Weekend-Engagement [ 170 ] - Three Buildings

Louis Isadore Kahn, a renowned architect from Philadelphia, United States, said that architecture is the reaching out for the truth.

Well, I spend my life assembling buildings of words and the keys I want are those of those that are still to be built. That's why I would like to have those three keys, of my next three poems.

As this is practically impossible because the act of writing happens almost as if by magic, because here I bring Three Buildings that I could raise today, circling all over the house.

There were times when I lay on the bed and stared at the ceiling. I fell half asleep thinking about that clay I would use to put the words together. My mind also fanned the faces of my inspiration. I must say, sometimes I cry, because in my verses there is a lot of truth. It seems to be seen, which is obvious, but it is not. I'm telling you it's there, but I'm sure you don't see my truth.

This photo that I have used to graph my post is one of my favourite photos of a lifetime. I did it while walking with a group of bartenders from Portugal, who came to Havana, to enjoy a tour package, and I was documenting all their activities.

At that moment, unique, I did not know how I pressed the shutter and took the photo. It was weird because I was focused on them and not on what was happening on the street, outside of that group of drunken bartenders.

I was also somewhat drunk...
Joke.

But this photo, take a good look. Don't you feel that the ball hurts and it hasn't happened yet?

That's how the buildings I build are, they're like a birth with a lot of pain. Without having left my fingers, beating rhythmically on the keyboard, they hurt. But everything passes.

Everything must fall now
the light of sugary bulbs
the Fly Wing
one second, stinging
piercing the transparent wing of the fly
The Fisherman's Magic Rod
{who in his right mind doesn't want a fish for his hunger}
and even less if hunger has lasted for centuries.
Everything must fall now
My devotion to you
My love for you
My madness for you
how words fall in slow motion
inside a sack of coloured crystals.

Don't hurt
to have denied this life
and avoid the icing on the cake in your mouth
when the rain shattered your windows.
You're going to feel it today {this chill}
the knot tightening in your chest
writhing in your navel
emerging from you
as if you were
ivy of sepulchre.
It doesn't matter what's left for me
if pain and pleasure
it's always the same thing.
Don't hurt you
to wait
without ever getting an answer.

No one can put out the flame
what's in you
and took hold of you
at the end of the afternoon
with the last drop of storm.
They drank until they drained the sky
and thy light spread.
They drank all the angels from the same cup
and in your body worked the desire.
Rivers grooving your legs
sinking
topping
sweeping there
in the Eden of your dampness
rocked in the embrace of mine.
Nothing will be the same now
after the agreed cry of pleasure
the sea
and the end.

I worked a bit on this translation, trying to make it as 
close as possible to what I wrote in Spanish, my native language. 

This has been my entry for the following topic, proposed by Galenkp.

Topic 4: If you had a key that could open any door in any building on the planet, which three doors would you open? Explain why.

You still have time to participate. Check this.

Good Luck!