DIRECTORIO


Director Cosme Álvarez
Secretario de redacción ≈ José Manuel Recillas
Consejo editorial ≈ Ricardo Yáñez ≈ Manuel Andrade Leonel Rodríguez

Asesor editorial en México ≈
Juan Domingo Argüelles
Asesor editorial en España ≈ Antonio Orihuela
Asesor editorial en Sudamérica ≈ Antonio Cienfuegos
Asesor editorial en Chile ≈ Enrique Silva Rodríguez
Asesor editorial en Colombia y Venezuela ≈ Larry Mejía

Tipografía y diseño ≈
Astillero Editores

NUEVO CINE MEXICANO. HAZ TU DONATIVO

NUEVO CINE MEXICANO. HAZ TU DONATIVO
Sólo quedan 22 días
m
Las teorías sobre arte son al arte
lo que un gato disecado al movimiento de un felino

Cosme Álvarez

a
Primera época ≈ 1999 a 2007 ≈ Volumen 1. Números 1 al 5
Segunda época ≈ 2008 a junio de 2016 ≈ Volumen 2. Números 6 al 10
Nueva época ≈ 1 de julio de 2016 ≈ Volumen 3. Números 11 al 17


M

domingo, 9 de diciembre de 2007

Poema de amor


por María Fernanda Álvarez
María Fernanda Álvarez


Quiero explorar cada astro de tu galaxia
Quiero sentir la erupción de tu volcán
Quiero jugar con las olas de tu mar
Quiero oír cada nota de tu instrumento
Pues sé que con mi mundo
Con mi montaña
Con mi río
Y con mi cantar
Podemos crear un nuevo universo.


9 de diciembre de 2007

Dos poemas a la Luna

por María Fernanda Álvarez



I

Mientras duermo ella me ve
Espera inmóvil
Y con su luz me arropa.



II

Después de ver al cielo por un rato
Explorando en mi interior
Observando mi fulgor
De repente me percato

Algo extraño está ocurriendo
El día se va oscureciendo
Y por sorpresa me toma
La sonrisa que se asoma.

Me hace sentir,
Me hace soñar
Me hace volar
Me hace reír

Esta luna hermosa
Que me hace vivir soñando
Quiero guardarla en un frasco
Y esparcirla a cada paso.


9 de diciembre de 2007

jueves, 6 de diciembre de 2007

Cosme Álvarez

Cosme Alvarez (Ahome, 1964). Poet, storyteller and essayist. He founded and managed the magazine Revolver (1991-1992) and Shipyard (2000). It is also a musician. Led the magazine Musical Cafe Carnival, where, as in 1987, he shared the stage with Jaime Lopez. He has published books Dream Alive (unnamed Editions, 2006); Chance of facts (Fondo de Cultura Economica, 1998); The cántaro fire, (private edition, 1994) and Shadow underground (Fondo Editorial Tierra Adentro, 1992) signed with the pseudonym Cosme Almada. Some of her poems appear in Eco voices. Generation poetics of the sixties (Editions arlequín-Fondo Nacional para la Cultura y las Artes-Sigma editorial services, 2004), also on the Anthology of poets sinaloenses edited by Eduardo Mendoza (Consejo Nacional para la Cultura y las Artes, CONACULTA, 1996) . In volume Workshop and Tierra Nueva, collective work edited by the National Autonomous University of Mexico (UNAM, 1988), published an interview endorse the writer Rafael Solana. One of his stories, Is the ghost appears in The bamba cultural yearbook of the Mexican Institute of Culture in Chicago, 1999. In 1997 won the National Poetry Prize "Gilberto Owen" with book Chance of facts.

cosmealvarez@yahoo.com

POETIC

The poems do not give answers, ask questions. There are signs that the man is questioning himself and asked for the world. The questions are, poems are written. Only if they are real write. And they say.

The poems are not emotional responses, are questions of experience. They succession of moments, the word from the experience and expertise of the word. These are dialogues of belonging. The words of the poem make visible what the eyes have seen. The question poetry with words so innombrable.

The poem says a me many faces and one side: said the man said, said the plural form of the human experience. The poem said me and interpreted my crowd.

The poet did not suggest directions: footprints still in the river experience. The poem is the swimming in the water of life.

Poetry brings reality to men; brings truth to reality. The world is no less real question of the poet, without dialogue belonging to provide poems.

PRESENCIAS

Each afternoon
Born and die
Under the old mask of fatigue,
Under the grin of the moon
The geography of their faces
Palo.
Its language grows silt
Tree Land
In the forest of silence.
Full of themselves are a vacuum
In the landscape
Cavities
More wind presence
Tolvanera
Most voice dust sounds
Dizziness
Their eyes do not look: murmur
Say
Black syllables with the name of the night
Dizziness
Are cries of oblivion
Rumors on the forehead
They are a forest
Their foliage bleed light
Rhizomes
Dust old trees
on Florida Earth
There the world with vertigo
The days without fruit
Blooms of chance
Their silence speaks to us
Since the tree:
Black birds in the eye.

INSOMNE

Sitting at the table in front sailing
Perceive the world and there is no division.
My eyes are closed but watch
The flame of the candle lights me.

The eyes are closed, but look
Look hard
His view extends beyond my eyes.
This fatigue not burn me.

The senses, opening up without me
-Beyond me- are endless doors
Or boats sailing in the water of this nothing
We call reality.

Things no longer exist, are not things:
Are silence
Circle opens
Dilates goes without banks.

Sitting before the sailing, më are not me anymore
There is no center and no distances.
My body is diluted in the senses
And it's tremendidad.

My body
It is a pure silence without corners,
Water immaterial
Where the eye looks at the world.

My eyes are still closed
Open to silence.
It is always now, the same time always
And all places are the world.

There are no people and no streets,
No things but world.
The forms are barely visible world of a ridge,
Rain parda that ensordece sense.

Everything that I am just flowing,
Water adrift of my body:
Lucid tip of an iceberg without measure
In water immaterial what already exists.

I hear the rumor of my water
Sprout from the flame of the candle,
A mast of light illuminates
The bow of things to be playing things.

At the top of the tower of silence
I note with the touch and hearing the figures,
Oceans are barely visible bays
Or the other side of the river.

With eyes closed watch islands,
Archipelagos in the midst of a shipwreck,
Continents that are not what the eye
As the world makes: sleepless magic.

There is no people or things,
Nor substantive;
Only the basis of things:
Lightning exploded.

Lightning base appointed watching
And it is pointless -the name of silence is not silent,
There is no compass cardinals pointt-:
Only water that never ceases.

My hands are seen by my eyes,
My hands resting on the table;
Not a bay of my body
Neither extreme otherwise.

My fingers are a bridge to the eye,
My mouth same bridge to the smell and hearing;
My body is another bridge and my senses
Are immaterial water to close the banks.

My hands are doves and flowers,
My fingers rhizome of the foliage,
Branches ear: light sounding:
Before sailing a tree grows.

Here, where the eye is not looking
Following is the visible and the invisible;
Here where the ear is not the ear
Is ramaje what is audible and inaudible.

This sea are the senses
Came to light and last
It joined by the bridge grow water
Ocean total of what exists.

My body is not a body
Water in the water and limits lost
—On the other side of the bridge
The world crosses the bridge and falls on me.

Nothing is real, nothing is unreal
It is always now, the same time ever
Symbol lunar water in the water
And all places are the world.

There is no habit in the fire
There is no arguing this column pendulum body
No cause or chance, no purpose
Only light, and this silence that sounds.

Sitting at the table in front sailing
There is no longer any certainty or suspicion
There is no longer any joy or disappointment
Only this lightning sleep

(Fragment)

Farce men in the légamo of profit
Padrote of everyday life,
The new farce man reeks of money,
Smells gold belly of the earth,
Prometheus on his machine meat,
But there was no blood in their arteries profit,
No cardinal points, there is money,
The sacred symbol of this world;

Farce man copper and feces,
Life has made the Great Whore,
Smells of copper and profit, smells like pork,
Its estimated earnings in manure,
Eyes on the dollar's death
The voice in the sound of ussuraa,
Sound gray repta the world,
Silt that equates the soul and matter,
With losses, profits, dividends,
Man smells of copper and excrement,

Copper to the employer of laughter,
Copper advertising to the writer,
Copper to the merchant of hope,
Copper to the engineer's deception,
Copper to the banker's smile,
Copper to the culture of effort,
Copper to the promoter of the person,
Copper to the miracles of the market,
Copper to the cultivated fruit dead,
Copper to the sculptor of metals,
Copper to the bureaucrats servile,
Copper to the military in battle,
Copper to the virtue of the president,
Copper to the deputy in the assembly,
Copper to the gurus of the news,
Copper attorney to the courts,
Copper to which trades with life,
Copper to the charlatan watching gods,
Copper analyst at the consciences,
Copper to the surgeon's scalpel,
Copper to behavioral therapy,
Copper to child psychologists,
Copper to the doctor's prescription,
Copper for poets who fail to explode.

Copper going to the world, I am awake,
The voice of sight no longer sounds,
The wings of my hands are broken,
The bird of my body has been tired.

From Dream Alive.

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≈ ARTES PLÁSTICAS ≈


¿Para qué disfrazar al mundo humano con una belleza que raras veces tiene?
Hay que desnudarlo, exhibirlo, denunciarlo con toda la fuerza de la inteligencia
hasta hacerlo sentir vergüenza de sí mismo.
COSME ÁLVAREZ

Colaboradores de La Guarida

≈ In Memoriam ≈

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  • Uruguay (Montevideo)
  • Venezuela (Barquisimeto, Caracas, Chacao, Miranda, Valencia)

PAISES DONDE MÁS SE LEE LA GUARIDA

PAISES DONDE MÁS SE LEE LA GUARIDA

Países donde se leyó La Guarida del 1 al 30 de junio de 2016

Países donde se leyó La Guarida del 1 al 30 de junio de 2016
La primera columna de números a la derecha indica que en junio fueron leído 427 textos ≈ La tercera columna de números indica que tuvimos 2736 lectores de 26 países entre el 1 y el 30 de junio. Fuente: Contadores Miarroba

Los 15 países que más entran en La Guarida

  • 01. México
  • 02. Perú
  • 03. España
  • 04. Estados Unidos
  • 05. Argentina
  • 06. Colombia
  • 07. Chile
  • 08.Venezuela
  • 09. Alemania
  • 10. Francia
  • 11. Canadá
  • 12. Costa Rica
  • 13. Ecuador
  • 14. Suiza
  • 15. Guatemala


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Para el arte del siglo XXI, pienso en un animal ágil y salvaje
que sabe usar la mandíbula y los dientes, un animal que al dar
la dentellada es capaz de contener la esencia de su estado, y
también de transportar al hombre en el lomo hacia una verdad
completa de sí mismo.
MMMMMMMMMMMMMMMMMMMMMMMMMMMC.Á.

COSME ÁLVAREZ (1964)

COSME ÁLVAREZ (1964)
Libros publicados y antologías (1988-2015) (Click en la foto)
Cosme Álvarez on Facebook

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