I, ABANDONED--- WAS the first part of my body that went away and left me alone, like Buddha's nails that say they grew like claws, Nobody cut them, He was in ilumination, did not want anything in the world. Orlando Vicente Álvarez
AS A BUDDHA
I, ABANDONED
I have read a lot of poetry about love to divine eyes, long shiny hair, breasts that awaken desire to delicate hands that invite the kiss.
But never a poem dedicated to the toenails , especially of the big toes.
Yesterday the nail of the big toe of my right foot came off completely and without pain.
Dear toenail, you helped me to walk the way, to kick my enemies, you are no longer with me. You said goodbye at night without pain, silent, as you had always lived.
Nail of the soul. God's creation. Why have you left without telling me?
Pablo Neruda wrote a phrase:
"I love your toenails because they walked on the earth and on the wind and on the water, until they found me"
And Gabriela Mistral also wrote:
"Little toenails of child's feet,
Two suffering jewels,
How they pass without seeing the people!
Two poems that mention the helmets that we have on our feet and that we almost always forget to take care of and love them.
Days ago, in the consultation, while I waited my turn, many adults and elderly people held this conversation:
-Well, I have a grade III heart disease and I take such medications ...
And an old man continued:
-Well, I'm worse. I have atrophy of the head of the femur and they prepare me for a prosthesis-
And another woman jumped who did not want to be left behind.
-I have hypothyroidism, edema of the legs and obesity. I do not know what you are going to do with me.
-And you Lord? - this question was addressed to me.
I stand up and say angryly:
-Well, a Cuban jinetera hit me with a gonorrhea of which there is no antibiotic to save me.
And I went to the garden of the hospital. I could not stand those diseases more than people competed which was the most serious they had. They needed to see a coffin to make them see reason.
Already in the portal of the hospital the guard, who already knew me, told me:
_-Mr. The insulin has already been put on.
-YES. And I am very serious. It was put intravenously.
- Ah. Then, You are in good hands.
I went almost crazy from there. I already felt corpse.
_ What you have is Diabetic Neuropathy.- Said the doctor.
That mania of doctors to name diseases everywhere. Strange names that even the simple people already know: Crohn's disease, Posttraumatic Synapses, etc.
That is why patients already master their pathologies even if they do not know exactly what they owe. And the placebo effect is in good hands although doctors do as they know and know very little.
But returning to my nail of the big toe, which unhesitatingly came off on a spring night leaving the raw nail bed. But I'm not complaining. Men do not cry for a lost nail, they make poems.
I picked up the nail. Large and with signs of trophism, I placed it in a glass next to the TV to remember later, which was the first part of my body that went away and left me alone, like Buddha's nails that say they grew like claws, Nobody cut them, He was in ilumination, did not want anything in the world.
Dr Orlando Vicente Álvarez
But never a poem dedicated to the toenails , especially of the big toes.
Yesterday the nail of the big toe of my right foot came off completely and without pain.
Dear toenail, you helped me to walk the way, to kick my enemies, you are no longer with me. You said goodbye at night without pain, silent, as you had always lived.
Nail of the soul. God's creation. Why have you left without telling me?
Pablo Neruda wrote a phrase:
"I love your toenails because they walked on the earth and on the wind and on the water, until they found me"
And Gabriela Mistral also wrote:
"Little toenails of child's feet,
Two suffering jewels,
How they pass without seeing the people!
Two poems that mention the helmets that we have on our feet and that we almost always forget to take care of and love them.
Days ago, in the consultation, while I waited my turn, many adults and elderly people held this conversation:
-Well, I have a grade III heart disease and I take such medications ...
And an old man continued:
-Well, I'm worse. I have atrophy of the head of the femur and they prepare me for a prosthesis-
And another woman jumped who did not want to be left behind.
-I have hypothyroidism, edema of the legs and obesity. I do not know what you are going to do with me.
-And you Lord? - this question was addressed to me.
I stand up and say angryly:
-Well, a Cuban jinetera hit me with a gonorrhea of which there is no antibiotic to save me.
And I went to the garden of the hospital. I could not stand those diseases more than people competed which was the most serious they had. They needed to see a coffin to make them see reason.
Already in the portal of the hospital the guard, who already knew me, told me:
_-Mr. The insulin has already been put on.
-YES. And I am very serious. It was put intravenously.
- Ah. Then, You are in good hands.
I went almost crazy from there. I already felt corpse.
_ What you have is Diabetic Neuropathy.- Said the doctor.
That mania of doctors to name diseases everywhere. Strange names that even the simple people already know: Crohn's disease, Posttraumatic Synapses, etc.
That is why patients already master their pathologies even if they do not know exactly what they owe. And the placebo effect is in good hands although doctors do as they know and know very little.
But returning to my nail of the big toe, which unhesitatingly came off on a spring night leaving the raw nail bed. But I'm not complaining. Men do not cry for a lost nail, they make poems.
I picked up the nail. Large and with signs of trophism, I placed it in a glass next to the TV to remember later, which was the first part of my body that went away and left me alone, like Buddha's nails that say they grew like claws, Nobody cut them, He was in ilumination, did not want anything in the world.
Dr Orlando Vicente Álvarez
cuban uruguayan,genius-----------------------
more,see
more,see
https://www.amazon.es/Libros-Orlando-Alvarez/s?ie=UTF8&page=1&rh=n%3A599364031%2Cp_27%3AOrlando%20Alvarez
YO,EL ABANDONADO...ABANDONANDOME Cuál fue la primera parte de mi cuerpo que se alejó y me dejo solo, como las uñas de Buda que dicen que le crecieron como garras, pues nadie se las cortaba, no deseaba nada del mundo.
COMO BUDA
YO,EL ABANDONADO.
cuál fue la primera parte de mi cuerpo que se alejó y me dejo solo, como las uñas de Buda que dicen que le crecieron como garras, pues nadie se las cortaba, no deseaba nada del mundo.
YO,EL ABANDONADO.
cuál fue la primera parte de mi cuerpo que se alejó y me dejo solo, como las uñas de Buda que dicen que le crecieron como garras, pues nadie se las cortaba, no deseaba nada del mundo.
He leído mucha poesía sobre el amor a unos ojos divinos, a un cabello largo y reluciente, a unos senos que despiertan deseo a unas manos delicadas que invitan al beso.
Pero nunca un poema dedicado a las uñas de los pies, sobre todo de los dedos gordos.
Ayer se me desprendió completamente y sin dolor la uña del dedo gordo del pie derecho.
Uña querida, que me ayudaste a recorrer camino, a dar patadas a mis enemigos, ya no estás conmigo. Se despidió en la noche sin dolor, silenciosa, como siempre había vivido.
Uña del alma. Creación de Dios. ¿Por qué te has ido sin avisarme?
Pablo Neruda escribió una frase:
“Amo tus uñas porque anduvieron sobre la tierra y sobre el viento y sobre el agua, hasta que me encontraron”
Y Gabriela Mistral también escribió:
“Uñitas de los piececitos de niño,
Dos joyitas sufrientes,
¡Cómo pasan sin veros las gentes!
Dos poemas que mencionan los cascos que tenemos en nuestros pies y que casi siempre olvidamos de cuidar y amarlos.
Días atrás, en la consulta, mientras esperaba mi turno, muchas ancianas y ancianos sostenían esta conversación:
-Pues yo tengo una cardiopatía grado III y tomo tales medicamentos….
Y un anciano continúo:
-Pues yo estoy peor. Tengo atrofia de la cabeza del fémur y me preparan para una prótesis-
Y salto otra mujer que no quería quedarse atrás.
-Yo Tengo hipotiroidismo, edemas en las piernas y obesidad. No sé qué van a hacer conmigo.
-¿Y usted Señor?- esta pregunta era dirigida a mí.
-Pues a mí una jinetera cubana me pego una gonorrea de la que no hay antibiótico que me salve.
Y me puse de pie. Y Salí al jardín del nosocomio. No aguantaba más esas enfermedades que la gente competía cual era la más grave que tenían. Necesitaban ver un ataúd para hacerlas entrar en razón.
Ya en el portal del nosocomio el guarda, que ya me conocía, me dijo:
_Señor. Ya se puso la Insulina.
-SI. Y estoy muy grave. Me la pusieron intravenosa.
- Ah. Entonces está en buenas manos.
Me fui casi loco de allí. Me sentía ya cadáver.
_ Eso que tenés es Neuropatía Diabética.- Dijo la doctora.
Esa manía de los médicos de ponerle nombre a enfermedades por doquier. Nombres extraños que hasta el pueblo simple ya conoce: enfermedad de Crohn, Sinapsis Postraumática, etc.
Por eso los pacientes dominan ya sus patologías aunque no sepan bien a qué se deben. Y el efecto placebo está en buenas manos aunque los médicos hacen como que saben y saben muy poco.
Pero volviendo a mi uña del dedo gordo del pie, que sin rechistar se desprendió en una noche de primavera dejando el lecho ungueal en carne viva. Pero no me quejo. Los hombres no lloran por una uña perdida, le hacen poemas.
Yo recogí la uña. Grande y con signos de trofismo, la coloque en una copa al lado de la televisor para acordarme después, cuál fue la primera parte de mi cuerpo que se alejó y me dejo solo, como las uñas de Buda que dicen que le crecieron como garras, pues nadie se las cortaba, no deseaba nada del mundo.
Dr Orlando Vicente Álvarez
cubano uruguay,genio
-----------------------------
mas en
https://www.amazon.es/Libros-Orlando-Alvarez/s?ie=UTF8&page=1&rh=n%3A599364031%2Cp_27%3AOrlando%20Alvarez
cubano uruguay,genio
-----------------------------
mas en
https://www.amazon.es/Libros-Orlando-Alvarez/s?ie=UTF8&page=1&rh=n%3A599364031%2Cp_27%3AOrlando%20Alvarez
THURSDAY, SEPTEMBER 27, 2018
POEM IN PROSA ON THE TOENAIL AS A BUDDHA
POEM IN PROSA ON THE TOENAIL
I have read a lot of poetry about love to divine eyes, long shiny hair, breasts that awaken desire to delicate hands that invite the kiss.
But never a poem dedicated to the toenails , especially of the big toes.
Yesterday the nail of the big toe of my right foot came off completely and without pain.
Dear toenail, you helped me to walk the way, to kick my enemies, you are no longer with me. You said goodbye at night without pain, silent, as you had always lived.
Nail of the soul. God's creation. Why have you left without telling me?
Pablo Neruda wrote a phrase:
"I love your toenails because they walked on the earth and on the wind and on the water, until they found me"
And Gabriela Mistral also wrote:
"Little toenails of child's feet,
Two suffering jewels,
How they pass without seeing the people!
Two poems that mention the helmets that we have on our feet and that we almost always forget to take care of and love them.
Days ago, in the consultation, while I waited my turn, many adults and elderly people held this conversation:
-Well, I have a grade III heart disease and I take such medications ...
And an old man continued:
-Well, I'm worse. I have atrophy of the head of the femur and they prepare me for a prosthesis-
And another woman jumped who did not want to be left behind.
-I have hypothyroidism, edema of the legs and obesity. I do not know what you are going to do with me.
-And you Lord? - this question was addressed to me.
I stand up and say angryly:
-Well, a Cuban jinetera hit me with a gonorrhea of which there is no antibiotic to save me.
And I went to the garden of the hospital. I could not stand those diseases more than people competed which was the most serious they had. They needed to see a coffin to make them see reason.
Already in the portal of the hospital the guard, who already knew me, told me:
_-Mr. The insulin has already been put on.
-YES. And I am very serious. It was put intravenously.
- Ah. Then, You are in good hands.
I went almost crazy from there. I already felt corpse.
_ What you have is Diabetic Neuropathy.- Said the doctor.
That mania of doctors to name diseases everywhere. Strange names that even the simple people already know: Crohn's disease, Posttraumatic Synapses, etc.
That is why patients already master their pathologies even if they do not know exactly what they owe. And the placebo effect is in good hands although doctors do as they know and know very little.
But returning to my nail of the big toe, which unhesitatingly came off on a spring night leaving the raw nail bed. But I'm not complaining. Men do not cry for a lost nail, they make poems.
I picked up the nail. Large and with signs of trophism, I placed it in a glass next to the TV to remember later, which was the first part of my body that went away and left me alone, like Buddha's nails that say they grew like claws, Nobody cut them, He was in ilumination, did not want anything in the world.
Orlando Vicente Álvarez
-----------------------
more,see
I have read a lot of poetry about love to divine eyes, long shiny hair, breasts that awaken desire to delicate hands that invite the kiss.
But never a poem dedicated to the toenails , especially of the big toes.
Yesterday the nail of the big toe of my right foot came off completely and without pain.
Dear toenail, you helped me to walk the way, to kick my enemies, you are no longer with me. You said goodbye at night without pain, silent, as you had always lived.
Nail of the soul. God's creation. Why have you left without telling me?
Pablo Neruda wrote a phrase:
"I love your toenails because they walked on the earth and on the wind and on the water, until they found me"
And Gabriela Mistral also wrote:
"Little toenails of child's feet,
Two suffering jewels,
How they pass without seeing the people!
Two poems that mention the helmets that we have on our feet and that we almost always forget to take care of and love them.
Days ago, in the consultation, while I waited my turn, many adults and elderly people held this conversation:
-Well, I have a grade III heart disease and I take such medications ...
And an old man continued:
-Well, I'm worse. I have atrophy of the head of the femur and they prepare me for a prosthesis-
And another woman jumped who did not want to be left behind.
-I have hypothyroidism, edema of the legs and obesity. I do not know what you are going to do with me.
-And you Lord? - this question was addressed to me.
I stand up and say angryly:
-Well, a Cuban jinetera hit me with a gonorrhea of which there is no antibiotic to save me.
And I went to the garden of the hospital. I could not stand those diseases more than people competed which was the most serious they had. They needed to see a coffin to make them see reason.
Already in the portal of the hospital the guard, who already knew me, told me:
_-Mr. The insulin has already been put on.
-YES. And I am very serious. It was put intravenously.
- Ah. Then, You are in good hands.
I went almost crazy from there. I already felt corpse.
_ What you have is Diabetic Neuropathy.- Said the doctor.
That mania of doctors to name diseases everywhere. Strange names that even the simple people already know: Crohn's disease, Posttraumatic Synapses, etc.
That is why patients already master their pathologies even if they do not know exactly what they owe. And the placebo effect is in good hands although doctors do as they know and know very little.
But returning to my nail of the big toe, which unhesitatingly came off on a spring night leaving the raw nail bed. But I'm not complaining. Men do not cry for a lost nail, they make poems.
I picked up the nail. Large and with signs of trophism, I placed it in a glass next to the TV to remember later, which was the first part of my body that went away and left me alone, like Buddha's nails that say they grew like claws, Nobody cut them, He was in ilumination, did not want anything in the world.
Orlando Vicente Álvarez
-----------------------
more,see
https://www.amazon.es/Libros-Orlando-Alvarez/s?ie=UTF8&page=1&rh=n%3A599364031%2Cp_27%3AOrlando%20Alvarez
No comments:
Post a Comment