LINA HERNÁNDEZ FUENTES VENEZUELA

Poems of some contemporary poets of the world

LINA HERNÁNDEZ FUENTES VENEZUELA

Biography

Born in Santa Lucia, Miranda State, Venezuela, in 1958. 

From 2017_2018 she completed the Diploma of Communal Chronicler. Granted by the National Centre for Historical Studies Foundation and the Network of History and Heritage of the Edo-Aragua - Venezuela. Obtaining training and conservation of the historical memory of the Venezuelan people. He participated in various short story and poetry contests presented on different Instagram platforms, winning some of them. In collaboration with 19 other writers with whom they form an identified group, AEL (Amigos Entre Letras) has successfully completed two anthologies whose titles are: Amor, Humor y otros Crímenes and Relatos en la maleta.

In solitary the poetry book Poe Lindas; for sale on Amazon. Pseudonym: M. Lina Hernández Fuentes. Instagram@linaluna58escritora. YouTube Lina Hernández. X Señoralina.

POETRYS 

BLUE

Blue, like the sky 

where the clouds celebrate 

like inebriated brides 

Laughing at the future happiness.

Blue, like the calm sea, 

deep, mysterious 

whose waters envelop 

and fall in love with the

 swaying of the waves.

Blue, you transmit serenity, 

confidence, reflection, 

your presence alone calms 

and sweetens the soul.

Blue, you are even a source of inspiration; 

you were created with illusion 

to fill with peace 

and joy within us.

Blue, wonderful blue, 

in the midst of infinite colours 

you are the accomplice 

of one and a thousand loves.

M. Lina Hernández Fuentes

VENEZUELA

 

BLOW OF LIFE

The wind approaches like soft music 

sweetening my ears. 

It whispers to me, caresses me, 

kisses my lips, 

embraces my body 

until my skin bristles all over.

 He is the accomplice of my fantasies, 

the protagonist of my dreams. 

The one who tucks me in with tender murmurs 

when the moon goes to sleep. 

He is the one who awakens my inner inspirations with the swaying of his breeze; 

that which bathes my face with the morning dew. 

Wind, come, don't go away, 

blow, blow to me all those memories that only exist in my memory. 

Don't let them fade away 

I'm alone, don't abandon me too.

I want to keep on feeling the fresh breeze escaping from your lips 

and listening to your whisper; for he is the breath of my life.

M. Lina Hernández Fuentes 

VENEZUELA

FRED ELISABETH FRENCH GUIANA 

Biography 

 

FRED ELISABETH 

 He was born in in Pointe-à -Pitre in Guadeloupe, French West Indies and has been living in French Guiana since 1995. 

He got a degree of Applied Modern Languages (French -English) at the University of Caen, Normandy in France. 

Since 1997, he’s been an English teacher in the secondary school in French Guiana. 

He’s a poet and is in charge of international relations for MITARAKA, a plurilingual poetry and arts magazine in French Guiana

 

Her name was Solitude 

 It is said that Mulatto Solitude participated in the fight against the French army.  

 Yes she was in, in Guadeloupe.in 1802. 

 Although she was pregnant, 

 tasting liberty she didn't want to become a slave again. 

 With her came an army led by rebellion Leader Louis Delgrès with men and women. 

 They were outnumbered. They were defeated 

 but their fighting spirit still lives on and we can still  

 hear their last words: «live free or die».

 

GIVE ME YOUR HAND

 

Give me your hand, so I can help you,

as the saying goes, believe me.

One hand washes another,

saying, so shall we help each other,

 today I help you and tomorrow you'll help me.

Life is short, we must move forward,

together in solidarity and peace.

 

THE PAVEMENTS IN MY NEIGHBOURHOOD

The pavements in my neighbourhood are very nice, very beautiful.

It is a real pleasure to walk on them.

They give me the impression that I am someone very important.

 

Surely, there are nicer, more famous pavements,

 but they are my favourites.

I come and go on them,

with different rhythms, walking, running, jumping,

and they make me the happiest person in the world.

 

 We are here because they were there  

 Here I am in a foreign land despised and rejected. 

To people who ask me why am I in their country? 

I only say I am here because they were there. 

How would I know your country if you hadn’t come to take what was not yours? 

FRED ELISABETH

Guyana Francesca 

JOLLA LETRAS ESPAÑA

BIOGRAPHY

 

Jolla Letras, he is a writer and poet of Spanish origin, lover of the protest genre and social reflection, although fond of romantic poetry. He is currently working on his first novel of dramatic and romantic genre. He has participated in several poetry tournaments in Mexico and Italy, his lyrics have been recognised by virtual poetry groups in Spain, Argentina, Colombia, published in the Greek magazine Polis. He has been selected and winner in Ceacorreciones of Spain in short stories. You can find her on Facebook as: JOLLA LETRAS.

 

POETRYS

DREAMS 

Every morning I wake up hating you

for evaporating you from my sweet thoughts.

I see you, but the touch of my fingers

crosses your mental image

to vanish between them,

it's unbearable not to be able to touch you.

My lips try to find out your taste,

but the insipid reality is cruel

to my desire to know you.

I curse the capricious insomnia

that prevents me from reaching your abode

to consummate the dance of life and miracles

because our reality is vetoed,

Morpheus allow me to dream once more,

with the inquisitor of my sighs

to soak me again in her angel's dust

so I can disappear in peace.

Jolla lyrics

Spain

 

LET ME TRY

Give me a minute of your eternity

so that this tireless traveller

can show you a little piece of happiness.

I understand that in you it's alien...

That someone really loves you.

But don't see in me a Pharisee.

But the one who desires you forever.

So far you have tasted only poison

And you distrust the word loyalty,

knowing that in your heart you put the brake,

But I want you to know my reality.

That I'm dying to sleep in your bosom,

And I live by enduring your coldness.

 Because your armour is made of ice.

So I will melt it, guarding your fragility,

And I will overcome all the obstacles of the terrain

To make room, for our chance.

Jolla lyrics

Spain

REFLECTION

Why don't children look at the moon or the stars?

It is because their parents no longer rock them in the cradle.

That's why they haven't learned to appreciate beautiful things.

We give the child a screen, so that he doesn't throw tantrums and doesn't bother,

and then he misses us,

when it treats us like scoundrels,

turning into something unpleasant,

a warrior without a battle.

Let's teach him to enjoy heaven,

the metamorphosis of a cloud caressed by the wind,

To enjoy the song of a bird,

To celebrate the freedom of being perched in a tree.

To avoid the child's anger,

For not having that same freedom and not even a tree to climb.

We inculcate them to be competitive,

and we forget to make it fun.

We force them to memorise,

without teaching them to understand

much less to think.

Jolla lyrics

Spain

ADRIANA RODRIGUEZ MÉXICO

 

Name: JRR, Adriana Rodriguez. H. Matamoros

COUNTRY: Tamaulipas, Mexico

Biography:

 

She has participated in local and virtual poetry events of poetry and in literary programmes of digital magazines. She is a contributor to several anthologies. She has published narrative in different digital magazines. She is a member of the group Hacedores de fuego of the UK poet's house. Author of the books of short stories: ‘Pesadillas, Crónicas de los sueños’ and Poemario ‘Ido’.

POETRYS

Poetry: TEMPEST

 

What is the autumn rain?

It falls in cold and grey tones

Carrying away on the winds

How many thousands of secrets?

That are kept in illusion

They follow your rustic steps

to the beat of the storm

in every somersault a dip

 

and your shoes fill with water

and the umbrella is emptied of the alluvium

There is a muddy path

that washes away in the downpour

that scorns memories

that cleanses itself of insecurities

and follows the walking path.

Between tears and warm smiles

you reach the shore

of a thin wisp that shelters

AJRR Adriana Rodríguez

Copyright reserved

México

Poetry: Letters without an owner

Love is so far away

and not to be loved, so close

that I am nothingness, I become an abyss

I wait for your gaze

What rosary is in my head?

do you turn around?

To find me in absence

Punishing my dwelling place

What has been my sin?

To love him at the wrong time

What will be my condemnation?

To lose myself forever in me

What sanity shall I care for?

Yes, in madness, my mind borders on madness

Which flower shall I pluck?

If there's no maybe, no maybe you love me or you don't love me

If no roses grow in my swamp

yes, in my desert there is only drought

Yes, in my house there are no windows

where I can look at the sky

What fault would life have?

For not seeing you coming through my doorway?

Yes, I threw the key to heaven

Believing that I would reach God

In the midst of prayers,

I pleaded folding my hands together, until...

AJRR Adriana Rodríguez

México

LASKIAF AMORTEGUI COLOMBIA

BIOGRAPHY

Laskiaf Amortegui, born in the eastern plains of Colombia, of gypsy origins, is a poet, speaker, cosmetology manager, self-taught and writer at heart in training. She is a resilient woman, lover of the paranormal and the evolution of being, and works as an independent energetic leveller in the alternative area of emotional and physical health. Letters together with her family are her loves and passions. Author of the novel ‘La Jaula De Las Mariposas’, a dramatic novel that tells the story of five women and their environment, has received excellent reviews and is in the top of Amazon in its genre. Her main goal in writing is to move the reader, and just as she enjoys writing stories, she hopes they will enjoy reading her. She loves all genres, but struggles with horror and comedy. When it comes to writing, she faces her biggest rival: her dyslexia, but in the end, if it weren't for it, she wouldn't be a writer, and her mentor and sponsor who encouraged her to publish her compositions, which have brought her awards, triumphs and prizes in poetry, narrative and voice-over at an international level. Her creations have been translated and published in other languages. The letters together with her family, are the engine to face every existential challenge that arises. You can also read her on her social networks: @laskiaf_escritora on instagram, Laskiaf Amortegui and escritos de Laskiaf on her facebook page.

POETRYS

QUESTION

Will you remember me?

One day you loved me

One day you cried for me

Knots of feelings that choked the soul

Tongues furrowed with loneliness

I think of you...

They cry out to me: Forget!

The rain wets my body

Heart overflowing

My soul is flooded

Armour of icebergs...

I am oblivion

 

OCASO

A nostalgic laughter

I sense my end is near

The window is my friend.

Glances across lost in the autumnal twilight

Legs no longer walk without a cane

Sometimes they don't even get out of the chair

Memories come and go, memories come

There's no more time to dream

Conscience accuses, doubt tortures.

The sigh gives me happiness.

The fogged mirror reflects me.

Again I turn to the horizon, where the sun dies and perhaps my soul will go.

Laskiaf Amortegui

Colombia

 

PRIDE

 My bed misses you.

 And my body not to speak of.

The sheets are no longer wet, 

now only my tears wet them.

My lips, my mouth and my tongue miss you.

That dance of tongues I long for.

My body cries out: come back!

And yours is calling for me... too!

Leave your damned pride and let's wet the bed again.

Laskiaf Amortegui

Colombia