portal-blog page
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AWARDS
IV POETRY CONTEST
CALI Library Network
JULY 9, 2008. Centennial Library. Cali
EVENT
+ + + SUPPORT AND SPONSORSHIP OF THE FESTIVAL AND THE COMPETITION VIII
+ + + PLACE OF AWARD
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Celebrating 98 years in this July. was founded in 1910. And still breezed ... + + +
EVENT
EVENT
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Initiation. Presenter and main table: Rafael Escobar De Andreis (Jury),
Esperanza Morales (Jury), Luis Alberto Díaz (of Feriva) and Ignacio Cerón, Director of Library Network
the background, the saxophonist ... ...
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the table.
saxophonist begins the event.
poet Rafael Escobar De Andreis read to the jury, as a member him in the company of Esperanza Morales and Gerardo Rivera.
ACTA is forthcoming (text and audio)
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Carlos Alberto Serna Sánchez,
Carlos Alberto Serna Sánchez, First place in the contest read their poems.
soon be posted here some of his poems, and audio
soon be posted here some of his poems, and audio
read.
Receives
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The prize "in cash" (check the Bank of Poetry) . 
The three winners: Serna Carlos Alberto Sánchez (1 °), Javier Zamudio (2 °) and Anwar Bolaños (3 °)
read their poems are forthcoming are some of his poems , and audio
read.
The three winners
three winners. + + +
Cesar Correa , painter and sculptor
His exhibition opened and presented during the event.
Your portal: http://www.cesarcorrea.com/ part of his work there.
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. OTHER ASPECTS OF THE EVENT
AUDITORIUM.
The first prize, his wife and Gabriel Ruiz of NTC ... .
POEMS
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OF: Carlos Alberto Serna Sánchez , First Prize
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... (Coming soon)
1812 OVERTURE TO ME
sounds Bach,
is night,
is a quick melody,
But sad.
is little in what I think is my body
And the dreamer,
That is immersed in the memory
From your lips,
in the shape of your hands,
The two long and thin. Sounds
Brahms,
Faster, pleasant,
Hermoso. I think in a tree
Then in its branches,
lost butterflies in the grass,
Your body like grass
thing that butterflies love ...
Now is the day, feel the air push
leaves,
Land sighs about your hair ... I'm such clouds
view,
watch you too, here with this sun
both want. Sounds
Tchaikovsky's cold, the evening has fallen
on your body,
Your skin is fine sand,
A dune in the middle of the desert
To feed the solitary
smile,
You like to laugh on the decline,
You move your legs and let
Growing grass dance with the first impulses
of the night ... Again Bach
approaches,
Thousands of soldiers are at the flat,
The war is approaching,
love chasing you,
are a You
poem
You
The only reason for the Tsar,
The only valid passion for my body,
The only sun in my night,
The fantasy of my pillow in disarray.
...
IN THE RIVER OF TIME
In the river of time
suddenly discovered naked cadavers
night our bodies.
In the river of time we got lost and sailed
tirelessly
Castaway
aimlessly until death
called us and give to it, our own weapons.
In the river of time I met
oblivion, showering me with
nectar that feeds the heart and miss love.
In the river of time
floated, face the abyss
watching my soul
sank on the threshold of memory.
... SILENT
is night,
is a quick melody,
But sad.
is little in what I think is my body
And the dreamer,
That is immersed in the memory
From your lips,
in the shape of your hands,
The two long and thin. Sounds
Brahms,
Faster, pleasant,
Hermoso. I think in a tree
Then in its branches,
lost butterflies in the grass,
Your body like grass
thing that butterflies love ...
Now is the day, feel the air push
leaves,
Land sighs about your hair ... I'm such clouds
view,
watch you too, here with this sun
both want. Sounds
Tchaikovsky's cold, the evening has fallen
on your body,
Your skin is fine sand,
A dune in the middle of the desert
To feed the solitary
smile,
You like to laugh on the decline,
You move your legs and let
Growing grass dance with the first impulses
of the night ... Again Bach
approaches,
Thousands of soldiers are at the flat,
The war is approaching,
love chasing you,
are a You
poem
You
The only reason for the Tsar,
The only valid passion for my body,
The only sun in my night,
The fantasy of my pillow in disarray.
...
IN THE RIVER OF TIME
In the river of time
suddenly discovered naked cadavers
night our bodies.
In the river of time we got lost and sailed
tirelessly
Castaway
aimlessly until death
called us and give to it, our own weapons.
In the river of time I met
oblivion, showering me with
nectar that feeds the heart and miss love.
In the river of time
floated, face the abyss
watching my soul
sank on the threshold of memory.
... SILENT
A Joseph A. Silva
hope in silence the devil with my hands
Stem
a poem
a long poem for it, the favorite son of God
sleep in silence with her hair
And I imagine a few strands
dark, watery
A mortal and melancholic perfume
Silently I realize arrival
I bow mutely
against his shadow and find the weapon that tempts me
There is no other way of making poetry
- he says - and silently
I answer just pulling the trigger on my chest
.... MEMORIES
Air
only air between us,
and nothing in our words. Only
,
shot down by the surprise on the bench, playing
poetry
fall in love and drinking,
be gods, cockroaches, vampires were only air
And remember
And only we remember everything And
in the heart,
PUM-PUM-PUM
that one music
guitars and trombones and wailing, screaming
,
ringing in our bodies, tender
landfills where the world threw their lies
The best years I remember
The most beautiful:
remember,
The only real:
fist
blood and cement our
street poetry and the heart:
PUM-PUM-PUM ...
(N / N)
My mother is just a murmur in my solitude
your photos as a child only
caused din, his hair slightly wavy
poorly lit her face The silence is in your name as Martha
crime left on your lap
father and mother on the bed
The hardest thing for me have been
the photos are a thousand small deaths
forsaken
thousand anxieties
And now your laughing
your words are fire
for my soul
So in my darkness goes deaf
and seeking the death between these four walls.
... SOLEDAD
I search for the faces of the dead land
between blood and tear
Puddles and pools of poverty
Puddles and pools of death
all sides is the same shit
The essence of the city miserable as
tick-
buildings caught sucking duct
progress and restaurants
shit for gold palate
and shit hotels
the sculpted bodies, and women
shit to the penis-van
The essence of the city: Exile
The Loneliness
indifference Death
The irony of the streets
shit And happiness for those who can afford it.
From: Anuar Bolaños, third prize
...
... (Coming Soon)
* GENERAL CONTENT OF THIS SITE:
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related activities:
VIII Festival Internacional de Poesia de Cali. 2008, Julio 1-11, 2008 International
recital. Table 1
Gloria Maria Medina, Marta Patricia Mesa, John Villafañe (Ecuador / Argentina), Antonio Zibara, Escobar Holguín and Javier Zamudio (winner of the second place it in IV POETRY CONTEST Cali, 2008)
.
Cali, July 10, 2008. 7:00 to 9:30 PM. ProArte House.
...
RECORDS EVENT, SEE:
VIII INTERNATIONAL POETRY FESTIVAL CALI. Table 1
http://ntc-eventos.blogspot.com/2008/07/viii-festival-internacional-poesa-cali.html
recital. Table 1
Gloria Maria Medina, Marta Patricia Mesa, John Villafañe (Ecuador / Argentina), Antonio Zibara, Escobar Holguín and Javier Zamudio (winner of the second place it in IV POETRY CONTEST Cali, 2008)
.
Cali, July 10, 2008. 7:00 to 9:30 PM. ProArte House.
...
RECORDS EVENT, SEE:
VIII INTERNATIONAL POETRY FESTIVAL CALI. Table 1
http://ntc-eventos.blogspot.com/2008/07/viii-festival-internacional-poesa-cali.html
There link to TABLE 2 of June 11, 2008, closing date of the VIII FESTIVAL
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