putapiadosa
putapiadosa
Cargo solo lo que habita entre mis dedos
28 posts
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putapiadosa · 2 years ago
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putapiadosa · 2 years ago
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putapiadosa · 2 years ago
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putapiadosa · 2 years ago
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― Andrei Tarkovsky, from Sculpting in Time
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putapiadosa · 2 years ago
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putapiadosa · 2 years ago
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putapiadosa · 2 years ago
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[transcript: 1. "I feel it's my anger that has helped keep me alive,"
2. "I've polished this anger and now its a knife."
3. "If only I could sustain my anger
Feel it grow stronger and stronger
It sharpens to a point and sheds my skin
Shakes off the weight of my sins
And takes me to heaven"
4. "TELL ME WHERE TO PUT MY ANGER
TELL ME WHERE TO PUT MY ANGER
TELL ME WHERE TO PUT MY ANGER"
5. "Rage, maybe rage would lift me up, make me stand, make me walk —"
6. "Isn't all that rage so ugly?
And isn't it mine, still? Good God, isn't it mine?"/end transcript]
Audre Lorde, Sister Love: The Letters of Audre Lorde & Pat Parker // Cathy Linh Che, Go Forget Your Father // The Ballad of the Costa Concordia, Car Seat Headrest // @/rbhvleo (x) // Marlon James, Black Leopard, Red Wolf // Ashe Vernon, "Buried", Not a Girl
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putapiadosa · 2 years ago
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putapiadosa · 2 years ago
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"miles de muertos, alcancé a oír
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pero yo estaba bien viva
muy viva fornicando"
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putapiadosa · 2 years ago
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putapiadosa · 2 years ago
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"Se abre de piernas, recibe, arropa, envuelve, seduce y protege"
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putapiadosa · 2 years ago
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putapiadosa · 2 years ago
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putapiadosa · 2 years ago
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Carol (2015)
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putapiadosa · 2 years ago
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Cristina Peri Rossi, Estado de exilio, ‘Los exiliados’, [XVIII Premio Internacional Unicaja de Poesía Rafael Alberti], «Visor de Poesía», Visor Libros, Madrid, 2003, p. 35
Through the streets, they pursue old shadows photos of the dead stammering voices until someone tells them that the shadows the steps the voices are a trick of the unconscious Then they hesitate look about uncertainly and suddenly they set out running after a face that reminds them of some other old friend. The origin of ghosts is no different. – Cristina Peri Rossi, (2003), State of Exile, Translation by Marilyn Buck, «The Pocket Poets» 58, City Lights Books, San Francisco, CA, 2008
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putapiadosa · 2 years ago
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Edward Hopper - Hotel Room
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putapiadosa · 2 years ago
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La memoria es también un hogar que no permite el adorno, que apenas permite el lecho
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