tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-36990345659678728532012-02-16T04:42:07.467-08:00LIBESLAY BERMÚDEZPOETAhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/10779401935342704720noreply@blogger.comBlogger111100tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-3699034565967872853.post-20112600340989367442008-06-24T12:05:00.001-07:002008-06-24T15:11:59.320-07:00<a href="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_cXIv5UeYxyg/SGFwF3bozuI/AAAAAAAAAIU/GMAW-EhUTLg/s1600-h/amoeur.jpg"><img id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5215573089553272546" style="CURSOR: hand" alt="" src="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_cXIv5UeYxyg/SGFwF3bozuI/AAAAAAAAAIU/GMAW-EhUTLg/s400/amoeur.jpg" border="0" /></a><br /><div align="center"><a href="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_cXIv5UeYxyg/SGFGXihAUoI/AAAAAAAAAE0/s6bZ3mQC_KQ/s1600-h/amoeur.jpg"></a><br /><br /><div align="center"><strong><span style="font-size:130%;color:#ffffcc;"><em>AMOR </em></span></strong></div><br /><strong><span style="font-size:130%;color:#ffffcc;"><em></em></span></strong><br /><br /><strong><span style="font-size:130%;color:#ffffcc;"><em>LA SOMBRA ARDÍA DE TODOS MODOS COMO UN HECHIZO</em></span></strong><br /><br /><strong><span style="font-size:130%;color:#ffffcc;"><em></em></span></strong><br /><br /><strong><span style="font-size:130%;color:#ffffcc;"><em>Y ERA UNA LARVA COLORADA </em></span></strong><br /><br /><strong><span style="font-size:130%;color:#ffffcc;"><em></em></span></strong><br /><br /><strong><span style="font-size:130%;color:#ffffcc;"><em>QUEMÁNDOME</em></span></strong><br /><br /><strong><span style="font-size:130%;color:#ffffcc;"><em></em></span></strong><br /><br /><strong><span style="font-size:130%;color:#ffffcc;"><em>AL FONDO DEL ESPEJO</em></span></strong><br /><br /><strong><em><span style="font-size:130%;color:#ffffcc;"></span></em></strong><br /><br /><strong><em><span style="color:#ffffcc;">("INSECTOS EN EL PARAÍSO")</span></em></strong> </div><div class="blogger-post-footer"><img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/3699034565967872853-2011260034098936744?l=libeslaybermudez.blogspot.com' alt='' /></div>POETAhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/10779401935342704720noreply@blogger.comtag:blogger.com,1999:blog-3699034565967872853.post-47546218093074341202008-06-23T18:06:00.001-07:002008-06-24T14:39:55.050-07:00<a href="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_cXIv5UeYxyg/SGBNXyAsyhI/AAAAAAAAADk/uMarDCOPNbU/s1600-h/la+frileuse.jpg"><img id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5215253439452072466" style="DISPLAY: block; MARGIN: 0px auto 10px; CURSOR: hand; TEXT-ALIGN: center" alt="" src="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_cXIv5UeYxyg/SGBNXyAsyhI/AAAAAAAAADk/uMarDCOPNbU/s400/la+frileuse.jpg" border="0" /></a><br /><div align="center"><span style="font-family:georgia;font-size:130%;color:#ff6600;"><strong><em>La poesía que está en todo lo que toco, que se confunde con las ramas y verdea, que me vomita, me cruza, me relanza, que me lleva en su barco perpetuo de los ojos, que me alcanza en el disparo o en las aguas, que me camina. La poesía que soy en el recuerdo, la que me sigue diciendo, la que me estalla. Aquella que persiste aún en la noche, y divaga, me despierta, abre ventanas, me escapa, pero hacia adentro…me recuerda y soy su vela, </em></strong></span><span style="font-family:georgia;font-size:130%;color:#ff6600;"><strong><em>que canta, que baila, que persigue.<br />La poesía, </em></strong></span></div><br /><div align="center"><span style="font-family:georgia;font-size:130%;color:#ff6600;"><strong><em>espada y muerte, </em></strong></span></div><br /><div align="center"><span style="font-family:georgia;font-size:130%;color:#ff6600;"><strong><em>delirio en fiesta, </em></strong></span></div><br /><div align="center"><span style="font-family:georgia;font-size:130%;color:#ff6600;"><strong><em>árbol de los afligidos, </em></strong></span></div><br /><div align="center"><span style="font-family:georgia;font-size:130%;color:#ff6600;"><strong><em>ceniza sangrante, </em></strong></span></div><br /><div align="center"><span style="font-family:georgia;font-size:130%;color:#ff6600;"><strong><em>rosa perfecta. </em></strong></span></div><br /><div align="center"><span style="font-family:georgia;font-size:130%;color:#ff6600;"><strong><em></em></strong></span></div><br /><div align="center"><span style="font-family:georgia;font-size:130%;color:#ff6600;"><strong><em>La poesía sin cristo, </em></strong></span></div><br /><div align="center"><span style="font-size:130%;"><strong><em><span style="color:#000099;"><span style="font-family:georgia;"><span style="color:#ff6600;">de los mejores ángeles amados.</span><br /></span><br /><span style="font-family:georgia;"></span></span></em></strong></span></div><br /><div align="center"><span style="font-size:130%;"><strong><em><span style="font-family:georgia;color:#ff0000;">Libeslay<br /></span></em></strong></span><span style="font-family:georgia;"></span></div><div class="blogger-post-footer"><img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/3699034565967872853-4754621809307434120?l=libeslaybermudez.blogspot.com' alt='' /></div>POETAhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/10779401935342704720noreply@blogger.comtag:blogger.com,1999:blog-3699034565967872853.post-80813980947858110972008-06-23T18:06:00.000-07:002008-06-24T15:47:48.612-07:00<div><br /><a href="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_cXIv5UeYxyg/SGF1WtmtYCI/AAAAAAAAAIs/4f2gdNiUmhc/s1600-h/5+Años+de+PoesÃ&shy;a+e+imágenes+I.JPG"><img id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5215578876531269666" style="CURSOR: hand" alt="" src="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_cXIv5UeYxyg/SGF1WtmtYCI/AAAAAAAAAIs/4f2gdNiUmhc/s400/5+A%C3%B1os+de+Poes%C3%ADa+e+im%C3%A1genes+I.JPG" border="0" /></a><br /><br /><div><a href="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_cXIv5UeYxyg/SGFzTo7gUeI/AAAAAAAAAIk/bxapdRZYAQk/s1600-h/5+AÑOS+DE+POESÍA+E+IMÁGENES.JPG"></a></div><div></div><div></div><div></div><div></div><div></div><div></div><div></div><div></div><div></div><div></div><div></div><div></div><div></div><div></div><div></div><div></div><div></div><div></div><div>"Eso </div><br /><div></div><br /><div>como de manzana ácida</div><br /><div></div><br /><div>en lo amarillo del cuerpo"<a href="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_cXIv5UeYxyg/SGF3sSHy6UI/AAAAAAAAAI8/mVOOtrmTv6E/s1600-h/5+AÑOS+DE+POESÍA+E+IMÁGENES.JPG"><img id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5215581446134229314" style="FLOAT: left; MARGIN: 0px 10px 10px 0px; CURSOR: hand" alt="" src="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_cXIv5UeYxyg/SGF3sSHy6UI/AAAAAAAAAI8/mVOOtrmTv6E/s400/5+A%C3%91OS+DE+POES%C3%8DA+E+IM%C3%81GENES.JPG" border="0" /></a></div><br /><br /><br /><div><a href="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_cXIv5UeYxyg/SGF2M08JSiI/AAAAAAAAAI0/PmTIaAFJnSY/s1600-h/5+Años+de+PoesÃ&shy;a+e+imágenes+II.JPG"></a><br /><br /></div><br /><br /><br /><div><a href="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_cXIv5UeYxyg/SGFN5vTiFiI/AAAAAAAAAFs/vkrv8mJmZ_s/s1600-h/TEMAS+SOBRE+PAPEL.JPG"></a><a href="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_cXIv5UeYxyg/SGFyStO3DkI/AAAAAAAAAIc/YORgHyCiFB8/s1600-h/5+Años+de+PoesÃ&shy;a+e+imágenes+I.JPG"></a><span style="color:#000099;"><strong><em><br /></em></strong></span></div></div><div class="blogger-post-footer"><img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/3699034565967872853-8081398094785811097?l=libeslaybermudez.blogspot.com' alt='' /></div>POETAhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/10779401935342704720noreply@blogger.comtag:blogger.com,1999:blog-3699034565967872853.post-55644300472994911422008-03-20T23:41:00.000-07:002008-06-23T18:04:03.509-07:00<a href="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_cXIv5UeYxyg/R-NY6jLSvSI/AAAAAAAAADc/XNa3mLjLLpk/s1600-h/pájaro-pez.JPG"><img id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5180081759304465698" style="FLOAT: left; MARGIN: 0px 10px 10px 0px; CURSOR: hand" alt="" src="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_cXIv5UeYxyg/R-NY6jLSvSI/AAAAAAAAADc/XNa3mLjLLpk/s400/p%C3%A1jaro-pez.JPG" border="0" /></a><br /><br /><br /><br /><br /><br /><br /><br /><br /><br />"Ella es un pez-lobo<br /><p>-me gritaba-</p><p>azariento y temeroso</p><p>saca las cuentas</p><p>y maldice</p><p>se estruja los ojos </p><p>como un pájaro ciego"</p><p><span style="font-size:85%;">(<em>Fábula del pájao oscuro 2004)</em></span></p><div class="blogger-post-footer"><img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/3699034565967872853-5564430047299491142?l=libeslaybermudez.blogspot.com' alt='' /></div>POETAhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/10779401935342704720noreply@blogger.com9tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-3699034565967872853.post-80254967850817018072008-03-20T22:35:00.000-07:002008-03-20T23:00:34.008-07:00<a href="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_cXIv5UeYxyg/R-NKiDLSvNI/AAAAAAAAAC0/DAMvxmAdUPc/s1600-h/Juegos+de+Guerra-+Fondo+Editorial+Ipasme-diciembre+2006.JPG"><span style="font-family:trebuchet ms;font-size:85%;color:#99ffff;"><img id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5180065945234881746" style="FLOAT: left; MARGIN: 0px 10px 10px 0px; CURSOR: hand" alt="" src="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_cXIv5UeYxyg/R-NKiDLSvNI/AAAAAAAAAC0/DAMvxmAdUPc/s320/Juegos+de+Guerra-+Fondo+Editorial+Ipasme-diciembre+2006.JPG" border="0" /></span></a><span style="font-family:trebuchet ms;font-size:85%;color:#99ffff;"> </span><br /><br /><p><span style="font-family:trebuchet ms;font-size:85%;color:#99ffff;"></p><br /><br /></span><br /><span style="font-family:trebuchet ms;font-size:85%;color:#99ffff;"><em>"DEMASIADA SANGRE ROJA</em></span><br /><em><span style="font-family:trebuchet ms;font-size:85%;color:#99ffff;"></span></em><br /><span style="font-family:trebuchet ms;font-size:85%;color:#99ffff;"><em>PARA NO SOÑARLA</em></span><br /><span style="font-family:trebuchet ms;font-size:85%;color:#99ffff;"><em></em></span><br /><span style="font-family:trebuchet ms;font-size:85%;color:#99ffff;"><em></em></span><br /><span style="font-family:trebuchet ms;font-size:85%;color:#99ffff;"><em>ENTRE LOS SURCOS DEL AIRE</em></span><br /><span style="font-family:trebuchet ms;font-size:85%;color:#99ffff;"><em></em></span><br /><span style="font-family:trebuchet ms;font-size:85%;color:#99ffff;"><em></em></span><br /><span style="font-family:trebuchet ms;font-size:85%;color:#99ffff;"><em>LA SANGRE DEL HIJO"</em></span><br /></span><em><span style="font-family:Trebuchet MS;font-size:85%;color:#99ffff;"></span></em><br /><em><span style="font-family:Trebuchet MS;font-size:85%;color:#99ffff;">(Juegos de Guerra 2004)</span></em><div class="blogger-post-footer"><img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/3699034565967872853-8025496785081701807?l=libeslaybermudez.blogspot.com' alt='' /></div>POETAhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/10779401935342704720noreply@blogger.com6tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-3699034565967872853.post-6140245058782184682008-03-20T21:59:00.001-07:002008-06-24T12:20:28.211-07:00<a href="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_cXIv5UeYxyg/R-NQdjLSvOI/AAAAAAAAAC8/RxaAn5yBPnA/s1600-h/Santa+Capilla.JPG"><img id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5180072464995237090" style="FLOAT: right; MARGIN: 0px 0px 10px 10px; CURSOR: hand" alt="" src="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_cXIv5UeYxyg/R-NQdjLSvOI/AAAAAAAAAC8/RxaAn5yBPnA/s320/Santa+Capilla.JPG" border="0" /></a><br /><div><div><span style="font-family:courier new;"><span style="font-size:130%;color:#ffff99;"><strong><em><span style="color:#ffffcc;">¿Habré sido yo<br /><br />Quien entró dormida mirando desde la puerta?<br /><br /><br />¿Convertida la piel en microbios para no oírla<br /><br /><br />¿Para no sentir su llamado de Eros?</span><br /></em></strong></span></span><span style="font-size:180%;color:#99ffff;"></span><br /><span style="color:#ffff00;"><span style="font-size:85%;">(De <em>Insectos en el Paraíso </em>1997</span> )</span><a href="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_cXIv5UeYxyg/R-NGcTLSvMI/AAAAAAAAACs/x5gYp5nmFh4/s1600-h/Santa+Capilla.JPG"></a></div></div><div class="blogger-post-footer"><img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/3699034565967872853-614024505878218468?l=libeslaybermudez.blogspot.com' alt='' /></div>POETAhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/10779401935342704720noreply@blogger.com2tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-3699034565967872853.post-65563008733474762802008-03-20T21:57:00.000-07:002008-06-24T12:28:58.387-07:00<a href="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_cXIv5UeYxyg/SGFKIvzyPXI/AAAAAAAAAFc/Kf1zTYF80q4/s1600-h/02385.jpg"><img id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5215531357604822386" style="CURSOR: hand" alt="" src="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_cXIv5UeYxyg/SGFKIvzyPXI/AAAAAAAAAFc/Kf1zTYF80q4/s400/02385.jpg" border="0" /></a><br /><div><div><div><span style="font-size:180%;"></span></div><br /><div align="left"><span style="font-size:180%;">Cara de pájaro</span><br /><br /><span style="font-size:180%;">me gustas</span><br /><br /><br /><span style="font-size:180%;">te veo entre mis sábanas</span><br /><br /><span style="font-size:180%;">gozoso</span><br /><br /><span style="font-size:180%;">mordisqueando mis pechos</span></div><div></div><div><strong></strong> </div><div><strong>(Insectos en el Paraíso- 1997)</strong></div></div></div><div class="blogger-post-footer"><img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/3699034565967872853-6556300873347476280?l=libeslaybermudez.blogspot.com' alt='' /></div>POETAhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/10779401935342704720noreply@blogger.com3tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-3699034565967872853.post-48302357552220690032008-02-25T07:46:00.000-08:002008-06-24T10:55:59.776-07:00<a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_cXIv5UeYxyg/R8LnTyU6xBI/AAAAAAAAAA0/taz7ybM0nhk/s1600-h/libelula+12.jpg"><img id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5170949649287791634" style="FLOAT: right; MARGIN: 0pt 0pt 10px 10px; CURSOR: pointer" alt="" src="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_cXIv5UeYxyg/R8LnTyU6xBI/AAAAAAAAAA0/taz7ybM0nhk/s320/libelula+12.jpg" border="0" /></a><br />"Si fuera retrocediendo que se alcanza el vuelo perdido<br /><br />desgastado<br /><br />Si bastara la serpiente prohibida<br /><br />cada cabello de ángel<br /><br />de puente a las delicias<br /><br />Cada flor sentaría un precedente en la cueva de los cisnes"<br /><br />(De <em>Insectos en el Paraíso 1997)<br /><br /><br /></em><em></em><div class="blogger-post-footer"><img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/3699034565967872853-4830235755222069003?l=libeslaybermudez.blogspot.com' alt='' /></div>POETAhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/10779401935342704720noreply@blogger.com1tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-3699034565967872853.post-31381908907868144732007-10-21T16:17:00.000-07:002008-06-24T11:25:20.047-07:00<a href="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_cXIv5UeYxyg/SGE68P00GEI/AAAAAAAAAEk/JpdYj8tS8ws/s1600-h/Lo+posible.jpg"><img id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5215514650186356802" style="FLOAT: left; MARGIN: 0px 10px 10px 0px; CURSOR: hand" alt="" src="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_cXIv5UeYxyg/SGE68P00GEI/AAAAAAAAAEk/JpdYj8tS8ws/s200/Lo+posible.jpg" border="0" /></a><br /><br /><strong><span style="font-size:130%;"><span style="font-family:lucida grande;color:#ffcccc;"><em>Cupo el agua pero no la rosa<br /></em></span><br /></span></strong><span style="font-size:130%;"><strong><span style="font-family:lucida grande;color:#ffcccc;"><em>La ceniza es el olio de los condenados<br /></em></span><br /></strong></span><span style="font-size:130%;"><span style="font-family:lucida grande;color:#ffcccc;"><em><strong>y es la única nostalgia lo posible<br /><br /></strong><br /></em></span><span style="font-family:lucida grande;color:#ffcccc;"><em></em></span><span style="font-family:lucida grande;color:#ffcccc;"><em></em></span><span style="font-family:lucida grande;"><em><span style="color:#ffcccc;"></span></em></span></span><div align="center"><span style="font-family:lucida grande;"><em><strong><span style="font-size:130%;color:#ffcccc;">Si se recuerda la hierba<br />Se reconstruye<br /></span><span style="color:#ffffff;">L.B.</span></strong></em></span></div><div class="blogger-post-footer"><img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/3699034565967872853-3138190890786814473?l=libeslaybermudez.blogspot.com' alt='' /></div>POETAhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/10779401935342704720noreply@blogger.com2tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-3699034565967872853.post-22592680924707828192007-09-28T11:30:00.000-07:002008-06-24T12:46:29.798-07:00<a href="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_cXIv5UeYxyg/SGFLc4prq-I/AAAAAAAAAFk/IGHlvZW6xMk/s1600-h/waarrrrr.jpg"><img id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5215532803087379426" style="CURSOR: hand" alt="" src="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_cXIv5UeYxyg/SGFLc4prq-I/AAAAAAAAAFk/IGHlvZW6xMk/s400/waarrrrr.jpg" border="0" /></a><br /><div><span style="color:#ffff33;"><span style="font-family:georgia;"><span style="font-size:130%;"><em>Dos veces más<br /></em></span></span><br /></span><span style="font-family:georgia;"><span style="font-size:130%;color:#ffff33;"><em>y los perros persiguiendo la carne<br /></em></span></span><span style="color:#ffff33;"><span style="font-family:georgia;"><span style="font-size:130%;"><em>sin fronteras<br /></em></span></span><br /></span><span style="color:#ffff33;"><span style="font-family:georgia;"><span style="font-size:130%;"><em>El recuerdo de la sangre obliga<br /></em></span></span><br /><span style="font-family:georgia;"><span style="font-size:130%;"><em>La sombra </em></span></span><br /><span style="font-family:georgia;"><span style="font-size:130%;"><em>permanece sonriente </em></span></span><br /><span style="font-family:georgia;"><span style="font-size:130%;"><em></em></span></span><br /></span><span style="color:#ffff33;"><span style="font-family:georgia;"><span style="font-size:130%;"><em>en los hombros del poeta<br /></em></span></span><br /></span><span style="color:#ffff33;"><span style="font-family:georgia;"><span style="font-size:130%;"><em>que busca la lágrima y espera<br /></em></span></span><br /></span><em><span style="color:#ffff33;"><span style="font-family:georgia;"><span style="font-size:130%;">otra vez</span><br /></span><br /></span></em><a href="mailto:libeslay@hotmail.com"><em><span style="color:#ffff33;">l.b.</span></em></a></div><div class="blogger-post-footer"><img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/3699034565967872853-2259268092470782819?l=libeslaybermudez.blogspot.com' alt='' /></div>POETAhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/10779401935342704720noreply@blogger.com2tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-3699034565967872853.post-87951215011001097872007-09-26T14:33:00.000-07:002008-06-23T19:59:41.377-07:00<span style="font-family:lucida grande;font-size:130%;">“Cómo será </span><br /><span style="font-family:lucida grande;font-size:130%;">vivir colgado para siempre de una casa subterránea<br />¿Perder el hilo de las horas?<br /></span><br /><span style="font-family:lucida grande;font-size:130%;">¿Será<br />que se puede vivir en el agua con los ojos<br />abiertos </span><br /><span style="font-family:lucida grande;font-size:130%;">Y yo,<br />que no me he dado cuenta,<br />me quedé viajando en este barco negro? </span><div class="blogger-post-footer"><img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/3699034565967872853-8795121501100109787?l=libeslaybermudez.blogspot.com' alt='' /></div>POETAhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/10779401935342704720noreply@blogger.com2