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Gods shaken by an inextinguishable laugh

An Homeric laugh as Homer sang

In the song I of his Iliad

Made my frog Hela stop talking

From "Here she is"

That I had left at the waterhole

That there is

At the foot of the Moradillo de Roa’ hermitage

From Burgos

Dedicated to the Virgin of Ejido.

I had brought it, the frog

From the "Puddle of the Frogs"

At the road junction that goes to Fuentenebro

Badly mounted on a winged donkey

Endowed with a golden tail

Thinking that a goddess lived in it

The one I would try to force, later

Although unsuccessful

At the foot of the trough

Experiencing a violent desire

Spiller of my sperm on earth.

From this sperm,

On both sides of the air

Drops fell on Hela's body

That made her hairs born

Without mediating loving union.

One day, furious, I grabbed her leg

Throwing it against the trough stone

Being half dead.

I kissed her later, skinned her

And I put it to fry wrapped in flour

Eating it with real pleasure

Knowing that I was going down

To Olympus from my guts

From where I still hear it croaking

As the young people

Who have come down listen

To feel my sumptuous weapon

Of adulterous loves

My zoology, its object and my parts.




Pic: Isabel G. de Diego



Bunny "Venus" sleeps

Mine’s  daughter Elizabeth

Born of the primordial egg

In her Olympic cage

And we have to be joyful

All the day

Because, when She wakes up

We will take her in our arms

Feeling her in our chest

Lively and throbbing.

Her running around the house

From the dining room to the kitchen

Throws us to life

Turning the stay

In a beautiful garden.

Now we are in The banquet

Like the Platon's

And the six that are here

We are saying:

-What a beautiful bunny

How soft is her white hair!

She has black ears

Like those of Lucas Cranach

That are propellers that blow

To the wind of her passing.

-Of  what color is

Elizabeth’s  white bunny?

It is the most widespread question

What does father and mother

To kid growing up

Between mischieves and games

When he comes to see her.

She combs her hair alone

Her eyes are two half moons

That light the dark night

Of the dreamedrabbit Cupid

Coming, in dreams

With a carnal torch

That inflames the senses

And giving  birth to Love

In hearts

Reciting Petrarca

On his road

Garcilaso de la Vega as well

Galeotto del Carretto

Juan de Mal Lara

Juan de Arguijo

Giambatista Marino

 José de Valdivielso

 Calderón de la Barca

La Fontaine and Marivaux

And Me too.

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Pic: Isabel G. de Diego


© Daniel de Culla



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Daniel de Culla is a writer, poet and photographer. He is a member of the Spanish Writers Association, Earthly Writers International Caucus, Poets of the World, (IA) International Authors, Surrealism Art, and other groups. He is director of the Gallo Tricolor Review and the Robespierre Review. He has participated in many festivals of poetry and of theater in Madrid, Burgos, Berlin, Minden, Hannover and Geneva.  He has exhibited in many galleries including Madrid, Burgos, London and Amsterdam. He moves between North Hollywood, Madrid and Burgos; e-mail: gallotricolor@yahoo.com