{"id":2022,"date":"2019-09-01T13:42:47","date_gmt":"2019-09-01T18:42:47","guid":{"rendered":"http:\/\/hibridoliterario.com\/sitio\/?p=2022"},"modified":"2019-09-03T00:18:33","modified_gmt":"2019-09-03T05:18:33","slug":"rocio-uchofen-2","status":"publish","type":"post","link":"https:\/\/hibridoliterario.com\/sitio\/?p=2022","title":{"rendered":"Roc\u00edo Uchofen"},"content":{"rendered":"\n

Rocio Uchofen<\/a><\/p>\n\n\n\n

Recipiente de una micro-residencia por la New York Poetry Society 2019<\/p>\n\n\n\n

<\/p>\n\n\n\n

Poema 2 (Geometr\u00eda de la Urbe)<\/strong><\/p>\n\n\n\n

\u00bfPodr\u00edas sentarte y tocar el piano
mientras te observo y saboreo un Merlot
del 2009?
El tiempo puede escurrirse por los intersticios
de esta pared que se asemeja
a mi piel y que respira
los acordes de una melod\u00eda deshecha
bajo el paso del tren.
El tiempo es inevitable y se desliza por
esos techos forrados en petr\u00f3leo,
toda la noche es una carretera escondida
un t\u00fanel sinuoso, aqu\u00ed se ahogan
los ojos y las horas.
Si tocas, olvidar\u00e9 los goteos de
las cornisas.
Anoche revent\u00f3 una luna y sus
pedazos brillantes llenaron de sonidos
estos espacios perdidos entre la alfombra y el
concreto h\u00famedo.
Cuando llegaste ten\u00edas un l\u00e1piz entre los dedos
y el deseo de llenar hojas y hojas,
y muchas m\u00e1s hojas blancas o a cuadr\u00edculas,
quisiste armar cuadernos de met\u00e1foras,
so\u00f1aste tu cabeza contra el Brooklyn Bridge
y amaste la visi\u00f3n de Crane tras unos vidrios.
Di\u00e1stole y s\u00edstole embriagando tu recuerdo,
discerniendo la \u00edntima relaci\u00f3n entre tus pasos
y las fases de la luna,
o los ojos deste\u00f1idos de alguna mujer
escondida tras su velo hecho cortina.
Ese deseo se llen\u00f3 de noches
para acallar todo lo que le fuera ajeno a tu
sabor,
el olor de tus frases o tu verbo.
Pero ya no hablemos de eso,
s\u00f3lo toca,
toca el piano y que su m\u00fasica
lama las huellas de Lorca en Morningside Heights,
entre ladrillos rojos de su sue\u00f1o gitano
y tiernamente mojado por la
baba de los durmientes.
Besa el dedo que se nutre de los tulipanes
h\u00edbridos
y acu\u00e9rdate de m\u00ed.
Mi cuerpo tambi\u00e9n sangra y sufre,
pero mi boca imita el susurro
de las palomas harapientas
para que calle el ladrillo
manchado de piel.
Hay que cerrar los ojos,
hay que cerrar la boca:
Cierra las bocas
o ll\u00e9nalas de nieve negra,
que deje sus huellas por las
calles o que enmudezca
de una vez para
que el cielo rece un lullaby:
\u00bb Duerme urbe de \u00e1ticos l\u00edmpidos.
Duerme.
Un monstruo late, late y enrosca
su cuerpo de sierpe hacia el Hudson.\u00bb<\/p>\n\n\n\n


<\/p>\n\n\n\n

Versi\u00f3n en ingl\u00e9s: <\/p>\n\n\n\n

Could you sit down and play the piano<\/p>\n\n\n\n

while\nI watch you and taste a Merlot<\/p>\n\n\n\n

of\n2009?<\/p>\n\n\n\n

Time\ncan drain through the tiny openings<\/p>\n\n\n\n

of\nthis wall, that resembles<\/p>\n\n\n\n

my\nskin and breathes<\/p>\n\n\n\n

the\nchords of a melody<\/p>\n\n\n\n

destroyed\nby the train\u2019s sounds .<\/p>\n\n\n\n

Time\nis unavoidable, it slides by<\/p>\n\n\n\n

those\npetroleum lined ceilings.<\/p>\n\n\n\n

All\nnight is a hidden highway<\/p>\n\n\n\n

a\nwinding tunnel.<\/p>\n\n\n\n

Here\n\n<\/p>\n\n\n\n

the\neyes and the hours drown.<\/p>\n\n\n\n

If\nyou play, I’ll forget the drips on<\/p>\n\n\n\n

the\ncorners.<\/p>\n\n\n\n

Last\nnight a moon burst and its<\/p>\n\n\n\n

bright\npieces filled with sounds<\/p>\n\n\n\n

these\nlost spaces between the carpet and the<\/p>\n\n\n\n

wet\nconcrete.<\/p>\n\n\n\n

Play\nthe piano…<\/p>\n\n\n\n

When\nyou arrived you had a pencil between your fingers<\/p>\n\n\n\n

and\nthe desire to fill pages and pages,<\/p>\n\n\n\n

and\nmany more white, grid pages.<\/p>\n\n\n\n

You\nwanted a book full of metaphors,<\/p>\n\n\n\n

you\ndreamed your head against the Brooklyn Bridge<\/p>\n\n\n\n

and\nyou loved a vision of Crane through the glass.<\/p>\n\n\n\n

A\nheartbeat intoxicating your memory,<\/p>\n\n\n\n

discerning\nthe intimate relationship between your steps<\/p>\n\n\n\n

and\nthe phases of the moon,<\/p>\n\n\n\n

or\nthe faded eyes of some woman<\/p>\n\n\n\n

hidden\nbehind her veil made curtains.<\/p>\n\n\n\n

That\ndesire filled with wild nights<\/p>\n\n\n\n

to\nsilence everything that had lost your<\/p>\n\n\n\n

flavor,<\/p>\n\n\n\n

the\nsmell of your sentences or your verbs…<\/p>\n\n\n\n

But\nlet’s not talk about that anymore,<\/p>\n\n\n\n

just\nplay it,<\/p>\n\n\n\n

play\nthe piano and that its music<\/p>\n\n\n\n

licks\nthe footprints of Lorca in Morningside Heights,<\/p>\n\n\n\n

between\nthe red bricks of his gypsy\u2019s dreams<\/p>\n\n\n\n

and\ntenderly damped by the<\/p>\n\n\n\n

sleepers\ndrool.<\/p>\n\n\n\n

Kiss\nthe finger that feeds on the hybrid<\/p>\n\n\n\n

tulips<\/p>\n\n\n\n

and\nremember me.<\/p>\n\n\n\n

My\nbody also bleeds and suffers,<\/p>\n\n\n\n

but\nmy mouth imitates the whisper<\/p>\n\n\n\n

of\nthe ragged pigeons<\/p>\n\n\n\n

to\nsilence the skin-stained brick<\/p>\n\n\n\n

Play\nit…<\/p>\n\n\n\n

You\nhave to close your eyes,<\/p>\n\n\n\n

you\nhave to close your mouth:<\/p>\n\n\n\n

Close\nthe mouths<\/p>\n\n\n\n

or\nfill them with black snow,<\/p>\n\n\n\n

to\nleave their traces on the<\/p>\n\n\n\n

streets\nor mute<\/p>\n\n\n\n

at\nonce for<\/p>\n\n\n\n

Heaven\nprays a lullaby:<\/p>\n\n\n\n

\u201cSleep\ncity of limpid attics,<\/p>\n\n\n\n

Sleep.<\/p>\n\n\n\n

A\nmonster beats, beats and twists<\/p>\n\n\n\n

its\nserpent body to the Hudson.\u201d<\/p>\n","protected":false},"excerpt":{"rendered":"

Rocio Uchofen Recipiente de una micro-residencia por la New York Poetry Society 2019 Poema 2 (Geometr\u00eda de la Urbe) \u00bfPodr\u00edas sentarte y tocar el piano mientras te observo y saboreo un Merlot del 2009? El tiempo puede escurrirse por los intersticios de esta pared que se asemeja a mi piel y que respira los acordes de una melod\u00eda deshecha bajo…<\/p>\n","protected":false},"author":1,"featured_media":2036,"comment_status":"open","ping_status":"closed","sticky":false,"template":"","format":"standard","meta":{"footnotes":""},"categories":[3],"tags":[48,52,53,39,33],"class_list":{"0":"post-2022","1":"post","2":"type-post","3":"status-publish","4":"format-standard","5":"has-post-thumbnail","7":"category-poesia","8":"tag-literatura","9":"tag-poesia","10":"tag-poetry","11":"tag-staten-island","12":"tag-uchofen"},"_links":{"self":[{"href":"https:\/\/hibridoliterario.com\/sitio\/index.php?rest_route=\/wp\/v2\/posts\/2022","targetHints":{"allow":["GET"]}}],"collection":[{"href":"https:\/\/hibridoliterario.com\/sitio\/index.php?rest_route=\/wp\/v2\/posts"}],"about":[{"href":"https:\/\/hibridoliterario.com\/sitio\/index.php?rest_route=\/wp\/v2\/types\/post"}],"author":[{"embeddable":true,"href":"https:\/\/hibridoliterario.com\/sitio\/index.php?rest_route=\/wp\/v2\/users\/1"}],"replies":[{"embeddable":true,"href":"https:\/\/hibridoliterario.com\/sitio\/index.php?rest_route=%2Fwp%2Fv2%2Fcomments&post=2022"}],"version-history":[{"count":7,"href":"https:\/\/hibridoliterario.com\/sitio\/index.php?rest_route=\/wp\/v2\/posts\/2022\/revisions"}],"predecessor-version":[{"id":2080,"href":"https:\/\/hibridoliterario.com\/sitio\/index.php?rest_route=\/wp\/v2\/posts\/2022\/revisions\/2080"}],"wp:featuredmedia":[{"embeddable":true,"href":"https:\/\/hibridoliterario.com\/sitio\/index.php?rest_route=\/wp\/v2\/media\/2036"}],"wp:attachment":[{"href":"https:\/\/hibridoliterario.com\/sitio\/index.php?rest_route=%2Fwp%2Fv2%2Fmedia&parent=2022"}],"wp:term":[{"taxonomy":"category","embeddable":true,"href":"https:\/\/hibridoliterario.com\/sitio\/index.php?rest_route=%2Fwp%2Fv2%2Fcategories&post=2022"},{"taxonomy":"post_tag","embeddable":true,"href":"https:\/\/hibridoliterario.com\/sitio\/index.php?rest_route=%2Fwp%2Fv2%2Ftags&post=2022"}],"curies":[{"name":"wp","href":"https:\/\/api.w.org\/{rel}","templated":true}]}}