<?xml version='1.0' encoding='UTF-8'?><?xml-stylesheet href="http://www.blogger.com/styles/atom.css" type="text/css"?><feed xmlns='http://www.w3.org/2005/Atom' xmlns:openSearch='http://a9.com/-/spec/opensearchrss/1.0/' xmlns:georss='http://www.georss.org/georss' xmlns:gd='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005' xmlns:thr='http://purl.org/syndication/thread/1.0'><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-5324958964923049971</id><updated>2011-11-28T01:49:58.672+01:00</updated><title type='text'>TEMBLOR DE VERSOS</title><subtitle type='html'>"Las cosas parpadean y se mueven.Todo aquello que no tiembla, no esta vivo..."



El minuto en que me diagnosticaron cancer, toda mi vida se tambaleo y cambio ferozmente. Aquel minuto y el resto que le siguieron, dieron lugar a la composicion de un poemario "Temblor de versos" publicado por la editorial Poesia eres tu y a la creacion de este blog.
Aunque hoy estoy curada, este pedazo de alma virtual, permanecera para siempre...</subtitle><link rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#feed' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://temblordeversos.blogspot.com/feeds/posts/default'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/5324958964923049971/posts/default?max-results=100'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://temblordeversos.blogspot.com/'/><link rel='hub' href='http://pubsubhubbub.appspot.com/'/><author><name>Merche Monroy</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/01108942848016068604</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='24' height='32' src='http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_uM-1LJDDJzM/Sj2D63aMpsI/AAAAAAAAAXY/QbVns4Y2GpU/S220/Imagen+037.jpg'/></author><generator version='7.00' uri='http://www.blogger.com'>Blogger</generator><openSearch:totalResults>7</openSearch:totalResults><openSearch:startIndex>1</openSearch:startIndex><openSearch:itemsPerPage>100</openSearch:itemsPerPage><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-5324958964923049971.post-962069024032001209</id><published>2009-07-15T18:13:00.007+02:00</published><updated>2009-11-24T00:09:25.625+01:00</updated><title type='text'>El poder de las palabras</title><content type='html'>&lt;a href="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_uM-1LJDDJzM/Sl4AZBfsubI/AAAAAAAAAfk/RIiCOK32E00/s1600-h/el+minuto.jpg"&gt;&lt;img id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5358721036515588530" style="DISPLAY: block; MARGIN: 0px auto 10px; WIDTH: 320px; CURSOR: hand; HEIGHT: 261px; TEXT-ALIGN: center" alt="" src="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_uM-1LJDDJzM/Sl4AZBfsubI/AAAAAAAAAfk/RIiCOK32E00/s400/el+minuto.jpg" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;           &lt;br /&gt;Carbonizaran mis neuronas&lt;br /&gt;Las respuestas, que de vuelta,&lt;br /&gt;Me interrogan como lanzas&lt;br /&gt;Contra mi frente.&lt;br /&gt;Incrustándose en mi cabeza&lt;br /&gt;Como ineludibles e indestructibles&lt;br /&gt;Semillas de humo&lt;br /&gt;Y balas de mimbre.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Encadenare, pues,&lt;br /&gt;Palabras inexistentes con eslabones de fe.&lt;br /&gt;Para crear universos.&lt;br /&gt;Para moldear almas de cartón-piedra&lt;br /&gt;Que en los inviernos de ceniza&lt;br /&gt;Estrechen minutos de albor&lt;br /&gt;Y Biblias de ocaso.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Empuñare afiladas palabras&lt;br /&gt;Para destripar las sombras.&lt;br /&gt;Y se hará la luz.&lt;br /&gt;Volverá la vida.&lt;br /&gt;Bordeara mi cintura como una galaxia&lt;br /&gt;Descubierta, deseada, desbocada…&lt;br /&gt;Y quedare tendida, sonriendo,&lt;br /&gt;Sobre la estela&lt;br /&gt;Que vomito el caos vencido.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;strong&gt;El poder de las palabras II&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Este cerebro trasegando&lt;br /&gt;En garabatos de tinta,&lt;br /&gt;Encontrara mi voz enfundada&lt;br /&gt;En  raídos versos.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Esta poeta mediocre&lt;br /&gt;Remontara a traspiés&lt;br /&gt;Los días de tedio&lt;br /&gt;Encaramados a mi espalda.&lt;br /&gt;Las horas de desesperanza&lt;br /&gt;Y de existencia despoblada.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Desencarrilare mi alma forastera,&lt;br /&gt;En algún vagón en blanco.&lt;br /&gt;Sin propiedad.&lt;br /&gt;Para avanzar como un disparo&lt;br /&gt;Sobre el verbo desgarbado.&lt;br /&gt;Y disiparme en puntos suspensivos…&lt;br /&gt;Borrones del tiempo&lt;br /&gt;Y fugas de luz.&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/5324958964923049971-962069024032001209?l=temblordeversos.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://temblordeversos.blogspot.com/feeds/962069024032001209/comments/default' title='Enviar comentarios'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=5324958964923049971&amp;postID=962069024032001209&amp;isPopup=true' title='12 comentarios'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/5324958964923049971/posts/default/962069024032001209'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/5324958964923049971/posts/default/962069024032001209'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://temblordeversos.blogspot.com/2009/07/para-amarte-para-amarte-tanto-es_15.html' title='El poder de las palabras'/><author><name>Merche Monroy</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/01108942848016068604</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='24' height='32' src='http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_uM-1LJDDJzM/Sj2D63aMpsI/AAAAAAAAAXY/QbVns4Y2GpU/S220/Imagen+037.jpg'/></author><media:thumbnail xmlns:media='http://search.yahoo.com/mrss/' url='http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_uM-1LJDDJzM/Sl4AZBfsubI/AAAAAAAAAfk/RIiCOK32E00/s72-c/el+minuto.jpg' height='72' width='72'/><thr:total>12</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-5324958964923049971.post-3978258573924871058</id><published>2009-07-15T16:33:00.002+02:00</published><updated>2009-11-24T02:16:34.411+01:00</updated><title type='text'>Alma en espera</title><content type='html'>&lt;a href="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_uM-1LJDDJzM/Sl3p9aH7tFI/AAAAAAAAAfE/3RQ2y55Eh9o/s1600-h/705466arte-gotico-1.jpg"&gt;&lt;img id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5358696372834645074" style="DISPLAY: block; MARGIN: 0px auto 10px; WIDTH: 400px; CURSOR: hand; HEIGHT: 345px; TEXT-ALIGN: center" alt="" src="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_uM-1LJDDJzM/Sl3p9aH7tFI/AAAAAAAAAfE/3RQ2y55Eh9o/s400/705466arte-gotico-1.jpg" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Espero el hueco vació&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Donde reinventar mis parpados y cada hueso&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Con preludios continuos&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Que nacen y se extinguen.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Espero el aire colmado de espacios&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Donde recrear cada color oportuno&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Con trazos discontinuos&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;De tinta y despertares.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Espero como cualquier alma ensimismada&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;En las horas que busco y me encuentran.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Espero como el alma que no busca nada&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Y se deja atravesar&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Por la luz que me alumbra,&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Por el calor que me alberga.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Espero como el alma abandonada&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Que encuentra promesas,&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;O el alma interrumpida&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Que pierde respuestas.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Espero como el alma siempre desconocida&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Que se mantiene ajena y quieta.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Espero como el alma que se prolonga&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Para enraizarse en el fondo de ti.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Espero como el alma que se quiebra&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Y aprende, al fin, a vivir.&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/5324958964923049971-3978258573924871058?l=temblordeversos.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://temblordeversos.blogspot.com/feeds/3978258573924871058/comments/default' title='Enviar comentarios'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=5324958964923049971&amp;postID=3978258573924871058&amp;isPopup=true' title='1 comentarios'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/5324958964923049971/posts/default/3978258573924871058'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/5324958964923049971/posts/default/3978258573924871058'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://temblordeversos.blogspot.com/2009/07/yo-misma-aun-me-queda-con-sabor-cielo.html' title='Alma en espera'/><author><name>Merche Monroy</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/01108942848016068604</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='24' height='32' src='http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_uM-1LJDDJzM/Sj2D63aMpsI/AAAAAAAAAXY/QbVns4Y2GpU/S220/Imagen+037.jpg'/></author><media:thumbnail xmlns:media='http://search.yahoo.com/mrss/' url='http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_uM-1LJDDJzM/Sl3p9aH7tFI/AAAAAAAAAfE/3RQ2y55Eh9o/s72-c/705466arte-gotico-1.jpg' height='72' width='72'/><thr:total>1</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-5324958964923049971.post-1129688925385689706</id><published>2009-07-15T16:27:00.002+02:00</published><updated>2009-11-24T02:31:03.386+01:00</updated><title type='text'>Vaiven de elegia</title><content type='html'>&lt;a href="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_uM-1LJDDJzM/Sl3ogBsg9vI/AAAAAAAAAe8/FKNr-S3lXnU/s1600-h/cerezo+y+rio+de+noche.jpg"&gt;&lt;img id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5358694768549361394" style="DISPLAY: block; MARGIN: 0px auto 10px; WIDTH: 400px; CURSOR: hand; HEIGHT: 344px; TEXT-ALIGN: center" alt="" src="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_uM-1LJDDJzM/Sl3ogBsg9vI/AAAAAAAAAe8/FKNr-S3lXnU/s400/cerezo+y+rio+de+noche.jpg" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt; &lt;br /&gt;Llegaste al fin, insomne muerte,&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;En tu sorda zancada perdida.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Aprisa surcaste la azabache estela,&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Cual lúgubre horizontal de clemencias mecida,&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Que se turba y se recuesta&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;En un vaivén de elegía.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Crispante melodía despierta,&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Ante tal llegada imponente.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Que me trenza en yerta espada&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Para clavarme en ti, muerte.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Ansiando anudarme a tus pestañas&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Por mi desorbitada furia, tensadas.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Hasta conseguir dejar sus entrañas&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;En el aire intransitable, ancladas.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Y calmar con gasa de brasas&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Tu desvalida mirada,&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Tus ya, imprecisos ojos.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Dejando tan solo de ellos&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Dos profundos y huecos despojos.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Y alcanzar a lamer, lasciva, tu sangre,&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Mi incontenible lengua de sable.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;(y con tal seductor gesto)&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Sutilmente surcare, profundo tu pecho.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Lograre tornarme caprichosa mina&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Reventándome en tu boca.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Y entre tus cadavéricos cimientos,&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Hambrienta carcoma loca.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Y cuando casi extinguida, pidas clemencia,&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Me descubriré, para ti, de la crueldad,&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Devota presencia&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Escarbando en tus sangrientas heridas.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Donde sembrare colmenas de serpientes homicidas.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Y recostada en tal tormento,&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Allí, vieja amiga, cavare tu lecho.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Tanta ira desgarrando mi consuelo,&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Me levanta en torrentes de viento&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Y huracanes de hielo.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Pues desde esta brutal travesía,&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Solo puedo quedarme donde he llegado&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Deshabitada y perdida.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Y solo me es posible seguir viviendo,&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Ante ti&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Y mis pedazos de odio luchando en su nombre.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Y repito su nombre “ Eduardo”&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Y descubro dentro, destellos de vida.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Rebusco en su memoria&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Y tras ella, aun mas vida.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Jirones de pasión en su recuerdo,&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Claridad inmensa.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Y vida, vida,&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;mucha vida.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Resbalando en mis ojos&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Su lindo horizonte perpetuo&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Y su inextinguible esencia.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Descubro que tan lejos, mi primo …&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;tan lejos no queda tu ausencia.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;br /&gt; &lt;/div&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/5324958964923049971-1129688925385689706?l=temblordeversos.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://temblordeversos.blogspot.com/feeds/1129688925385689706/comments/default' title='Enviar comentarios'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=5324958964923049971&amp;postID=1129688925385689706&amp;isPopup=true' title='1 comentarios'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/5324958964923049971/posts/default/1129688925385689706'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/5324958964923049971/posts/default/1129688925385689706'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://temblordeversos.blogspot.com/2009/07/vaiven-de-elegia-llegaste-al-fin.html' title='Vaiven de elegia'/><author><name>Merche Monroy</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/01108942848016068604</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='24' height='32' src='http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_uM-1LJDDJzM/Sj2D63aMpsI/AAAAAAAAAXY/QbVns4Y2GpU/S220/Imagen+037.jpg'/></author><media:thumbnail xmlns:media='http://search.yahoo.com/mrss/' url='http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_uM-1LJDDJzM/Sl3ogBsg9vI/AAAAAAAAAe8/FKNr-S3lXnU/s72-c/cerezo+y+rio+de+noche.jpg' height='72' width='72'/><thr:total>1</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-5324958964923049971.post-2779179901403952816</id><published>2009-07-15T16:25:00.002+02:00</published><updated>2009-11-24T02:29:23.748+01:00</updated><title type='text'>Temblor de versos</title><content type='html'>&lt;a href="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_uM-1LJDDJzM/Sl3nEYAH2xI/AAAAAAAAAe0/-keJT05ZvIU/s1600-h/51-abismo.jpg"&gt;&lt;img id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5358693193989217042" style="DISPLAY: block; MARGIN: 0px auto 10px; WIDTH: 352px; CURSOR: hand; HEIGHT: 400px; TEXT-ALIGN: center" alt="" src="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_uM-1LJDDJzM/Sl3nEYAH2xI/AAAAAAAAAe0/-keJT05ZvIU/s400/51-abismo.jpg" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt; &lt;br /&gt;Hay momentos en la vida&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Que nos despeñan brutalmente por súbitos precipicios de rocas&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Que nos observan como puñales despiadados.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Nos precipitamos violentamente&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Dando agónicas vueltas de campana,&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Lentas,&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Como hojas rotas que caen.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Y en el transito hacia abajo,&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Toda nuestra vida discurre suavemente&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Como una caricia sangrante en la piel.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Intento amarrarla fuertemente contra mi cuerpo,&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Pero se escurre dulcemente entre mis brazos,&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Rozando mi rostro&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Y secando las lágrimas que resbalan horrorizadas.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Y en mi delirio&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Pretendo no creer que este desfallecimiento sin retorno,&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Es como el vuelo de un sueño, sin soñar.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Y son los golpes contra los vértices heridos de la vida&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Los que me hacen retorcerme de dolor&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Y ser plenamente consciente&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;De que la caída en si,&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Es tan dolorosa como su golpe.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Hoy mis dedos trémulos,&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Rasgan el aire,&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Retorcidos como alambres asesinos.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Buscando otro tiempo donde escapar&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;O algún camino de vuelta&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;O un par de alas perdidas&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;O una isla desierta.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Hoy mi corazón&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Parece agotado de latir tan deprisa&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Y tan ausente.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;E impulsa sangre con cenizas y ecos&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;A cada espacio hueco de mi cuerpo.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Hoy te busco&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;A ti,&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Para encontrarme&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;A mí.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Hallar a aquella mujer infinitamente feliz&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Que asomaba brillando en el fondo de tus ojos.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;…cuando yo era.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Y frente al espejo,&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Intento que sea en mis pupilas&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Áridas y agotadas,&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Donde me descubra.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Y solo encuentro&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;El temblor de lágrimas secas.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Me busco en las palmas de mis manos&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Que yacen dormidas.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Y solo encuentro&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;El temblor de versos,&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Que se emborronan a escondidas.&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/5324958964923049971-2779179901403952816?l=temblordeversos.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://temblordeversos.blogspot.com/feeds/2779179901403952816/comments/default' title='Enviar comentarios'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=5324958964923049971&amp;postID=2779179901403952816&amp;isPopup=true' title='1 comentarios'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/5324958964923049971/posts/default/2779179901403952816'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/5324958964923049971/posts/default/2779179901403952816'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://temblordeversos.blogspot.com/2009/07/temblor-de-versos-hay-momentos-en-la.html' title='Temblor de versos'/><author><name>Merche Monroy</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/01108942848016068604</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='24' height='32' src='http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_uM-1LJDDJzM/Sj2D63aMpsI/AAAAAAAAAXY/QbVns4Y2GpU/S220/Imagen+037.jpg'/></author><media:thumbnail xmlns:media='http://search.yahoo.com/mrss/' url='http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_uM-1LJDDJzM/Sl3nEYAH2xI/AAAAAAAAAe0/-keJT05ZvIU/s72-c/51-abismo.jpg' height='72' width='72'/><thr:total>1</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-5324958964923049971.post-1266340805671217898</id><published>2009-07-15T16:20:00.002+02:00</published><updated>2009-11-24T02:34:59.119+01:00</updated><title type='text'>Surgir</title><content type='html'>&lt;a href="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_uM-1LJDDJzM/Sl3mMgcr64I/AAAAAAAAAes/eWl-m-5oYFk/s1600-h/desierto.jpg"&gt; &lt;img id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5358692234183830402" style="DISPLAY: block; MARGIN: 0px auto 10px; WIDTH: 400px; CURSOR: hand; HEIGHT: 267px; TEXT-ALIGN: center" alt="" src="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_uM-1LJDDJzM/Sl3mMgcr64I/AAAAAAAAAes/eWl-m-5oYFk/s400/desierto.jpg" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;Para ser luz, hacerme candil.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Para ser candil, esperare la noche.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Para ser voz y ser sentido.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Para ser tramo y ser voluntad.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Para despertar…&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Encontrar el vientre del planeta&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;De donde arrancar más vida.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Y compartir las mismas miradas,&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Respirar distintos dialectos,&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Hermanar cada llanto y cada beso.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Ser laúd, darbuka o yembe&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Y deslizarme por el desierto eterno.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Sobrevolar pueblos, aldeas, cabilas,&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Arrullando pieles quemadas por siglos.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Alientos lejanos.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Voces dormidas.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Ser horizonte calido.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Ser fulgor. Ser vida.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Y avanzar…&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Desde dentro,&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;A través de mi alma.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Romper y surgir,&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Valiente y serena.&lt;br /&gt; &lt;/div&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/5324958964923049971-1266340805671217898?l=temblordeversos.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://temblordeversos.blogspot.com/feeds/1266340805671217898/comments/default' title='Enviar comentarios'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=5324958964923049971&amp;postID=1266340805671217898&amp;isPopup=true' title='0 comentarios'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/5324958964923049971/posts/default/1266340805671217898'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/5324958964923049971/posts/default/1266340805671217898'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://temblordeversos.blogspot.com/2009/07/surgir-para-ser-luz-hacerme-candil.html' title='Surgir'/><author><name>Merche Monroy</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/01108942848016068604</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='24' height='32' src='http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_uM-1LJDDJzM/Sj2D63aMpsI/AAAAAAAAAXY/QbVns4Y2GpU/S220/Imagen+037.jpg'/></author><media:thumbnail xmlns:media='http://search.yahoo.com/mrss/' url='http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_uM-1LJDDJzM/Sl3mMgcr64I/AAAAAAAAAes/eWl-m-5oYFk/s72-c/desierto.jpg' height='72' width='72'/><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-5324958964923049971.post-5103996959180334661</id><published>2009-07-15T14:36:00.002+02:00</published><updated>2009-11-24T02:38:29.724+01:00</updated><title type='text'>El minuto en que todo cambio</title><content type='html'>&lt;a href="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_uM-1LJDDJzM/Sl3hT2_V4RI/AAAAAAAAAeM/FuIYfc89YOs/s1600-h/arboles+y+cara.bmp"&gt;&lt;img id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5358686862935712018" style="DISPLAY: block; MARGIN: 0px auto 10px; WIDTH: 400px; CURSOR: hand; HEIGHT: 267px; TEXT-ALIGN: center" alt="" src="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_uM-1LJDDJzM/Sl3hT2_V4RI/AAAAAAAAAeM/FuIYfc89YOs/s400/arboles+y+cara.bmp" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Cuando el miedo embarga&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;La razón adormecida del alma,&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Es hora, mi inseparable compañero de caminos perdidos,&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;De echar a andar.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Sin torpes tambaleos, Sin volver la vista atrás.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Cuando es la muerte&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Quien hoy pretende&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Querer enseñarme a vivir,&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Es el momento de recoger&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Cada latido perdido&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;En las cunetas del pasado.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Hacer acopio de sueños vencidos&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Y tornarme la guerrera heroica&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Que de esta lucha me haga regresar.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Cuando la vida parece tan bella&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Que duele mirarla&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Si no la puedo abrazar,&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Necesito que sean tus brazos&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Quienes me anclen perpetua a este instante&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Donde no corre el tiempo,&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Ni la esperanza se quebranta.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Donde nuestro amor persiste fiero a los zarpazos.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Que sean las risas de mis pequeñas&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Las que me enseñen a amarrarme&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt; a tiempo, al viento …&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Que nunca deja de avanzar.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Con la fuerza y la calma&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Que encuentro en la voz de vuestras miradas&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Que son mi hogar.&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/5324958964923049971-5103996959180334661?l=temblordeversos.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://temblordeversos.blogspot.com/feeds/5103996959180334661/comments/default' title='Enviar comentarios'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=5324958964923049971&amp;postID=5103996959180334661&amp;isPopup=true' title='2 comentarios'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/5324958964923049971/posts/default/5103996959180334661'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/5324958964923049971/posts/default/5103996959180334661'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://temblordeversos.blogspot.com/2009/07/veces-luz-aprovecho-el-luminoso-sendero.html' title='El minuto en que todo cambio'/><author><name>Merche Monroy</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/01108942848016068604</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='24' height='32' src='http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_uM-1LJDDJzM/Sj2D63aMpsI/AAAAAAAAAXY/QbVns4Y2GpU/S220/Imagen+037.jpg'/></author><media:thumbnail xmlns:media='http://search.yahoo.com/mrss/' url='http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_uM-1LJDDJzM/Sl3hT2_V4RI/AAAAAAAAAeM/FuIYfc89YOs/s72-c/arboles+y+cara.bmp' height='72' width='72'/><thr:total>2</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-5324958964923049971.post-568131436425024503</id><published>2009-07-14T18:05:00.003+02:00</published><updated>2009-11-24T02:36:33.097+01:00</updated><title type='text'>Palabras de tiza</title><content type='html'>&lt;a href="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_uM-1LJDDJzM/Sly3VxpKn2I/AAAAAAAAAdk/xYQt-zjAhTk/s1600-h/girando.jpg"&gt;&lt;img id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5358359241395183458" style="DISPLAY: block; MARGIN: 0px auto 10px; WIDTH: 320px; CURSOR: hand; HEIGHT: 300px; TEXT-ALIGN: center" alt="" src="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_uM-1LJDDJzM/Sly3VxpKn2I/AAAAAAAAAdk/xYQt-zjAhTk/s400/girando.jpg" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;p&gt;Te vas,&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Dejando entornada nuestra puerta&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Y tras ella,&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Mi destino congelado,&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Que rompe a hervir,  intermitente,&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;En los largos transcursos&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;De cada latido,&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Que se sienta a esperarte&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Y prende la luz&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;De el “después”&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;De “mas tarde”.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Enmudeciendo el estruendo chirriante&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Que salpica la angustia, en mi cara.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Reposando sobre mis ojos&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Varios soles ardientes, sobrepuestos,&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Que te acercan en rápidos recortes&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;De alcoba desnuda.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Descansando, como entre granos de café,&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;En el aroma de encontrarte.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Expandiéndose, profunda y lentamente,&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;En el deleite&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;De la espera y&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;De el llegar.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Permanezco inmóvil.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Aguardando la caricia de tu voz&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Que siempre acaba por abrazarme.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Esperando, tus dedos de tiza,&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Escribiendo versos sedientos&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Sobre mi piel,&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Que el sudor exaltado&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Se encarga de borrar,&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Para volver a reinventarlos y rescribirlos.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Desde tus dedos&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Hasta mí.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Sin rima, sin métrica.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Solo un profundo agujero&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Escupiendo palabras benditas&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Que se dibujan, impacientes, en mi cuerpo.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt; &lt;/p&gt;&lt;p&gt; &lt;/p&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/5324958964923049971-568131436425024503?l=temblordeversos.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://temblordeversos.blogspot.com/feeds/568131436425024503/comments/default' title='Enviar comentarios'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=5324958964923049971&amp;postID=568131436425024503&amp;isPopup=true' title='1 comentarios'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/5324958964923049971/posts/default/568131436425024503'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/5324958964923049971/posts/default/568131436425024503'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://temblordeversos.blogspot.com/2009/07/girando-escapados-al-loco-destiempo.html' title='Palabras de tiza'/><author><name>Merche Monroy</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/01108942848016068604</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='24' height='32' src='http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_uM-1LJDDJzM/Sj2D63aMpsI/AAAAAAAAAXY/QbVns4Y2GpU/S220/Imagen+037.jpg'/></author><media:thumbnail xmlns:media='http://search.yahoo.com/mrss/' url='http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_uM-1LJDDJzM/Sly3VxpKn2I/AAAAAAAAAdk/xYQt-zjAhTk/s72-c/girando.jpg' height='72' width='72'/><thr:total>1</thr:total></entry></feed>
