At 43 from Ayotzinapa
Those voices, those shadows
they are not dead
they declaim in every vital particle.
I’m tired of screaming thinking about them
to spit barks
to those sulfur parasites.
But I know that in every place, in
each breath in
infinite corners look for them
no horizontal lines.
The cornea of memory
it is not an embodied metaphor.
Hungry Sorrows Banners
Birds of uncertainties to
the vein, lip birds
Bodies that do not cease or
they quench by claiming their inherent freedom.
Since then there is no rest
nor borders that limit the
The trampled dust is not in vain.
The stupor of conscience
nor the d(odor) of agony
and of silence.
There is a kiss on the forehead
and millions of intertwined hands
waiting for our own
skin down to the bone tray
to rescue them from oblivion.
LEGITIMACY OF BEING
To Stella Diaz Varin
death could not with me
nor with the erroneous tissues of my silence.
The attempts to turn off my singing were absurd
maneuvers of negligent glances
scandalized by the decline of my fingertips.
I have tattooed loneliness as a constant verse
a mantra that repeats, anarchic, the marginal hours
of my laughter, of my sex, of the pending hidden word
Fifty stars receive my cry
that chapter that I moaned when I saw my children die
or when the senseless torture was drawn on my body.
death could not with me
nor with the deafening smoke that it gave
color to this voice of steel.
Time, on the other hand, comes slowly
to settle in my name
and wipe away the tarnished indecency in the mirror
that little by little vindicates my sorrows.
I like that you remind others
I like to play to be the others of your memory
and I like to be someone in the memory of my others.
I like to heal you being the other,
the one from before,
that is claimed
that chews the past with erroneous flowers
that are reborn
I like to be nostalgic in my others,
because I got tired of opening
my legs to the swings of oblivion.
If you require it, masturbate your senses
remembering those others
like when I allow others
temporarily invade my dreams
to be the most whore and unfaithful,
If the past comes back
with the stench of laughter
Let’s face it, let’s show the colors
and we remain silent.
Sometimes it is necessary to take steps to the abject
silence the noise of the fruits
Let’s lull the past tense
vomiting it out of the body
and swallowing the tenderness that
yesterday he brought us together.
My feet went so far
in the whole core of
the foreign whispers
that the torrent dried up
of cough with which he fed
the desire, the endurance,
((Sometimes I lose the horizon
and I only wish a magnetic gift))
summon the silence
to silence the ego
the ataraxias of the ego
the chairs of the ego
attempts to give birth to a symmetric writing.
design a wish,
use the language
for something other than
put limits on principles
And breathe the constant ether
of the sun when it dawns.
Do you sleep
and in the fiery subtlety of your hair
the beats of your laugh are drawn
the silent breath
the arpeggios you sang before the sunset.
Your hand looks for me, I contain you
You ask me for a hug, I whisper the river
that feeds the herons.
Because you know that my shadow does not give up
before the burden.
my hand on your back
let you cross the threshold
about which you talk to me so much at dawn.
written by © Daniela Sol
Daniela Sol (Talca, 1983) is a poet, mother and academic. Professor of Philosophy and Bachelor of Education, she completed her Master’s in Latin American Studies at the National Autonomous University of Mexico. She has a PhD in Hispano-American Literature from the University of Alicante, Spain.
She is the author of the collections of poems Wandering Sounds (Xaleshem, 2014), Postcards and Mirages (Helena, 2016), Fracture (Alauda, 2015) and Sabina (Marciano, 2021), and has participated in various poetic activities and meetings in Chile, Mexico, Argentina, Canada and Spain. Her work has been included in national and international anthologies in Latin America, Europe and the Middle East.
She is the compiler of the most recent anthology of Social Poetry in Chile: Verbo Latente (Helena, 2017), and of IXQUIC: International Anthology of Feminist Poetry, published in Madrid under the Verbum publishing label.
Her work has been translated into English, French, Portuguese and Arabic.
As a professor and researcher, she has carried out pedagogical and academic tasks in different institutions in Chile, Mexico and Spain, both at secondary, undergraduate and postgraduate levels. From this sphere she is co-author of at least five books. Since 2017, she is a member of the Chilean Society for Literary Studies.
As of 2019, she is part of the academic group Literature and School.
Daniela lived eight years in Mexico, so a large part of her career was carried out there by the hand of poets connected to the Mexican academy and women’s groups. In that country she held extensive poetry sessions with the Chilean surrealist poet Ludwig Zeller (+), to whom she dedicates her doctoral thesis.
Featured picture Astral Island 9inx12in oil, collage 2022 Mitchell Pluto