martes, 15 de julio de 2014

The Teacher & The Bull





"It is in captivity — ringed, haltered, chained to a drag. The bull is godlike".
William Carlos Williams

Let me tell You, in a very short story, why I write.
I took my four-days-ago-nine-year-old-son
to my Poetry class. Yesterday.

He makes his best to know who the hell “Paquirri” was
among other complicated things about The Bulls.

-The Bulls
you know,
are complicated animals-.

My son made it through the whole class.

At the end of it my teacher asked:
-“Aryam, Could you get the readings?”
I said: -“Yes”. And also thanked him.
-“Is that your son?” and my son gave a nice handshake to him while pronouncing all his heir by the syllables of his three elegant Egyptian names.

-For the sake of the Story
I’m gonna have the rest deleted
for more than three witnesses.-

I just realized two things which
I consider fundamental now:

You never said my name out loud.
(Do you know my last name?)
Never mind.


Anyway, you never did. 

sábado, 29 de marzo de 2014

Symmetry of the Snowflake


The habit of trying to be aware
has been pillar of my natural way of thinking


I just take my time

I tend to be aware too late!

for I never touched such cold hands
(those of the people you like)

I guess you never really were aware of how I accidentally
disguised on your own landmarks

This is a loss-loss situation.

I was pushed into the coldness

Though I tried

You never got to know me.