Extracts from writer's works
Markuleta Gutierrez, Gerardo
Poetry
Antigualeko Altzaria...
ANTIQUE FURNITURE
Like newly acquired
antique furniture,
we carry the new day
-every morning-
on our backs.
What to do in the flatness of the afternoon:
stare blankly at the shapes
in the old wood;
smooth woodworm scars,
force the play of rickety doors,
knowing that by the evening
antique furniture
hides the secret chest from us;
for we know by midday
that we can't fathom the secret,
without destroying the day.
IN THE HOUSE OF FEAR
There is no warmth
in the house of fear;
all beds are damp,
four scythes in the kitchen.
There are no houses
in the desert of fear;
a fierce, dry wind,
a flock of vultures satisfied.
In the house of fear
-find out, for I know-
there is no home.
THE BLACK BOX OF INFATUATION
The black box of infatuation
is difficult to find: if snow
has not swallowed it, brambles
will have covered it, or the fog
rendered it invisible. Lucky you,
if you are fortunate enough
to find the box in one piece.
What does the black box of infatuation
have hidden inside it?. Rainbows
on fire, recycled storms,
forests turned to ash, mad
lands, eroded clouds,
flashing devices,
a sparkling vault.
What does the black box of infatuation
bring with it?. monologues
which resemble conversations,
perpendicular or parallel
arrows of desire, sections
of paths helping each other,
pleasure yesterday, pain today, what of tomorrow?
CROWDED BREAKFAST
Dicky bought
these two dark blue
"Made in Britain" cups
at the pound shop
when we lived together
a thousand years ago.
Arkaitz once brought me
this clear, golden honey
"made from a thousand flowers"
from my fiancée's town,
when we were lovers from time to time
three or four centuries ago.
I acquired the grapefruit juice habit
while with Mehdi;
he, dark-skinned, gave it to me,
cool and slightly sour,
news of new seas,
long, long ago.
Ana's gift
on my twentieth birthday
was this curious pot
to make Turkish coffee,
when I still had long hair
in a previous life.
Today your new company
sweetens my usual breakfast;
don't let my old companions
spoil your new breakfast.
Don't worry, my dear, eat:
the croissants and kisses
are freshly made.
MEETING AND COMING ACROSS
As meeting and coming across are not the same
and one is unsure whether anyone has broken the void,
to speak is to weave bedcovers
to cover silence with holes, crossing threads of cold.
Who has less confidence than words have
about his own work?
That is why they slip lazily under the door;
and suddenly emerge in the most distant drawer,
or they lie in wait for us in a corner with a red bag
or come out of the funnel which summarises each day.
In each word there is
an echo of the beating of hands on tree trunks,
something like a spirit's fertiliser,
which we give back in the fruit that scratches our throats
-this way screams fertilise the water-;
and threads between furrows and vocal chords,
going as far as the incapacity of fingers.
Who has a lower salary
than words have?
Because a word can be
an armchair or a sling, but always
keeping the appearance of a beach.
For behind all the silence-building sounds
a word threading its needles with ice awaits us,
a word which is seldom joy.
THE SIZE OF LIES
A lie. is it always fraud?
Is it always fraud. a lie?
And even if it's very, very small,
is fraud exactly the same?
Are the changes in the chameleon's skin
the colours of lies?
And the lies someone tells himself,
the lies of our folk. What are they?
Bigger or smaller lies?
Easier to swallow or thornier?
Are the changes inside lovers
the colours of lies?
How many white lies are needed
to make up a standard size lie?
For how long does a white lie
go on being a white lie?
Are the pirouettes and changes behind protocol
the colours of lies?
Is not the fear of one's own guilt
the most harmful of all the lies?
A lie can kill.
Another lie -or that very same lie-
can help one to live.
ONE THING DOES NOT TAKE AWAY ANOTHER
One thing doesn't take away another.
Neither does one nail another, nor
wine sadness, nor words
forgetting, nor time pain.
One thing doesn't take away another.
Neither does achievement dreams, nor
learning failure,
nor success anxiety.
One thing doesn't take away another.
Neither do books hunger, nor
water lack of thirst,
nor my truth yours.
