will betrays resolve in me.

How arrogant false confidence burned bright,
I wrote a thousand words to say “I’m through”
No thought again to chance it all belies,
Belief in night’s cruel gift of seeing you.

But dreams are wondrous writers of the heart,
Each wish, a scene and may thy will be done,
A midnight walk and talk in specter’s realm,
Brings cries of anguish when dissolved by sun.

Just when I plead with you, to not take flight,
You walk away in shoes that fit just right.

Karima Hoisan
March 2009
Costa Rica

 

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Reality Check

Posted on July 26, 2020 by Karima Hoisan

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Reality Check
         ~^~
Yes! I remember…
The night sounds of summer,
Windows echoing the call to prayer,
The kids playing in the streets,
The wind blowing our sheets,
Curtains swaying to the beat,
With too loud music from a party somewhere,
A wedding procession honking their horns,
The smell of hot falafel,
Shrill sirens and voices,
Hot words and hot scorns.

We floated up through the ceiling
Left the TV behind,
Left the bed, left the room,
With our bodies entwined,
Left even those ridiculous hang-ups of mine.
We shot through the roof and hung in midair,
The apartment, the city now distant,
A pale glare…
We launched ourselves while fireworks
Burst in the air,
A doomed flight from the beginning,
Careening over the castle walls
A flash comet to nowhere.

Now,
I can only recall in the vaguest of ways
The feel and touch of your skin,
The open mouth laugh,
With your head thrown back,
Or that sly and mischievous grin.
…◊…
The only thing you are to me
Is what you used to be.
Now, it’s easier to hold that thought.
Some memory lives are quite finite
And today you don’t fill me;
You are no longer enough.

Karima Hoisan
October, 2007
Karak Jordan

(En Español)

¡Si! Recuerdo…
Los sonidos nocturnos del verano
Las ventanas repitiendo el llamado a la oración,
Los niños jugando en las calles
El viento que sopla nuestras sábanas,
Cortinas balanceándose al ritmo
Con música demasiado alta de una fiesta en alguna parte,
Una procesión nupcial tocando la bocina,
El olor a falafel caliente,
Sirenas y voces estridentes,
Palabras ardientes y desprecios cortantes.

Flotamos por arriba del techo
Dejamos atrás la televisión,
Dejamos la cama, salimos de la habitación,
Con nuestros cuerpos entrelazados,
Dejé incluso esos ridículos complejos míos.
Nos disparamos por el techo y colgamos en el aire,
El apartamento, la ciudad ahora distante,
Una mirada pálida …
Nos lanzamos mientras los fuegos artificiales
Estallaron en el aire
Un vuelo condenado desde el principio,
Deslizándose sobre los muros del castillo
Un cometa repentino para ninguna parte.

Ahora,
Solo puedo recordar de la manera más vaga
La sensación y el tacto de tu piel,
Tu risa con boca abierta,
Con la cabeza echada hacia atrás
O esa sonrisa astuta y traviesa.
… ◊ …
Lo único que eres para mi
Es lo que solías ser.
Ahora, es más fácil mantener ese pensamiento.
Algunas vidas de memoria son bastante finitas
Y hoy no me llenas;
Ya no eres suficiente.

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My Favorite Mirror

Posted on July 20, 2020 by Karima Hoisan
matisse

Anemone and Mirror Henri Matisse

My Favorite Mirror

I miss my favorite mirror, although I know it’s still there,
hanging in a limbo room, on a nail where Time is suspended.
The problem is, all the interference of these days, the dust that hides the surface,
the hazy room made of ears instead of cameos, anxiety instead of smiles;
All of this, makes my favorite mirror so hard to find; and I miss it.

My mirror always told me I was beautiful; it might have been a lie,
It did seem real..and each time it said that, I smiled and felt more alive.
I wish I could take it down and take it with me, walk in open fields and dance,
twirl it towards the sun, and blind myself in hope, in that good reflection.
I’d hold it over me and listen to it say again, “You are beauty and perfection”

I do admit that life without my mirror feels daily dull and sad somehow.
I know you always laugh, but without it I feel so inadequate, incompetent, scared.
I guess I could try holding my breath until this hard time moves on past itself,
Calming my insecurity, remembering that last time, my favorite mirror talked to me…
and there it was…in You……
your eyes reflecting me, your easy smile, your wide-open shining love for me…
“Hello again Beautiful”

Karima Hoisan
July 20, 2020
Costa Rica

(En Español)

Mi Espejo Favorito

Echo de menos mi espejo favorito, aunque sé que todavía está allí,
colgado en una sala de limbo, en un clavo donde el tiempo está suspendido
El problema es, toda la interferencia de estos días, el polvo que oculta la superficie,
la sala nebulosa hecha de orejas en lugar de cameos, ansiedad en lugar de sonrisas;
Todo esto hace que mi espejo favorito sea tan difícil de encontrar; y lo extraño

Mi espejo siempre me dijo que era hermosa; podría haber sido una mentira
Parecía real … y cada vez que decía eso, sonreía y me sentía más vivo.
Desearía poder bajarlo y llevarlo conmigo, caminar en campos abiertos y bailar,
Lo giro hacia el sol y me ciego de esperanza en ese buen reflejo.
Lo sostenía sobre mí y lo escuchaba decir de nuevo: “Eres belleza y perfección”

Admito que la vida sin mi espejo se siente a diario aburrida y triste de alguna manera.
Sé que siempre te ríes, pero sin eso me siento tan inadecuado, incompetente, asustada.
Supongo que podría intentar contener la respiración hasta que este momento difícil siga su camino,
Calmando mi inseguridad, recordando que la última vez, mi espejo favorito me habló
y ahí estaba … en Ti…
tus ojos reflejándome, tu sonrisa fácil, tu amor brillante y abierto por mí …
“Hola de nuevo Hermosa”

Karima Hoisan
20 de Julio de 2020

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El Miramar

Posted on July 17, 2020 by Karima Hoisan

Slide1

(En Español)

El Miramar

Estos tríos del pasado,
con su música llena de pasión y recuerdos,
abriendo las cortinas y paseando a los bailarines por el piso,
boleros, paso dobles, tangos. marcados,
con la mano extendida, “¿Te gustaría bailar conmigo?

Solo una canción puede llevarme a los tiempos,
cuando mi caballo estaba amarado afuera …
mientras yo daba vueltas y cruzaba el suelo arenoso,
las olas rompíendose en la marea alta.

Sensuales noches húmedas
de luna llena o sin luna,
el ligero frío del río, el mar fluorescente.
Me encantaría llevarte allí,
verlo conmigo, pedirme que bailara,.
y perdernos en el recuerdo,
en los tiempos que nunca volverán,
en el bar y restaurante conocido aptamente como
El Miramar.

Cada aliento, cada brisa cargada de juventud y oxígeno;
¡Respira profundo!
“¡Aiy Dios, este es mi favorito!”
corriendo de regreso
al ritmo de graves en auge y la armonía.

Roba un beso si te atreves,
estoy flotando en el embrujo,
mientras que me deslizo en tus brazos.
O llévame a dar un paseo al mar enfrente,
donde podemos quitarnos los zapatos,
y tentar a las olas.

Qué pena que no te conociera entonces …
hubiéramos iluminado el cielo mientras la banda descansaba.
Luego regresamos para no perdernos un baile,
cuando la banda comenzaba de nuevo.
Habríamos vuelto, tomados de la mano,
por supuesto que todos lo hubiera notado.

Nos habíamos enamorado en 5 minutos en la playa
porque… ¿Quién podría resistir?
Ese sensual hechizo latino
de música y aire oceánico que vivirá para siempre en mí,
en el bar y restaurante conocido aptamente como
El Miramar.

Karima Hoisan
17 de Julio, 2020
Costa Rica
hand
(In English)

The Miramar

These trios of the past,
with their music full of passion and memories,
opening the curtains and parading the dancers across the floor,
boleros, paso dobles, tangos. marcados,
a hand outstretched, “Would you care to dance?

Just one song can take me back to the times,
when my horse was parked outside..
while I twirled and sashayed across the sandy floor,
the waves crashing in high tide.

Sensual humid nights
of full moon or no moon,
the slight chill off the river, the florescent sea.
I’d love to take you there, see it with me,
ask me to dance and lose ourselves in the memory,
in the times that will never come again
at the bar and restaurant aptly known as
The Miramar.

Every breath, every breeze charged with youth and oxygen;
“Breathe in deep!”
“Aiy Dios this is my favorite!”
running back inside,
to the booming bass beat and the harmony.

Steal a kiss if you so dare,
I am floating on bewitchment,
while gliding in your arms.
Or take me for a walk to the shore out front,
where we can kick off our shoes
and tempt the waves.

What a shame I didn’t know you then…
We would have lit up the sky while the band took five.
Then run back in to not miss one dance,
when the band began again.
We’d have come back in holding hands,
of course they all would understand.

We had fallen in love in 5 minutes because who could resist?
That sensual Latin spell of music and ocean air that will live forever in me,
at the bar and restaurant aptly known as
The Miramar

Karima Hoisan
July 17th, 2020
Costa Rica

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So Sensitive

Posted on July 11, 2020 by Karima Hoisan
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“Sensitivity” by tsukiko-kiyomidzu  – Deviant Art

If you have heard all your life,”Oh you are just so sensitive”
Is it a curse to lament or a gift from the Higher Giver?
Maybe a bit of both, still I would not change my easily shattered ways.

I can hardly finish this sentence as the tears flow from my eyes.
I’m listening to a moving minor twist of violins in a glorious symphony,
over and over in a loop; it plays, fanning the flames, stroking my feelings.

Because I am so sensitive, I am a poet; I need my music night and day.
It pulls the poetry out of my soul, those deep chambers, hidden out of sight.
It pulls the tears from my eyes, the memories lodged and buried in rock.

I thought they’d never come loose, that all tears had been cried.
Then this symphony roars through my ears like a rolling high tide
and there they lay at my feet, on the sand, tears flooding my eyes.

Music has made me moan like a wounded animal when I’m so alone.
I can’t even write, without the right music; my pen dries up in silence.
I can’t even collect an idea, my basket is empty, in a field of creativity.

My muse is not to be found and a poor melody will not entice her.
She sleeps and turns her back on me, losing herself in her musings,
But, if I can find just the right song; she will bring the words along..and then…and then…
We may picnic on poetry!

* This piece can almost always make me write   Enjoy! Angelo Badalamenti

Karima Hoisan
July 11, 20202
Costa Rica

 

*En Español
Tan Sensible

Si has escuchado toda tu vida … “Oh, eres demasiado sensible”
¿Es una maldición lamentarse o un regalo del Dador superior?
Tal vez un poco de ambos, aún así no cambiaría mis formas fácilmente destrozadas.

Apenas puedo terminar esta oración mientras las lágrimas fluyen de mis ojos.
Estoy escuchando un pequeño giro de violines en una gloriosa sinfonía,
una y otra vez en un bucle; juega, avivando las llamas, acariciando mis sentimientos.

Como soy tan sensible, soy poeta; Necesito mi música día y noche.
Saca la poesía de mi alma, esas cámaras profundas, ocultas fuera de la vista.
Me saca las lágrimas de los ojos, los recuerdos alojados y enterrados en la roca.

Pensé que nunca se soltarían, que todas las lágrimas habían llorado.
Entonces esta sinfonía ruge por mis oídos como una marea alta
y allí yacían a mis pies, en la arena, las lágrimas inundaban mis ojos.

La música me ha hecho gemir como un animal herido cuando me siento sola.
Ni siquiera puedo escribir sin la música adecuada; mi pluma se seca en silencio
Ni siquiera puedo recoger una idea, mi cesta está vacía, en un campo de creatividad.

Mi musa no se encuentra y una melodía pobre no la atraerá
Ella duerme y me da la espalda, perdiéndose en sus pensamientos
Pero, si puedo encontrar la canción correcta; ella traerá las palabras … y luego … y luego …
¡Podemos hacer un picnic en la poesía!

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“Her Muse” by Jan Betts

Posted on July 8, 2020 by Karima Hoisan
Her Muse_Su Musa

“Her Muse” by Jan Betts – signed July 8th 2020

I am very excited to share this amazing painting by my dearest lifelong friend, Jan Betts.
This beautiful painting in acrylics on canvas,( 35 1/2″ x 25″ 92.71cm x 63.5cm ) is a gift she made for me as a symbol of our friendship that has spanned more years than we can count (or want to count:)
This gift is a true collaboration between us both, in that the vision we both brain-stormed, and the general theme, of portraying the muse, of Karima Hoisan The most iconic elements  that bind her to me and my real-life self, are captured in it.
Jan, as you can see in this piece, is a professional, world class artist, who has lived from her art for many decades. She put the brush to the canvas, but we collaborated on the subject, the elements and even  the colors. I told Jan, that I was certain we could work together and do it smoothly as:
1. We have been friends for years who don’t fight:)
2. I have learned the fine art of collaboration, by working the last 8 years so closely, with my video partner, Natascha Randt, who does the visual work to interpret my poems and our collective vision of how it should unfold… and we don’t fight:)
The artist, the brush on the canvas is all Jan, and her experience and her technique honed over the years, is so apparent in each stroke. I just wanted to honor my muse who has been  inspiring me over my entire lifetime…urging me on to write and write and is the true magical element behind anything I may have written well.
Jan has known me for a lifetime, her paintings over the years have inspired many poems of my own and started me off on the path of being an ekphrastic poet, one who is inspired by the visual arts and transforms the painted image into words. I have several large paintings of hers in my home, that I purchased over the years, and I treasure them.

“Her Muse”is a gift not only for an entire lifetime of loving wonderful friendship, but also as her way of saying “thank you” to me for inviting her to my home to let her recuperate last year for several months from an accident. This whole process of working together on this painting, I found amazing and very uplifting and exciting.
The main number one rule in artistic collaborations, is to just leave your ego outside before you begin. It makes no difference who thought up what, the final product should be something you both can feel proud of, feel the magic inside and just agree that, this is what you both worked for and now.. “It’s done”….. then, in this case, Jan signs it:)
Thank you Jan, words do not convey how much I love this painting and I hope my muse agrees:) as it is my gift to say to her how much I love her, need her and how grateful I am to have her in my life. I would not be a poet, or anything creative and artistic, without her:)
It will also daily remind me of how much I love you, Jan, and who we are and have always been for each other. Hugs you tight! Thank you for this incredible gift!

To see more of Jan’s Art Please go to her website, JanBetts.com Click Here She is a visionary, mystical artist whose images are uplifting, and meditative as well as beautiful…Give a click on the link and dive in..

 

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Gino’s Butterfly Seen Thru Alba’s Eyes

Posted on July 8, 2020 by Karima Hoisan

I few days ago I received a message in facebook from a very well-known Virtual World Hypergridder, Alba Rocca, ( who visits  many worlds in Opensim) with her compliments for my world, “Gino’s Butterfly” on Kitely -Virtual Worlds on Demand. She included so many wonderful photos, I just want to share some with you all.
“Gino’s Butterfly,” for those who do not know the story, is a virtual world I built with scripting help by Dale Innis, to honor the memory of a dear friend and family member who passed away in January of this year, Gino. He was a very gifted fashion designer, and his drawings that were left behind, I decided to parade them virtually while I told the highlights of his story.
Thank you so much Alba, for visiting and for taking so many great pictures. It means a lot to me:) So, please enjoy the fruits of my labor of love, as seen through Alba’s eyes.  Enjoy!
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Alba3_
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If it looks interesting to you come visit… Hypergrid address: grid.kitely.com:8002:Gino’s Butterfly and by url: https://www.kitely.com/virtual-world/Karima-Hoisan/Ginos-Butterfly
Let us know how you enjoyed it!

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The Summer of 2020

Posted on July 3, 2020 by Karima Hoisan

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The will of it, the will and the way
Earth turns and summer is reborn one more time
so many times in one lifetime
Just this time, we are invited by the billboards
by our cellphones and TV to watch it unfold
at our gates and through our windows
Just Stay Home!

This summer we don’t do much
We are scattered shells on empty beaches
We stay apart and shield our faces
No swimming yet, no traveling yet
No backgammon games with the neighbors
We wave over fences, we pull our lawns out and plant vegetables
Small gardens, organic of course, and we hope no one will tread
upon the little seedlings, and knock on our doors.
”Be respectful, this might be all we get to eat!
“Are they really coming here? Why here?”
“Just leave the groceries on the step outside
I left a tip under the mat”
No visitors no back yard BBQ’s or block party beer fests
No tango classes or even school classes
no high school, no college, no mixing
What are your plans this summer?
To not get sick or die or infect a bunch of innocents
with my invisible murder hornets, that fly out
from every word I speak, when I sing, when I sneeze

We are all trying not to get sick
Those are our plans for this summer
Not get sick or sicken anyone else
The summer of 2020

When our masks become the everyday look.
Everyone looks normal with their faces covered up
And oh how chic she is wearing a shield
The kind that you put on like glasses how easy and practical
and people have conversations 6 feet apart about which ones are the best
the cheapest the easiest to find
and if we spy someone barefaced, we wide side-step them,
or cross the street, throw a frown, or even a fit
and ask them to leave our coffee shop, our vegetable stands, our taxis
Sickness blows around us, through the streets in little tiny particles
clogging up our tears ducts even smaller particles ravaging our lungs
Our families, leaving us hopeless
Macro-micro invaders
Dust and microscopic platoons spreading out and waiting
for us to bare-handedly touch them, or suck on our fingers idly
without washing first, inhale them while laughing
walk into the wrong place at the wrong time and get pepper sprayed
by these wily troops whose only mission is
To seek, Get inside and Destroy!
These hoards that multiply by the nano-second
We don’t perceive them with our senses
and in this record breaking heat
It’s hard to feel anything but cranky

How easy it would be to give up in the summer of 2020
Only see the negative that begins to warp our sanity
But while there’s love and music and poetry and children
who believe in magic and grown-ups and next year
I fasten my mask around my ears and take a walk
Where I see the most glorious rainbow arching high above me…

Karima Hoisan
July 3, 2020
Costa Rica

En Español

La voluntad de ella … la voluntad y el camino
La tierra gira y el verano renace una vez más
tantas veces en una vida
Justo esta vez, nos invitan las vallas publicitarias
por nuestros teléfonos celulares y TV para ver cómo se desarrolla
a nuestras puertas y a través de nuestras ventanas
Solo Quédate en Casa!

Este verano no hacemos mucho
Somos conchas dispersas en playas vacías
Nos mantenemos separados y protegemos nuestras caras
Sin nadar todavía, sin viajar todavía
No hay juegos de backgammon con los vecinos.
Saludamos por las cercas, sacamos el césped y sembramos vegetales
Pequeños jardines, orgánicos, por supuesto, y esperamos que nadie pise
sobre las pequeñas plántulas, y toca nuestras puertas.
“Sea respetuoso, ¡esto podría ser todo lo que podamos comer!
“¿Realmente vienen aquí? ¿Por qué aquí?”
“Solo deja los comestibles en la grada afuera
Dejé una propina debajo de la alfombra de bienvenida”
No hay visitantes, no hay barbacoas en el patio trasero ni fiestas de cerveza
No hay clases de tango o incluso clases escolares.
sin escuela secundaria, sin universidad, sin mezclarse
¿Cuáles son tus planes para este verano?
No enfermarse, morir o infectar a un grupo de inocentes.
con mis avispones invisibles de asesinato, que vuelan
por cada palabra que digo, cuando canto, cuando estornudo

Todos estamos tratando de no enfermarnos
Esos son nuestros planes para este verano.
No enfermarse ni enfermar a nadie más.
El verano de 2020

Cuando nuestras máscaras se convierten en el look cotidiano.
Todos se ven normales con sus caras cubiertas
Y oh, qué elegante está usando un escudo
Del tipo que te pones como gafas, fácil y práctico.
y las personas tienen conversaciones a 6 pies de distancia sobre cuáles son las mejores
el más barato el más fácil de encontrar
y si espiamos a alguien con la cara descubierta, los esquivamos
o cruzar la calle, fruncir el ceño o incluso un ataque verbal
y pedirles que salgan de nuestra cafetería, nuestros puestos de verduras, nuestros taxis
La enfermedad sopla a nuestro alrededor, a través de las calles en pequeñas partículas
obstruyendo nuestros conductos de lágrimas, incluso partículas más pequeñas que devastan nuestros pulmones
Nuestras familias, dejándonos sin esperanza.
Macro-micro invasores
Polvo y pelotones microscópicos extendiéndose y esperando
para que podamos tocarlos con las manos desnudas, o chupar nuestros dedos sin pensar, sin lavarlos primero, inhalarlos mientras se ríe
entrar al lugar equivocado en el momento equivocado y rociarse con pimienta
por estas astutas tropas cuya única misión es
Buscar, Entrar y Destruir!
Estas acumulaciones que se multiplican por el nano-segundo
No los percibimos con nuestros sentidos.
y en este récord rompiendo el calor
Es difícil sentir otra cosa que mal humor

Qué fácil sería rendirse en el verano de 2020
Solo vemos lo negativo que comienza a deformar nuestra cordura
Pero mientras haya amor, música, poesía y niños.
que creen en la magia y los adultos y el año que viene
Me pongo la máscara alrededor de las orejas y salgo a caminar
Donde veo el arcoíris más glorioso arqueándose por encima de mí

 

Posted in General Discussion, Poems, Uncategorized | Tagged , , , , , | 11 Comments

Constructed in Verse

Posted on June 29, 2020 by Karima Hoisan
The Owl King's Daughter318a5

The Owl King’s Daughter

Constructed in Verse

She poured her heart out on paper, which left her so empty inside.
Why this necessity, this imperative to find the words and speak
out loud to blank pages, to ears that don’t hear?
The few that might read her, would they ever understand
that’s what she was doing?
Or, would they just hear gibberish, a cocktail napkin of unmatched words
like odd socks one would never wear in public?

Well, she had explained it before, but who really listens anymore?
Who takes the time to even read, let alone understand a poetic intention?
Who has the patience to understand her?
To realize that when a poet breaks her heart
wide open for all to see,
the only real cure and salve, the needle and thread, the recovery bed,
is to write write write her poetry.

When her heart cracked open wide..she fled, climbing
ascending stairs higher and higher.
She shunned the sun and the daylight sounds,
for a small attic room she made dark as night
She was now in her tower,
her blood spilling on the floor..
mopping it up with paper, filling her pen with it, she wrote..

Her tragedy converted into alchemy; poetry was born again!
From disillusionment and pain; a mess of tangled thoughts in red,
was her own special way back to sane.
Poetry was not her idle pastime, or her dice and card game; poetry defined her.
She was constructed in verse, and healed in cinquians,,
If you knew just a little bit of what her poems were saying,
you could be her savior, her knight of knights and her brave saint…
and…. there is a good chance you would probably be a poet.

Karima Hoisan
June 29, 2020
Costa Rica

En Español

 

Construida en Verso

Ella vertió su corazón en papel, lo que la dejó tan vacía por dentro.
Por qué esta necesidad, este imperativo de encontrar las palabras y hablar
en voz alta a páginas en blanco, a oídos que no oyen?
Los pocos que podrían leerla, ¿alguna vez lo entenderían,,,
que eso es lo que estaba haciendo?
O, ¿escucharían simplemente galimatías, una servilleta de cóctel de palabras inigualables
como calcetines disparejos, que uno nunca usaría en público?

Bueno, ya lo había explicado antes, pero ¿quién realmente escucha hoy día?
¿Quién se toma el tiempo de leer, y mucho menos entender una intención poética?
¿Quién tiene la paciencia para entenderla?
Darse cuenta de que cuando un poeta le rompe el corazón
abierto para que todos lo vean,
el único remedio y ungüento real, la aguja y el hilo, el lecho de recuperación,
es escribir escribir escribir su poesía.

Cuando su corazón se abrió de par en par … huyó, trepando
escaleras ascendentes cada vez más altas.
Ella evitó el sol y la luz y los sonidos del día,
para una pequeña habitación en el ático que oscureció como la noche
Ella estaba ahora en su torre,
su sangre derramándose en el piso …
limpiando con papel, llenando su bolígrafo con ella, escribió …

Su tragedia se convirtió en alquimia; ¡La poesía nació de nuevo!
De desilusión y dolor; un lío de pensamientos enredados en rojo,
era su propio camino especial de regreso a la cordura.
La poesía no era su pasatiempo ocioso, ni su juego de dados y cartas; la poesía la definió.
Fue construida en verso y sanada en cinquain.
Si supieras un poco de lo que decían sus poemas,
podrías ser su salvador, su caballero de caballeros y su valiente santo …
y … hay muchas posibilidades de que también serías un poeta.

Karima Hoisan
29, de Junio 2020
Costa Rica

 

Posted in Poems, Uncategorized | Tagged , , , , | 18 Comments