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Ana Maria Irene Marks

BORN BETWEEN TRASH


born debris from beside the tracks of La Paternal.
Casillas:
grout cardboard, plastic bags
,
odd plates, and old chairs


precariously on the roof so it does not suck milk
fly
sad that she was raped the debris from
Play ,
between
hungry dogs and a horse pulling
rickety carts. Learn from other kids

that the law is strong.
Then comes the paco,

sleep in the station or in the mouth of the subway
when it opens.
After blasting shall be thy name

when right-thinking

register your presence and your early death in their television sets

Your body shakes in the calendar

of despair. Among

garbage beside the tracks of La Paternal.

Irene Marks (1953). Poet and writer born in Buenos Aires, Capital Federal, where he lives. Professor of English, Castilian, and Latin literature, is dedicated to teaching. It belongs to the group with Rusty Canyon Carlos Giovanola, Alejandro Aquino, Horacio and Hugo Laitano Toscadaray. In 1974 he received mention in the competition held by the City of Slaughter for his book "Searching for scream. " collaborated in various newspapers and magazines participated in "Company Poetics and " Rusty Canyon. " platelets also published two editions of Sr.Quq series in 1988 and 2004 and participated in the anthology "social poetry" (2010). Marks builds his word with tight line and an economy of words stripped and accurate. Published books of poetry: "Presences", "The Galactic Brotherhood", "Origin."

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Biancalana

WHERE THE FLOWER?

deathbed bloody river.
white moon on the river tears on your bones.
silt, clay, sand. I look on your face
grope in the dark bent, password
death.
Flying black birds have you thrown into the river-sea broke
where your young dreams.
(Lonely dead testifying against the night)
because they just come in that night,
other birds left in flocks
foreboding into the light of day.
If crossed the water from shore to shore on a cloud of ashes?
I would find, brother, standing on the jetty looking
the bank, peering into the exact place
Your Argentine ore-deposits,
infinite-dimensional forward-
But tell me where the flower?


Anne Biancalana (1951). Poet born in San Carlos de Bariloche, Province (Black River. He lives in Buenos Aires.Cursó degree in Human Resources at UCA, at which time he suffered the dictatorship after the abduction and subsequent disappearance of his brother in 1977. Integra Memory group composed Marianist family and classmates at school where his brother namesake studied which disappeared with him ten other colleagues.'s militant grouping Brothers Missing for Truth and Justice. Record Carlos Penelas about the poet: "Few, very few poems I've read like this. His voice stirs other voices. It is the center of a revelation, a complaint, the pain and complexity of human beings. Came to embody and be myth. An elegy that moves us. From a moral and aesthetically. The full circle around the light and shadow. " You do not have poems published.

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Xenia

Underworld

's face in the city smoke
deorbit
desolation and wearing a rictus of tragedy.

wall of silence deepens cracks
oligarchic each corner for a piece
unpunished. This underworld

survivors
that surround injured
are living dead

decreed by the firing of corrupt.

The workers, teachers, retirees
, the faceless ...

drag chains that cleave their flesh if they try to scream
justice.

Children, who have ties to laugh
flowers in their hands,
today, a sad anemic

load their backpacks with the spine of hunger.


Xenia Mora. poet born in Tacna, Peru, Argentina nationalized. Reside in the province of Mendoza. A founding member of the workshop literary La Colmena. Collaborates in the journal "Transparencies , Almeria, Spain, where he has also composed three anthologies. His poetry can be read on several websites: The voice of the kite, Poetry Short, Navedapalavra, Infomujer and Poetry corporation, among others. The poet constructs his verse concerned about what he has to communicate with emergency-which does-using a simple language accessible to everyone. Although she possessed a large poetic work, to date no published his first book.

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Alberto Mora Laguna

THIS HOME AND NOT FIT THE DEAD
Edna Pozzi

In this house no longer fit the dead.
No candles at midnight between
or fog that confuses the landscape but at noon


full sun on the plains and endless crying. Or the mountains

repeat the cry. Here we sit


and try to understand the passage that connects the past

the traces of this.


No blame lies without fear
avoiding
of wielding the truth. Innocent


beaten like the wolf in the fable. Innocent as the condor

Olegario Victor Andrade.
And I remembered also
said José Hernández. Barbarians

as a young woodmen
naked.

and do not know how to continue.

(many voices in chorus
keep telling us "I was traveling the pain" of mud on roads
no time)

In this house no longer fit the dead. In yuyales

unburied dead are Huaqui Cancharayada
those
those Vilcapugio, those Ayohuma. And

patriotic parades marching ghosts.
The ghosts of warriors
they would win in seven days Asunción
and hiding their bodies are rotting

in tropical swamps.


Where are the dead of September 16, 1955

strafed by planes in Plaza de Mayo. Or those who riddled

fell on the bridge of Arroyo Saladillo. Or beheaded

dying
the refalosa dancing in his blood.

are not rumors.
In this house no longer fit the dead.
The gasps in the concentration camps

barracks,
thousands of voices muted by the earth. And death

water at night screaming sobs
in the South Atlantic coast. Or the tortured martyrs
y muertos
por ser hombres cuyo delito fue
escribir nombre de varón
en el corazón de sus almohadas.

Teas apagadas por el espantoso
susurro: "yo fui viajero del dolor"

qué herencia de la patria dolida
nos queda
si ni siquiera hay fuego para quemar tanta mentira.

Alberto Lagunas (1940). Poeta, narrador y ensayista nacido en San Nicolás de los Arroyos, donde reside. Incluido en varias antologías de su país ("Primera antología de cuentistas nicoleños" (1984), también lo ha sido en otras de América latina. Como narrador, su "Diario de un vidente" won the first international prize competition organized by the Editorial Losada en, 1980. Literary criticism Inés Santa Cruz said: "Gaps built a character named Alberto Lagunas, a sort of cronopio Rosario-nicoleña with mathematical insight, the heart of romantic poet embarked on English baroque mazes connects with the symbolism. A being hypersensitive to live for literature and aspires to a just world. " "Forgotten Songs" and "In this house no longer fit the dead" are listed among his poems.

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Sylvina

LONG WAY

And then I said to the wolf:
"Now
the world has changed and the springs are carried
traces of my footsteps in the forest.
I walk away from the sowers of words in the air.
swim among the sharks and dying fish stocks.
That basket is just the nostalgia of my mother,
a form of clouds in the afternoon. Do not believe
safe from the monsters of the night.
I have the big eyes
to never stop looking. "


Sylvina Bach (1975). Poet and writer born in the province of Tucumán, where he lives. Degree in Psychology studies the doctorate in psychology at the UNT (National University of Tucumán). Assiduous concurrent meetings nacionales de escritores, fue seleccionada por el poeta Santiago Silvester para integrar la antología "Poesía Joven del Noroeste Argentino". También intervino en otras antologías que reúne trabajos en prosa, como "Monoambientes", que compiló Andy Nachon. Su poética se vale del recurso nada fácil de la analogía para transmitir al lector lo que él mismo debe descubrir, para luego asombrarse. Aún no ha editado libro de poesía de su autoría.

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Bach Horacio Guarani

SI SE CALLA EL CANTOR

Si se calla el cantor calla la vida
Porque la vida, la vida misma es todo un canto
Si se calla The singer, dies of fright
The hope, light and joy.

If silences the singer left alone
The humble sparrows newspapers,
Port Workers
Who will cross themselves fighting for their wages.

That has to be in life if he sings
not lift his voice in the stands
For the sufferer, for which there is no reason
condemning him to walk without a blanket.

If silences the singer dies
pink rose That serves no
singing the song should be a light illuminating the fields
always the underdogs.

street Not the singer because silence
Coward manages the evil that oppresses
not know The singers never hold
crouching in front of the crime.

them rise up all the flags
When the singer with his shout plant
A thousand guitars bleed into the night
An immortal song to infinity.

If the singer is silent ... Calla life.


Horacio Guarany [Eraclio Cereijo Catalina Rodriguez] (1925). Poet, songwriter and novelist. Born in the Herons, Santa Fe, lives in Luján, Buenos Aires. He was one of the pioneers who opened the National Folklore Festival Cosquín (Córdoba) in 1961. The rough work of Mount Santa Fe, first, and the various offices that later served to survive-and-only schools were those nutrients for your creativity. At 18 he was Buenos Aires where he tried to live the song, which managed only many years later in 1955 joined the Communist Party of Argentina. In the 70's was forced into exile after suffering a bomb attack and at the continuing threats from the Triple A, finally settling in Mexico and Spain. He returned to his homeland in 1978, during the military dictatorship, which again have a new attack, yet they remained in their country. He paced his song and poetry by all Latin American scenario, the former Soviet Union, not few in Europe. Among his novels are cited "sapucay", "The crazy war" and "growing." unquestionable The lyrics of this popular decidor know your audience move with warmth while force because they are born of the same roots which nourish the people, it is not enough, say it is rather essential. His compositions have been collected into a book.

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Eduardo Gomes Lestani

ODE TO MATE COOKED
Nestoroff
After Mario talked about the mate, the best and was
said.
But he did not speak of boiled
verdecita steaming cup flavored
colimba and poor multitude. Neither the snack
public employees with some biscuits

but exiled to the outside of the offices, beyond
the
carpets and air conditioning. The blends

cooked with just a cookie on top of a scaffold,
and celebration for the magic
of thousands of bricks ordered,
for the office, lime and plumb, there
in the wind.

The cooked pudding is supportive,
breakfast and more, here in the south, Latin American
.
is asking the poor neighborhoods, when politicians pass

geography of voting and the promise.
One cup of cooked with milk and a loaf of bread,
prevent fainting in school,
and shiver
pale little children in front of the same national flag.
In our hearts, we know, too,
to waving that flag, wave,
teachers and revealed his dream.
children eager to learn,
biscuits, love and tender. Those who crave
simply
work of his hands
feed their children.
If ministers, governors, presidents, puppets

amazed at the globalization, they knew,
how a child's heart beats
over a cup of stew.
Or if those children one day know
how to be dignified, free,
Argentines.


Lestani Eduardo Gomez. Poet, writer, essayist and playwright born in Resistencia, Chaco province, where he lives. He studied medicine at the National University of Cordoba, where he graduated as a surgeon, and served from 1982 to 1984 the president of the Medical Union of Resistance. He held several positions in the provincial government: Secretary of Promotion and Community Assistance (1973-1974) and Secretary of Culture (1987-1991). In the period 1974-1984 was president of SADE (Sociedad Argentina de Escritores) of Chaco. As a novelist, is author of "Chronicle of Mount "and " The poisoned and rites ", among others. His poetry, conversational tone, not entangled in elaborate metaphors, by contrast, fixed on the paper with the right words, acquires density due to the strength of meaning. "From one to the crowd" and "Odes popular" are two of his poems.

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Julia Prilutzky Farny



PRAYER Lord: for the girl's scent and dew was
on our side and we have lost;
by the friend of all, the old, children,

Of those who hesitated on the difficult path, the heroic woman
He gave us another destination,
it was our hope, our faith, our shelter.

Mother of the poor and the homeless, who opened his heart
like a great lap
to give its people a more human warmth;
tender mother without a son to open his arms, made a nest
all children
with their bare hands.

protects the Lady of the Descamisados!

Lord, give peace on earth had not, give that calm
deep and keep to your side;
rest at your side, without tears, without penalty, resting
crying, pain, stones
that offended unable to stop its passage.

Protect it in your dream, it is yours and ours.

Sir, this is a day without singing and without a smile.
Her voice was bell and warning or joy, and his accent has
quiet but the people will not forget.

will never be the image of dust or ashes
because always be in love
-reborn reborn in the blood of him who was on earth
inspiration and guide, trembling in every torch,
dying and living. Sir, you name it like a litany:
Eva Peron, eternal as the light and day.


Julia Prilutzky Farny (1912-2002). Poet and journalist born in Kiev, Ukraine and Argentina nationalized. He studied law at the University of Buenos Aires and music at the National Conservatory. Collaborator was newspapers La Nación and " The World" and journals "Home" and " For You." was part of the Generation of 40 and led the cultural magazine "Vortex." Hector Stamponi, Eladia and Chico Novarro, among others, put music poems. In 1941 he was awarded the Municipal Poetry Prize. Juana de Ibarbourou said of this poet: "He beat the soft song, the sigh, the honeydew smile, the romantic, all elements of the game of love and success to establish itself in the extreme south in the Americas and one of those sacred trees of beauty. "Among his many books of verse are cited: " Puppets Imperial "," Anthology of Love, "" Counties "," The Fatherland "and" How to say soon ... "

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Sasturain

Empress FIND THE

In our country, the natural sciences,
especially paleontology,
findings surprise us with every day
the remains of ancient animals.

This large lizard, beast, no rivals,
fierce predator that ate
joint and subsidies
did not meet the laws of God, nor social.

The finding has not been a surprise
in this land prone to folly of
laissez faire and free enterprise.

After homo garcans Ameghino,
will with him this oddity.


Juan Sasturain (1945) . Poet, writer, screenwriter comic, teacher and journalist born in Gonzales Chaves, lives in the Federal Capital. A graduate of the career of Arts, worked in various graphic media ("Clarín", La Opinion and "Page 12" , among others). He was director of the magazine " Fierro" and editor of the magazine " Humor" and . His cartoon "Perramus" created in collaboration with artist Alberto Brescia, was awarded by Amnesty International in 1988. In 1990 he won the International Semana Negra de Gijón for his story "With blood ink." "Manual of losers", "Sand in the shoes" and " Senses water ", are two of his most famous novels, among other works of fiction. Sasturain poetry, which comes after fussing lines of prose in its many variants, known for his caustic humor, deep apprehension of the world that surrounds it and its inevitable social criticism. has not yet published a book of poems.

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Juan Gabriel A. INBO

MARKETS AND TRENDS

assimilate water stop: Coca-
Cola dominate the seas, rain and your shower,
like Santa Claus will be exclusive
of your trademark,
at Christmas and provide for new freeways
Greenpeace and toys for your children.
drill will remain in your environment:
Large factories will
just a bundle of ashes to the winds of Marlboro, vice
halt your progress
obsolete hearts will beat

and carriages on the pavement.
Your veins and your neck are also at risk:
Gillette is supporting the wave of suicides.


Gabriel A. Riobó (1977). Poet born in Puerto Madryn, Chubut province, lives in the province of Cordoba. Cursa Arts at UNC (Universidad Nacional de Córdoba). He was part of the literary groups eating paper and apologize for the delay . He was awarded the prize Glauce Baldovino, in 2003, "The world is my ash" and in 2005 obtained fourth mention in the Young Artists Competition in Córdoba. Gazzera Carlos said: "His poetry, somehow, is the most sophisticated, stylish and lucid stream of young production in Cordoba has attracted the attention of a group of novice poets. Its main feature is a language desacartonado, dynamic, experimental, certainly bittersweet, where the humor tempers the irony and audacity with which they address certain issues. "Another book: " window breaker ".

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Loustau

AMSTERDAM AMSTERDAM-BUENOS AIRES-

Anne Frank, my colleagues there.

in my childhood I found in my own illnesses

and family disasters.
imagined you walking / a Sunday /
in a small boat /
the mists of Amsterdam /
while I drowned in the fog
of the south. I heard your voice
small /
and wrapped in a silk handkerchief.
watched as we grew

skin so smooth / transparent wafer

on a pubis that was dark.
I lost and found you
between
wire radiating light with your heart. I saw

light / like a star in crystals.
accompanied me in my disasters
most incorruptible /
fingers smoke

soul held me in the desolate days of the jackal.
we will someday /
flaunted our appearance distracted /
entering a bar /
in Amsterdam or in Buenos Aires /
and embrace all your friends /
in a final toast.


Silvia Loustau. Poet, writer, essayist and translator born in Mar del Plata, where he lives. He studied at the Universidad Nacional de La Plata. Coordinator of literary workshops. Member of the Union Association of Writers and Poets Hispanic World. Won major awards including First Prize for Fiction National Center for Latin American Editor (1973), Honor Strip unpublished work, SEP, La Plata (1975), First Honorable Mention for "Birds Glass, Secretary of Culture February 3 (2008), among others. His work appears in anthologies in the country and abroad and has been translated into French, Catalan, Bulgarian and Sardinian. About "From sea and mothers "said Osvaldo Picardo:" We heard [...] a voice that is different from other female voices, all too common in our time, who are silent or talked of the sea, its matching rhetoric and misunderstandings that braid pictures from the late modernism Alfonsina Storni and is limited to repeat and multiply the romantic cliches of the 40 Argentine. This book [...] opens itself testimony to prayer, their virtuality resides in being poetry of unanswered questions, continuity of the long prayer of man on earth. "Other poems: " Mandala "," Mirror of days "," The metabolism of tears. "

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John Silvia Alberto Cajal

JOURNEY OF LIGHT AND SHADOWS

The city will grow by stealing pigeons
silence insomnia, starting
violets in your laughter, waving
, tuff sad
all flags in your absence.
A history of broken lights,
of
bloodless wars galaxies will slow late in the memory.
trees Wave memory,
evoking the marshes to sleep naked
your journey without stopping. Creature
unbraided forgotten, desolate Aboriginal

dislocated a remote time, I
fire burns your skin at the dawn
terrible, brown
nostalgia.
I know that quiet and just wove
,
with the wind and clouds,
a magical poem of hope. I know your tears
gagged
ideal of delaying drown you,
the country of your dreams virgin ash
fact destinations.
shadow of thy mutation
attest,
of tigers tearing you
these peoples inhabit gaps in your eyes. Indian
cloudy hardened
be strange architecture,
where they come from your adventures
bird reborn flagellates,
music, dance
, green tentacle

love and this love of climbing
lost the vertices of the stars. Aged

fugitives fish your heart bursts into dawns
fruit and anxious, intoxicated
quasars and distances.
I know it is getting late and it rained
your children
all suns and moons;
languish
the centuries and the daggers of your tears
traveled to the slow time lapachos
of heaven.
And I know my country
Indian
your pain restless
infinite and alone, made love
passion.


Ramón Alberto Cajal (1942-2002). Poet and teacher born in Resistencia, Chaco province. He has won prizes in several poetry competitions: First Prize unpublished (1977), second mention of Aboriginal Contest (1978), 2 nd prize Chaco SADE (1979) and 5 th National Magazine Award "Reply" (1981), among others. "From Juan Gelman Roque Dalton, from Silvio to Zitarrosa from Santoro to Cardinal, history gives us writers who are committed to writing history, that put the body behind every word and every word is lucid and passionate, critical and creative. Cajal opened the way to thought, poetry, the living body and even today, with his dead body, opens up "Mario said of his poetry Caparra. Book of Poems:" One oil calendar.

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Nicolas Guglielmetti

The UNCLE SAM

Old Eno broody breeds the
Because we still do not understand
The machine efficiency
That incubated chicks
For him, the origin of all
is on the ground
and not capital
of the lies
That inevitably
Hide something we
will lead to eternal debt
of sleep standing
With eyes
Without seeing the stars

imposed on us by entering a typewriter
soon will pop
The tribe pampa.


Nicholas Guglielmetti (1981). Poet born in Bahia Blanca, Buenos Aires. residence. He studied Literature at the Universidad Nacional del Sur. Was part of the Route 33 Vox for young writers. He is editor of the supplement cultural "Nexus" newspaper bahiense " Attic." His poetry appears in the anthologies " The faces of a poem," contemporary poets and storytellers, "" Stock southern territory "and" New Literature Argentina. " His poetry, short verse, accurate and powerful, is shown stripped of all ornament. Has not yet published poems.

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Maria Teresa Andruetto

UKRAINE GIRL

How are things in your land, I ask.
always worse, I respond, it's all a mafia.
My cousin beyond raise your hand down. The girl called
Alexandra and will work to Gerona.
Has your father and mother cleaning Valencia
a hostel in Milan.
His brother,
compliant fourteen, has been in Ukraine
keeping house. I speak three languages, he says,
Ukrainian, Moldovan and Romanian, but that does not work
in Spain. The bus will Gypsies, Latvian and Hungarian
and this girl who has her mother in Milan.
is also a woman who has no Trujillo
papers, told me buying passage. There
a better place and far away.

(In the afternoon I called my daughters. They were not)

I wanted to stay
keeping house, tells me the girl from Ukraine, but
it is best to be my brother. Talking
, I forget I'm still
in Torino, the bus did not start,
my cousin down there up
hand.


Maria Teresa Andruetto (1954). Poet and writer born in Arroyo Cabral, Cordoba, lives in the hills of Cordoba. He studied at the National University letters of his native province. He teaches and coordinates writing workshops. He received several awards as a writer: Luis de Tejeda Municipal Prize, a novel, Fiction Award from the National Endowment for the Arts and International Short Story Award for unknown lands, among others. It is also important and creative work in the field of children's literature. Susana Romano Sued said about the poetry book "Kodak" : " ... is offered as a search of time lost and regained making event in the emergence of instant snapshot; some objects rescued from the trunk of his own life, the lyrical is preparing to put in the poem. "Other books of poetry: " Pavese and Other Poems "," Beatriz "," Words to the embers. "

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Eduardo Roman Perrig

SEVACABAR

I

All the news is wrong.
Well ... will be a matter of leaning
the countryside where she was always teasing;
ask the willow to the solitary wasp passenger.
No one has seen lately softened his footsteps
in the mud, pieces of its shadow
float off into the sunset, frayed.
you knew it was his identity through his fingers stirred
emptied his wallet on the grass. Forgot
personal gestures
his scar came from a difficult birth?
Can not remember their cries of innocence
the voice that was slowly making crack
and lined the back wall by his hands? Perhaps it is better
not remember anything, you
service was limited to following orders. Play
just with their children and tell the story of the ill
who wanted to deface the order
with pencil crayons violent strangers.
Tell Dad gave they deserve
electrical bursts, chipped knives, airless dungeons
a large jug of shit. Dad is good Argentine
and good soldier. Thanks to him grow
democratic free
endless chewing gum and chewing Americans.
will grow on land planted in a garden
bodies shielded underground
where lies a flower that sprang from his last eye,
those who pursue him at night, without rest.



II have come in defense of private property. Destroy

kicked the door glass and windows broken
violate all locks drawers cupboards pierce
stabbed the bed walls.
One saves a ashtray another
gently slide a wristwatch in your pocket looking for more hurried
the silver. Someone points out a crucifix

frightened witnessing the scene, it weighed him down
discuss the case of pure bronze
has
over a gold-plated "how is quoted today in place?
have come in defense but attack points
Struck by many shelves
the encrypted message on a white sheet that drawing
child in the fogged glass
them four inches stick out your tongue. These men work destroying

are uniformed
demolition crew instead of talking putean
smiling grunt sniff corners and wet.
have come in defense of peace with clubs
grenade machine guns
trephine
mortar machines dig a tank on every corner.
have come but no one
and have to steal just to steal,
again left for the feast of blood.

III

When he heard the first siren went away a little
sill and closed the blinds.
was a shame to give up that soft and mellifluous
moon naively pale
but clouded
toxic gases such sweetness and apparently burning and
night on all four sides. For the first shots

stepped back and closed the door-almost-
freshly painted inside your room.
In the darkness we could hear the crackle
naked lust for violence unleashed. Now forced an entry
hoarse whistles

obscenities erupted surreptitious orders from who knows where for many.
Pushed by muffled sobs
first got into the bathroom, threw the double key,
a corner curled up in arms over the head
eyes inward.
After a brief pause he believed "the main thing is
faith, God smiles you have felt isolated liquid

dripping thick just above just above
'm just not in a whisper he said, almost stammering.
Then the light came on strong light from the cruelty and soft
paragraph
the good guy to ever get into those things
mother's son to follow and always welcomed
disappeared so brutally.


Eduardo Romano (1938). Poet, writer and journalist born in Avellaneda, Buenos Aires province, lies in the Federal Capital. He holds a Bachelor of Arts and Philosophy, UBA, was professor at the Seminar on Popular Culture and Mass at the Faculty of Social Sciences at the university. As a journalist, collaborated in "La Opinión", "Argentine Time", "Page 12" and magazine Crisis ", among other print media. "In his work live the revaluation of everyday experience, sometimes modeled formal schemes of tango, a theme centered on love, the streets of the city, the characters and myths of Buenos Aires", has scored a literary critic of his poetry But we have this blog who believe that his poetry goes beyond these concepts. Poetry books: "18 Poems", "No entry", "Some lives, some love", "mishiadura", "bending the knee."

Running When Will My Body Change

EVER SINCE


Back from a girl singing in the orange
from hunger holds heavy
Americas Boat
from a cross carved with brown skin from beauty incorruptible


iceberg and marble from the pyramid
empire
tombstone from the prophet
census in the desert sand

howling back in the branches of trees
or paradise lost in a gluttony of apples

back from a night and a dawn scaffold

from cradle feet and fugitives

waiting hands to lift me back
in the middle of the street and scream

that some other


war defame us some other


fools we moisten the lips with words
parimos children
calenders landscapes and pray in the light of broom

some other silly

many prefer


love to slaughter
famines kill us shame.

Alicia Perrig. Poet, writer and storyteller born in the province of Cordoba, where he lives. Professor of English Language and Literature. published in "The Mediterranean corridor, cultural supplement of the daily " Depth " de Villa María (Córdoba), and received major awards: Second International Award Editorial Poetry Contest Zone XII, (2005) and First Prize for Literature Gender National Poetry Theaux Vazquez Rosa Tejeda "in commemoration of International Women's Day (2007), among others. Coordinates Workshop storytellers UNVM older adult (Radio National University of Villa María) and gives workshops to students of primary level teachers and Initial. His poetry, full of humanity, dwells on the everyday life and communion with his people. Poetry books: "Original Sin" and "ex."

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Alice Leonor Mauvecin

impatiens

A Floreal Avellaneda, 15,
kidnapped in April 1976.

coming here for
from the expected.
comes to tell
of His shed blood.
has collected his own shadow
and has left at my door.
The crucified, tortured
the child.
Bring all your tears and I
delivery shrouded in silence
sleep in waking.
To listen to the word of the death
the cry recessed into the well of pain that
has no name
eyes of a child who has
child's mouth
baby face.

Nobody knows the spell of those eyes
and the sweet smile which
hidden /
reborn in the whispering wind
running along the river bank where he was
abandoned.

Bring all your tears and spawn
on the site of the wound
scented the perfume of the time covered
by salt, and garlic
amulet / for impatiens.


Mauvecin Leonor (1950). Poet and writer born in the province of Cordoba, where he lives. Language Arts teacher, is coordinator of literary workshops, and teaches courses in his specialty at UNC. He is a member of the Literary Bajopalabra. Mention earned Foundation Award for Poetry Argentina (Buenos Aires, 2007) and mention Meeting of Poets in the Land of the Clouds (Mexico, 2008), among other distinctions. "Wow this family saga written with clean lines of transparency. Thus was born the poetry: as a reminder. But the hand of something or someone, and you confess it, 'with my ghost write' "he said of his book" The wooden box, Rafael F. Oteriño. Other books of poetry: "The mark of the evening" "The skin of the snake", "House of Love and Death".

Possible Digit Combination Formula

Nolberto Ángel Malacalza

GLOBALEO

flower is beautiful May that nobody looks ...
Juan Gelman


we lay the blame but never stopped at the global cycling

nobody has looked at the flower born
no pair of eyes can
deflowering

the planet is immune to a cow udder
claw that tries to fill the muzzle


men flee down each fugitive


to your pedal to die together, who cry
who
what killed the glory
'll pass a corpse


best ride in cold blood scattered
we spread the sparks of these queues


scorpion save some eyes


who remembers the flower


Nolberto Malacalza Angel (1933). Poet and writer born in Station Acevedo, province of Buenos Aires. He received several awards, including first prize in the contest Junínpais (2006) and Aguiar to Culture Award (2007). His poetry, tight and bright flashes of images with depth reflects the chaos which debate the man, his hope, and cry. Book: "Another blood."

How Many Calories Are In Veggie Stir Fry

Claudia Alejandra Giglio

ABORIGINAL VISION

The other is ...
only a glass eye
looking for other eyes

I have pain or something.
The other does not speak, and comes shortly
goes well.
has saved me without my understanding

but do understand it?
In some
kept me going but I'll

stiff, silent
in my land, my place.

Giglio Claudia Alejandra (1962). Poet and writer born in Villa Elisa, Buenos Aires, lives in La Plata. Simultaneously attends races and Agricultural Engineering, Journalism and Social Communication, both at the UNLP. In 1998 he began participating in competitions of poetry and short stories in which he won several awards: Medal of Honor in the Poetry and Short Story Contest Rio de la Plata (Buenos Aires, 1998), First Prize Short Story Competition Scheder National Arts Centre Arts (BA, 2000) and Medal of Honor Story International Competition Hesperides and Poetry (La Plata, 2004), among others. His poetic concise, tightly-verse emphasizes the surrounding reality without resorting to predictable metaphors, far from everything easily. Has not yet published poems.