MARLENE PASINI
Mount Sion
In the churchyard
shadow
sadness olive
groves of mount sion
everything is
still memory groove crack
where it sprouts
in silence
the sore earth a
path barely reverberates
Among memories
that murmur
his pale tessitura
Towards a city
that slow
Dawn and shelter
under the scent
of olive trees
Away From The
Night
For taby
In memoriam
You go round
invisible roads,
the wind is the
homeland that crushed you with its wings of indulgence,
air reefs for the
sea that crashes its lament
on the night of
your dream.
Gravita fog, its
glow against your face,
the glass where
you glimpse the bottom of yesterday,
the remains of a
time without time in the trembling of your visions.
What walls knock
down your voice in the stealth of the night?
That distance
that falls like a curtain between emptiness and memory
burning of the
days.
What emissary
light would you summon from the insomniac garden, under the stones
that protect the
color of the eneidas?
Like rumor of
fable,
rising flame in
the desert doorway,
you look in a
smoke mirror
and you are the
smoke itself that burns on the other side of the huge tunnel;
vertigo flavored
with pale tide,
silent water
where you anchored the tree of your mysterious shadow.
You ask at dawn
to tear its light
where loneliness
is the customary rite
under the dust of
the centuries,
you drink your
cup of fear under the salt of the omens,
the most hidden
room in the warp that machine destiny.
And you came to
melt in the silence little by little,
to be the blade
that hits indifferently,
a body of mist
submerged in its Orion of dry chill,
with your morning
wrapped in still bubble,
last echo of
passing sand.
The season of
nostalgia weighs on you,
the gray dementia
of the storm rotting in the dark mouth of the earth.
Who do you cry
for this abyss?
Mutilated song of
crows that pierce the deep sky.
Beginning
The dawn extends
its warm and
silky transparency,
the moisture is
filtered
through the pores
of the earth.
Flowers, leaves
and crusts
lacerate the
ethereal
course of the
days,
in the high
breeze dusts fly
compressed
memories and pollen,
mosses and
lichens disrupt
their velvety
silence.
Swarm offish
routines
in an everlasting
void.
From the
weariness of those furry ivies
my eyes are
infinite exiles
and thoughts
burst like mauve.
Beyond the sharp
smell of musk
permeates the air
and melts the
resinous aroma of trees
and orange of the
evening,
where the birds’
songs are scattered
and experiences
diluted,
where ethereal
dreams mature
and the absences
sigh,
there we will
return to the beginning.
In its intense
indigo,
the night covers
desires
of transient
chimeras,
in the slow and
transfigured step
of what’s always
the same
we dissolve into
intangible sequences.
there where
absences gleam
we’ll go back to
the beginning.
Spell
Lost ripple
in the glance,
inscriptions of
the invisible
fall to the
bottom of the dream,
badges from
another time.
Fleeting wings
dance away
among the
branches,
every move
evaporates at the
instant bonfire.
From afar the
rumor of our steps
besieges the pond
and its jade stillness.
Untouched
blackness of shadows.
A last silent
walk burning the darkness
Quartz of light
crossing a
splendor of clouds,
reverberates in
silent waters.
The Deep Sky
it’s an impassive
crow’s song.
To dream
dissolved light:
spell.
Abandonment
The night goes
through us
in the deepest,
avid snake that
penetrates
the cleft of
dreams.
We pretend to
sleep
as impenetrable
crystal spheres
The earth does
not comfort
just throw off
its dark and rough
orphanage.
Above
wind towers
fall
apart
under
vacuum.
Glass Road
Memorable birds
in grottoes of
silences
and paths traced
in time.
Still raining
outside
in the dark soul
of the jungles,
in the forgotten
spirit basin:
island of torn
solitudes
on the bare feet
of the beggar,
in the yards of
that house
packed with
ruined objects.
The fine moisture
dissipates the pores
barely breathable
from things,
of experiences
and words ever drawn
on stones and
silenced logs.
Flood of thoughts
that clutter my mind,
cold shadows
slide in shallow stillness of the dawn.
Stays
Thick lethargy
the afternoon outbreak,
bright opening
consumes
the pulsation of
life itself.
I overflow,
I spill in the
undeniable
breaking of the moment.
Slightness of
time in time.
And your voice
and your presence
is rain.
Endless cliff of
rhythms.
Butterfly wings:
flower over the
waters of the pond,
clouds, leafless
puffs,
birds that
migrate cycles.
And where do I
go? And you?
Since eternity names
flutter
to strips of
oblivion.
And your light
kisses they fork the dawn,
your love in the
crack
deeper of my
thinking
doves in the
dream, inside bell towers,
among the hidden
branches of the gloom.
Mineral tear,
dark memory sore.
MARLENE PASINI
MARLENE PASINI: She
was born in Toluca, Mexico. She is a Communicologist, Writer and editor, Poet,
Transpersonal Psychotherapist, Cultural Ambassador, Life Coach and Coach in
Transpersonal Education, Coach in Mindfulness and Meditation, Master in
Literature, Diploma in History, Diploma in Egyptology and Hieroglyphs.
Alternative Medicine Specialist. Cultural Ambassador of Mexico City by the
Latin American Association of Poets, Writers and Artists. She is Specialist in
Ancestral Wisdom, Comparative Religions and Mysticism. He has published seven
books of poetry, two essays, two novels and two personal development books.
Author Best-sellers. She won two awards for her poems, one in the State of
Mexico and another one in Buenos Aires Argentina. In 2018 she obtained the
Diamond Star distinction for her career in Letters by the International Circle
of Journalists. She won the Ibero-American Prize for Literature by the
Leadership Today Foundation in April 2019. And finally she obtained the
Recognition to Mexican Letters by the Academy of Literature and Poetry, as well
as by Houses of the Poet Association, in July 2019. Recognition in Moroco
and Egypt for his contribution to
culture in the world.
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