Luzbela and the Life

a) "Luzbela and"

While the Life passes, Luzbela walks through the oligophrenic streets
among prelates with satyriasis, sparks of soldering irons and trapezoidal shop windows she walks, illuminated by her personal moonlight, even at 3:00  PM.

Luzbela is a top hat where the raven of Poe has laid her eggs
Luzbela is a strange display of fashionable aristocracy that alienates the neighborhood... an artiste of the contrasts, Luzbela, almost a man

she knows her destiny is the loneliness.



Then, when that box of thunders explode, she'll kick some asses, exactly her most faithful asses: 
they will cry on the corners like Nazarenes in the alluvion.


"And these wishes? Whose are these wishes of mine?
Of today

ay, ay, ay... that tear...





b) "The candles of your town"

"The freedom is fanatic", says one song I once heard... so, using their fanatic liberty, the inhabitants of your town march during these signalled nights of the year -you know which- holding long roman candles, in tall procession through the adjacent streets of your town (which it's all adjacent streets).

They march without a reason, march for Europe, march to make a fuss:

on the fucking corner, boomboxes blast Run DMC, Mano Negra, Slayer & Ice-T cassettes under the orangeade light that's like an avernal tortilla a la española

you see from your window and your heart jumps, happy a bit:
the masses call you to join them without words, then you press play to the digital art, and fix your headphones on your cranium declining the invitation.





c) "Our new Prometheus"

«In the year of the fevers, during an inattention of the God
an audacious man -winged, military or hero-
he stole the conchoid capsule of the perfect happiness
in rampant incursion into Paradise, from the Tree of Life, he stole it

and brought it to the depressed Earth 
to his siblings the mankind
from the Garden of Eden he stole it
and it was the medicine that cured the death

in the months of the hurricane, during the sleep of cherubim
an intrepid man -artiste, king or insane-
he usurped the vagina-shaped pill of the eternal life
in insolent infiltration into transparent Heaven, from the Tree of the Enigma he took it

and the mankind stopped dying that day, in the year of the pest
and cemeteries, funerals and condolences were forgotten on the land
'cause the silvery pilule abolished death, cerement and columbrarium
and the perfumed feet of cherubim above trembled augustly in their awakening

via spiritual e-mail and praise, typing with Caucasian finger of bread
a ceremonious seraphim informed the God, about the deplorable fact
and awaited with nonhuman patience for the desperate message
to reach the light years of the divine response

waking up from the inscrutable meditations about Himself
Jehovah benign reclined his ear without preoccupation, one day of his infinity
and heard the e-mail, unsurprised, and heard the praise, and yet awaited
and the zodiacal trigons shone over his head, behind the cosmic expansion

and man saw the Earth getting overcrowded and replenished
and he saw how the decadent and painful flesh couldn't find the alleviation of the death
because now man lived forever, like the nothing or the thinking
and man considered this fact with preoccupation, one day of his infinity




-the narration relates how man flew to Heaven, and put the pill back in the Tree
the account states that cherubim & seraphim observed man with eyes on fire under the moon & sun
and the story also says that Jehovah Neutral was at moonlight miles from this blue theater
sleeping in mathematical reflections about Himself eternal, like the nothing or the thinking.»





d) "A woman of El Greco"

The Navarrese chronicler, biographer, buccaneer and mercenary D. García (1541-1659) annotated two pages -today incunabulum- about the life of the manierist painter Doménikos Theotokópoulos, El Greco, in which he names a Catalan woman, Glorianna Fabregat, and how she made the artist lose his mind in Monzón.
In his amorous delirium, El Greco identified madam Fabregat with the Virgin Mary, and painted his lugubrious "Dormition of Mary", in which the Virgin is seen in her coffin and in Heaven above at the same time.

According to the biographer, the woman was later arrested by the Inquisition, because of "luciferian blasphemy", since she convinced the artist that she actually was Mary incarnate, and that he should exalt her image in his paintings, otherwise, he would be thrown into Hell.

The chronicler doesn't mention the fate of Glorianna, he just stated (last paragraph), that she was 16, and El Greco disappeared behind the Pyrenees, like a lucifugous monster in the storm.





e) "The day I tried to live"

The day I tried to live I realized I didn't deserve.
I found all the stupidity and hollow pride of myself, and I picked what I sowed: a dirty bottle full of spits for my thirst, and the despise in the others' eyes.

I remember the day I tried to live, during my days on the planet, so long ago
but something went wrong, and the joy turned into echoes of indifference and disgust from the ones I loved.

Then, when the afternoon of winter came, I found myself miserably alone, and cried bitterly on that street.

This street.





f) "Luzbela and the Dreams"

When the night lets its bedsheet fall on the muddy town, Luzbela returns to her parallelepiped house:

the ceiling of her room it's all mystique and astrology, and she strips her glutei, and goes to bed

she laids her breasts and humid vulva on the long pillow, which is settled like a soft platform under her bodily warmth
copulating a bit with the pillow, Luzbela falls asleep without orgasm.


Headfirst and daring she plunges into the watery realms of the sleep of the world
that neverending ocean in which she swims, uncontrolled, euphoric, herself

realms that are like a duplicate deja vu without morals or boundaries, for Luzbela.

Out, at the corner of her street, boomboxes blast Run DMC, Mano Negra, Slayer & Ice-T cassettes under the orangeade light that's like an avernal tortilla a la española.