Sunday, March 11, 2012

Adriana Batista’s COLORS

tatiana de la tierra

Simple, erotic, evocative and quirky, Adriana Batista’s poetry cracks me up and inspires me all at once. Comic book author and poet, Batista is a Mexican butch-boi lesbian whose writings and art performances focus on loving women from a butch-boi identity. Born and raised in Mexico City, Adriana was co-author of Liberación Homosexual (Posada Press, Mexico, 1984), the first book that documented the history of the gay and lesbian movement in Mexico. She published Smile, the World is Shit, a pocket book of humorous and ironic short stories about everyday life in the city. Batista is author of the poetry collections Ensayo de un Sueño, Epidermic Nihilisms/ Nihilismos Epidérmicos, and COLORS. She resides in Southern California and is working on her first novel, Acid Rain.


Adriana Batista was one of poets recently featured at Lingua Form, an exposé of artwork, performances and readings. Curated by Kimberly Zumpfe from the Wont Collective in Long Beach, Lingua Form had a surprising multiplicity of voices, sound effects and body parts. Adriana’s was among them, and I present a sampling of her work here for La Bloga.







I
I open my legs
And there you are
I close my legs
And there you are.


Blonde and Yellow
Under the shadows of the night
Your silhouette appeared
Skinny blonde and yellow
Looking at me with no name
You showed me your thighs and neck
The buildings collapsed in silent
Executing the word choice
The expectations became darker
And I walked the hallway naked
Leaving my faith behind me
I hold your arms and back
The walls disappeared at once
And we became red and orange
Nipples tongues and breasts
Opening the door for the game
We played the moon between legs
Whispering dreams with no days
Promises with no hope
We ride the blue and the purple
Talking with the language of sex
The avenues remain quiet
We exhaled shoulders and fingers
As the need to justify life
Biting the skin on the surface
When the hours stop making sense
And we became just bodies
At the edge of the questions
Where nothing is important
And your silhouette appears
Skinny blonde and yellow
Looking at me with no name
While the buildings collapse in silent
Executing the word choice
Making our expectations darker
When we open the door of the game
We kiss our hope in green
Sharing our souls for a minute
With no commitment and no shame
When the world resume its chaos
We walk away alone
With the sunshine as a threat
With no tomorrows no goodbyes
No answers no questions
The city breaks down in tears
It is time to walk the streets
And we mark our bodies for life
Coming again and again
Under the shadows of the night.

II
…then I talk about it alone
Drunk and without answers
In silence with my questions
Spelling your buttocks.

Our Love Rest in Madness
You disappear in silent
Looking over your body my soul is broken
Memories made by shadows are calling me
The empty walls surround the echoes
Moments of sadness transpire dry bodies
Dark silhouettes play a blue dance naked
From the ceiling fall down arms and legs
Backs necks thighs and shoulders
Throughout the window no light of hope
A lonely feeling of despair calls your name
The anguish slaps the silence with no answers
While you disappear in silent
Looking over your body my soul is broken
Moments of sadness transpire dry bodies
And without a word our love rest in madness.

III
…you make me cum poems.

Dead

The dead is a thought that comes when I’m alone
Paralyze dreams within my mind and I stop
Black shadows of memories come to me
Like questions with no end they repeat themselves
And nothing makes sense when I try to run away
While the dead surround my soul in circles
The spasms of the night wrap my name
Blue stories with no past around my neck
A missing person that does not come back
In the middle of night bodies and desires
Dead phantoms of nostalgic wishes in white
Play orgasmic sentences of forgiven love
Naked bodies dance a waltz with fingers
The dead appears cynic and drastic like one
To take me in the middle of the night while I sleep
And the hours are taking me in their deepest time
While I’m waiting for the final breathe
The dead takes me to the final hour
Paralyzing my dreams in an agony that never ends.

IV
…you lick my ear whispering windows.

V
…trapped by your fingers
Wet of fantasies
You dive inside me.

VI
…I breathe your wetness in colors.

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