tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-87640557197426725882024-03-13T11:19:29.411+01:00PÁGINAS ESCRITASContacto con la autora: ridocci.mercedes@gmail.comMercedes Ridoccihttp://www.blogger.com/profile/13415072870912903047noreply@blogger.comBlogger272125tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-8764055719742672588.post-91920086762583681672024-03-07T14:34:00.000+01:002024-03-07T14:34:04.749+01:00RUINOSO ATARDECER<p></p><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhmubY58LcCwkfVAZ4hkBVsS_LvwL8FUJ9JAG_lltijMAbcjNxe6biIwR5GXbjwYEj6VcXJgheLbuemtoJgJRDHeCKl55PcnhtVZw58GMoRUlAd7582yfk9n1TeCwMrGxwypjbiYuDSOzj94xtbAwCiVO2oSHeIBkCXgOJXFHDqjNDaRKOeE02YYBhj_-w2/s883/foto%20para%20ruinoso%20atardecer%20.jpeg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" data-original-height="550" data-original-width="883" height="398" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhmubY58LcCwkfVAZ4hkBVsS_LvwL8FUJ9JAG_lltijMAbcjNxe6biIwR5GXbjwYEj6VcXJgheLbuemtoJgJRDHeCKl55PcnhtVZw58GMoRUlAd7582yfk9n1TeCwMrGxwypjbiYuDSOzj94xtbAwCiVO2oSHeIBkCXgOJXFHDqjNDaRKOeE02YYBhj_-w2/w640-h398/foto%20para%20ruinoso%20atardecer%20.jpeg" width="640" /></a></div><span style="font-family: georgia; font-size: large;"><br />La mujer, bajo el paraguas<br />de una lluvia encolerizada<br />que no cesa,<br />brama entre calles solitarias.<br /><br />El hombre, hundido en el sofá,<br />la boca apretada<br />y los ojos prendidos entre<br />las letras del gran libro de los enigmas<br />espera a la mujer.<br /><br />En el cielo dos nubarrones<br />con fauces de lobo<br />se esconden detrás de tierras solitarias<br />con cielos sin cimientos<br />alertas, esperan la inevitable caída,<br />lluvia de sangre<br />inunda el ruinoso atardecer.<br /><br />Del poemario "Calladas soledades" - Mercedes Ridocci.<br /><br />Imagen de archivo personal.</span>Mercedes Ridoccihttp://www.blogger.com/profile/13415072870912903047noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-8764055719742672588.post-23593929015484477182024-03-05T13:28:00.002+01:002024-03-05T13:28:48.166+01:00<p></p><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgETb0e7yNwg1In0zjo_g4xNs0xITpkgwwejxrq-k1PxkRJK1p1Jh24PjfO2oX2g9hYgMHXCuD_1vs4MOqW0sxGI2FndtA6IX548hktIt6y28JCbM4iCISq3h0dvoe8G6h9V3sj_hWS0VK3b8YkVIZg6uM_5eiBT9rveVGEeYDoBT6mP_tn9m0gs5RZkbEz/s5184/IMG_3809%202.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" data-original-height="3456" data-original-width="5184" height="426" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgETb0e7yNwg1In0zjo_g4xNs0xITpkgwwejxrq-k1PxkRJK1p1Jh24PjfO2oX2g9hYgMHXCuD_1vs4MOqW0sxGI2FndtA6IX548hktIt6y28JCbM4iCISq3h0dvoe8G6h9V3sj_hWS0VK3b8YkVIZg6uM_5eiBT9rveVGEeYDoBT6mP_tn9m0gs5RZkbEz/w640-h426/IMG_3809%202.jpg" width="640" /></a></div><span style="font-family: georgia;"><br /><span style="font-size: large;">Ardo en fuego que no puedo apagar<br />mi cuerpo es un desierto<br />los árboles que me habitaban<br />fueron talados hace tiempo.<br /></span><br /><span style="font-size: medium;">Mercedes Ridocci</span></span><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><p class="p1" style="color: #454545; font-stretch: normal; font-variant-east-asian: normal; font-variant-numeric: normal; line-height: normal; margin: 0px; text-align: start;"><span style="font-family: georgia; font-size: medium;">Fotografía de la performance O las estaciones.</span></p><p class="p1" style="color: #454545; font-stretch: normal; font-variant-east-asian: normal; font-variant-numeric: normal; line-height: normal; margin: 0px; text-align: start;"><br /></p><p class="p1" style="color: #454545; font-stretch: normal; font-variant-east-asian: normal; font-variant-numeric: normal; line-height: normal; margin: 0px; text-align: start;"><span style="font-family: georgia; font-size: medium;"><br /></span></p><p class="p1" style="color: #454545; font-stretch: normal; font-variant-east-asian: normal; font-variant-numeric: normal; line-height: normal; margin: 0px; text-align: start;"><span style="font-family: georgia; font-size: medium;"><br /></span></p></div>Mercedes Ridoccihttp://www.blogger.com/profile/13415072870912903047noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-8764055719742672588.post-27472260995270080742024-03-04T14:15:00.003+01:002024-03-04T14:15:53.640+01:00<p></p><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjf_kTGzsfomkDrnWoX4goo6dWn7X5fwJ_jNVMV5GmMQDU4MAku6mhgoGJFTedOzIig0dGuu5KVgzlCBs9ZBoD1REwefLLg4Wej77u8zgMoD3enowHZhwWwyTNS7mzwA_EBleTyxMQykZM0EDlkFoL3FcV2KG0gHydvdzNaByH_jBKiU2bOHioQT2dW9s0x/s671/a2883387057_5.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" data-original-height="443" data-original-width="671" height="422" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjf_kTGzsfomkDrnWoX4goo6dWn7X5fwJ_jNVMV5GmMQDU4MAku6mhgoGJFTedOzIig0dGuu5KVgzlCBs9ZBoD1REwefLLg4Wej77u8zgMoD3enowHZhwWwyTNS7mzwA_EBleTyxMQykZM0EDlkFoL3FcV2KG0gHydvdzNaByH_jBKiU2bOHioQT2dW9s0x/w640-h422/a2883387057_5.jpg" width="640" /></a></div><br /><span style="font-family: georgia;"><span style="font-size: large;">Te pregunto: ¿me quieres?</span></span><div><span style="font-family: georgia;"><span style="font-size: large;">me respondes: te quiero</span><br /><span style="font-size: large;"><b>sin mirarme a los ojos.</b></span></span></div><div><div><span style="font-family: georgia;"><span style="font-size: medium;">Mercedes Ridocci</span></span></div><div><span style="font-family: georgia; font-size: medium;"><br /></span></div><div><span style="font-family: georgia; font-size: medium;">Imagen descargada de google<br /></span><p class="p2" style="color: #454545; font-family: "Helvetica Neue"; font-size: 12px; font-stretch: normal; font-variant-east-asian: normal; font-variant-numeric: normal; line-height: normal; margin: 0px; min-height: 14px;"><br /></p></div></div>Mercedes Ridoccihttp://www.blogger.com/profile/13415072870912903047noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-8764055719742672588.post-91604496663364727232024-02-18T10:40:00.002+01:002024-02-18T10:40:57.135+01:00<p> </p><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhPto4VD1JU94-DqlYZmikfvbVArTVRmNHtNYxHFmLMeYS8aUur7lvwSGGZintzcesItQFdGfeVs4K9s2BaL22q-n7-wU_9HmDt61y2vgnMfO0vPr6EqUS4-i2Zk2F2trR6zVNNm4dGzUIF7J0GFXeP4qIIsHx8kJFw4lry7ZHprDC-DBFDgH0iCaujIXeI/s1566/AP0200-cabeza-de-hombre-llorando-oswaldo-guayasamin.jpeg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" data-original-height="1566" data-original-width="1000" height="640" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhPto4VD1JU94-DqlYZmikfvbVArTVRmNHtNYxHFmLMeYS8aUur7lvwSGGZintzcesItQFdGfeVs4K9s2BaL22q-n7-wU_9HmDt61y2vgnMfO0vPr6EqUS4-i2Zk2F2trR6zVNNm4dGzUIF7J0GFXeP4qIIsHx8kJFw4lry7ZHprDC-DBFDgH0iCaujIXeI/w408-h640/AP0200-cabeza-de-hombre-llorando-oswaldo-guayasamin.jpeg" width="408" /></a></div><br /><span style="font-family: georgia;"><br /><br /><span style="font-size: medium;">Quiere llorar y no puede,</span><br /><br /><span style="font-size: medium;">hace tiempo que</span><br /><br /><span style="font-size: medium;">se le agotaron las lágrimas</span><br /><br /><span style="font-size: medium;">al morir su hijo. </span><br /><br /><span style="font-size: medium;">Entra en su habitación</span><br /><br /><span style="font-size: medium;">todo está cual lo dejó,</span><br /><br /><span style="font-size: medium;">su imagen se le aparece</span><br /><br /><span style="font-size: medium;">y le dice con la sonrisa a flor de piel</span><br /><br /><span style="font-size: medium;">“buenas noches, papá”</span><br /><br /><span style="font-size: medium;">Quiere llorar y no puede.</span><br /><br />Mercedes Ridocci</span><div><span style="font-family: georgia; font-size: medium;"><br /></span><p class="p1" style="color: #454545; font-family: "Helvetica Neue"; font-stretch: normal; font-variant-east-asian: normal; font-variant-numeric: normal; line-height: normal; margin: 0px;">Imagen:<span class="Apple-converted-space"> </span>cabeza-de-hombre-llorando-oswaldo-guayasamin.</p><p class="p2" style="color: #454545; font-family: "Helvetica Neue"; font-size: 12px; font-stretch: normal; font-variant-east-asian: normal; font-variant-numeric: normal; line-height: normal; margin: 0px; min-height: 14px;"><br /></p></div>Mercedes Ridoccihttp://www.blogger.com/profile/13415072870912903047noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-8764055719742672588.post-31496963318409004242024-02-13T10:35:00.001+01:002024-02-13T10:35:46.861+01:00<p class="p1" style="color: #454545; font-family: "Helvetica Neue"; font-size: 12px; font-stretch: normal; font-variant-east-asian: normal; font-variant-numeric: normal; line-height: normal; margin: 0px;"><br /></p><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgBrgVggAMnpT4IsV183yH6QNAQOgog22tJvGbH0PIMy9KGup-dWbjIElqPpgKVVgzj2-wKUYWsZh4My10DJNENmXGN74rRiCKyt-5MlGo_ngMb1oCAEb-_FLukQHOLoegD3-n7gg44gdsNL9Di5azqo8s_e8CDpefDriuLk101Xdef5nCLb-Z3LkkhFoSn/s1666/No%20hay%20ba%CC%81samo%20self-portrait22-by-francis-bacon-1973.jpeg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" data-original-height="1666" data-original-width="1240" height="640" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgBrgVggAMnpT4IsV183yH6QNAQOgog22tJvGbH0PIMy9KGup-dWbjIElqPpgKVVgzj2-wKUYWsZh4My10DJNENmXGN74rRiCKyt-5MlGo_ngMb1oCAEb-_FLukQHOLoegD3-n7gg44gdsNL9Di5azqo8s_e8CDpefDriuLk101Xdef5nCLb-Z3LkkhFoSn/w477-h640/No%20hay%20ba%CC%81samo%20self-portrait22-by-francis-bacon-1973.jpeg" width="477" /></a></div><p class="p1" style="color: #454545; font-family: "Helvetica Neue"; font-size: 12px; font-stretch: normal; font-variant-east-asian: normal; font-variant-numeric: normal; line-height: normal; margin: 0px;"><br /></p><span style="font-family: georgia;"><br /><span style="font-size: large;">No hay bálsamo</span><br /><br /><span style="font-size: large;">para el dolor </span><br /><br /><span style="font-size: large;">que mortifica el alma.</span><br /><br /><span style="font-size: medium;">Mercedes Ridocci</span><br /><br /><span style="font-size: medium;">Imagen – composición plástica de Francis Bacon<br /></span><br /></span><p class="p2" style="color: #454545; font-family: "Helvetica Neue"; font-size: 12px; font-stretch: normal; font-variant-east-asian: normal; font-variant-numeric: normal; line-height: normal; margin: 0px; min-height: 14px;"><br /></p>Mercedes Ridoccihttp://www.blogger.com/profile/13415072870912903047noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-8764055719742672588.post-13586310706454794822024-02-04T20:17:00.001+01:002024-02-04T20:27:55.333+01:00SE APAGA LA VELA<p></p><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: left;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgnch3V64z89BoGGFEuXodiCOdXho5AwS5G78inYcXvHFuq5NNvKGsKSBrekzqqD6FRI7XbgRzCmRgq3Ca6SEEW6eXO2HDPzvM_JE1WRlPPzUOLmNCQ_tbEUTO57zSM41G9Ib6CxDW6eupu5F_AwsnSgG0TgElqFXPn4IWOkSTfhjOHkIj1YY-_BfpP9I5u/s2304/FOTO%20SE%20APAGA%20LA%20VELA.jpg" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" data-original-height="2304" data-original-width="1449" height="640" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgnch3V64z89BoGGFEuXodiCOdXho5AwS5G78inYcXvHFuq5NNvKGsKSBrekzqqD6FRI7XbgRzCmRgq3Ca6SEEW6eXO2HDPzvM_JE1WRlPPzUOLmNCQ_tbEUTO57zSM41G9Ib6CxDW6eupu5F_AwsnSgG0TgElqFXPn4IWOkSTfhjOHkIj1YY-_BfpP9I5u/w402-h640/FOTO%20SE%20APAGA%20LA%20VELA.jpg" width="402" /></a><span face="Calibri, sans-serif" style="text-align: left;"> </span></div><span style="font-family: georgia; font-size: large;"><br />Los cimientos se tambalean <br />sus grietas desprenden tierra<br />destila por la nariz <br />por la boca<br />todo se tiñe de muerte.<br />Mercedes Ridocci<br /><br />Poema inspirado en mi padre poco antes de su muerte.<br /><br />Fotografía – mi padre</span><p class="MsoNormal" style="font-family: Calibri, sans-serif; margin: 0cm 0cm 0.0001pt;"><o:p> </o:p></p>Mercedes Ridoccihttp://www.blogger.com/profile/13415072870912903047noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-8764055719742672588.post-51281227580190281552024-01-31T13:58:00.002+01:002024-02-01T11:09:10.907+01:00EN LA LUZ DE LA NOCHE<div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: left;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiNAWjsc5F21MqnCY5HVO0csFE-jjXyTVmCja9ajq1tGu7nlJbPye3hJcPlFAPwh5RNyBtaKvkX5q1wj_sB65tqSGgKrLxEarr9ejFuuHI3yXrncUQYi2kIThCDb980-qjmEfCgnG6xhWTGO3dkiKwBHh66cVMtkPyAI5JQfZfZNdNLZmE1aKxtvYtUVTib/s1017/foto%20en%20la%20luz%20de%20la%20noche.png" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" data-original-height="565" data-original-width="1017" height="311" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiNAWjsc5F21MqnCY5HVO0csFE-jjXyTVmCja9ajq1tGu7nlJbPye3hJcPlFAPwh5RNyBtaKvkX5q1wj_sB65tqSGgKrLxEarr9ejFuuHI3yXrncUQYi2kIThCDb980-qjmEfCgnG6xhWTGO3dkiKwBHh66cVMtkPyAI5JQfZfZNdNLZmE1aKxtvYtUVTib/w559-h311/foto%20en%20la%20luz%20de%20la%20noche.png" width="559" /></a></div><br /></div><span style="font-family: georgia; font-size: large;"><div><span style="font-family: georgia; font-size: large;"><br /></span></div>En la luz de la noche aparece mi madre, <br />acurrucada en sus brazos <br />me abraza como cuando era un bebé<br />¡Siento tan nítido su calor<br />que al alba despierto<br />con una sonrisa en mis labios <br />y una lágrima de añoranza en mis ojos!</span><div><span style="font-family: georgia; font-size: large;"><br /></span></div><div><span style="font-family: georgia; font-size: medium;">Poema e imagen - Mercedes Ridocci</span></div>Mercedes Ridoccihttp://www.blogger.com/profile/13415072870912903047noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-8764055719742672588.post-4008768312071382372024-01-21T09:54:00.003+01:002024-02-01T11:12:49.293+01:00AHOGOS DESOÍDOS<p> </p><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgtT3n_4Mj5Va82R5rXuWb0DT-mPq2kz6NXaqt_WlOUICozDtD9ZNZ3DkCuzFZeohyphenhyphenNPnty_zN51q2ysbJi7gc35u6eLgJWQyU9j_AJ-WLUMYLoy8jMxfMSCQvXJMTndAxzbFkf6xoSuJaRxDTBJ_2r6BcNbGDAguxoC2svDkQqZ1gZTp6AV9w1qQ3BJlkL/s660/ahogos%20desoidos%20.jpeg" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" data-original-height="660" data-original-width="575" height="585" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgtT3n_4Mj5Va82R5rXuWb0DT-mPq2kz6NXaqt_WlOUICozDtD9ZNZ3DkCuzFZeohyphenhyphenNPnty_zN51q2ysbJi7gc35u6eLgJWQyU9j_AJ-WLUMYLoy8jMxfMSCQvXJMTndAxzbFkf6xoSuJaRxDTBJ_2r6BcNbGDAguxoC2svDkQqZ1gZTp6AV9w1qQ3BJlkL/w510-h585/ahogos%20desoidos%20.jpeg" width="510" /></a></div><span style="font-family: georgia;"><br /><span style="font-size: large;">Su cuerpo estalla </span><br /><br /><span style="font-size: large;">en ahogos</span><br /><br /><span style="font-size: large;">le oye sin escucharle</span><br /><br /><span style="font-size: large;">inundación salada</span><br /><br /><span style="font-size: large;">donde asfixiarse.</span><br /><br /><span style="font-size: medium;">Poema e imagen - Mercedes Ridocci</span></span><p></p>Mercedes Ridoccihttp://www.blogger.com/profile/13415072870912903047noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-8764055719742672588.post-170010910160372152024-01-20T20:21:00.003+01:002024-02-01T11:14:19.308+01:00<p> </p><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEj5eq8GyPQ3kH2uXccMRS-6ONtTnmzZ9_kvUma_sXOjRyt-2k89Ey7-755t_esVM8PC2Nts0FxEokOY_jmufHv5sZzTq4Zvqkxnb_tXy4v9SW8qC1xYVeUVdc2wAt5FkSPX0mSBoKmlnLLb13RoL2Cx6bmyXR2p4dwm_-I160Z85hBEH-QO7nuOyR_yIP7F/s620/foto%20corrientes%20de%20hielo.jpg" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" data-original-height="540" data-original-width="620" height="414" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEj5eq8GyPQ3kH2uXccMRS-6ONtTnmzZ9_kvUma_sXOjRyt-2k89Ey7-755t_esVM8PC2Nts0FxEokOY_jmufHv5sZzTq4Zvqkxnb_tXy4v9SW8qC1xYVeUVdc2wAt5FkSPX0mSBoKmlnLLb13RoL2Cx6bmyXR2p4dwm_-I160Z85hBEH-QO7nuOyR_yIP7F/w475-h414/foto%20corrientes%20de%20hielo.jpg" width="475" /></a></div><br /><p></p><p><span style="font-family: georgia; font-size: large;">Corrientes de hielo</span></p><p><span style="font-family: georgia; font-size: large;">recorren mi cuerpo,</span></p><p><span style="font-family: georgia; font-size: large;">se agrupan en mi pecho</span></p><p><span style="font-family: georgia; font-size: large;">cuchillos que punzan.</span></p><p><span style="font-family: georgia; font-size: medium;">Poema e imagen - Mercedes Ridocci</span></p>Mercedes Ridoccihttp://www.blogger.com/profile/13415072870912903047noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-8764055719742672588.post-82287489331950323912024-01-12T20:39:00.002+01:002024-01-12T20:39:33.431+01:00SECUESTRADA POR LA SOMBRA<div><span style="font-family: georgia;"><span style="font-size: large;"><br /></span></span></div><span style="font-family: georgia;"><span style="font-size: large;"><div><span style="font-family: georgia;"><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEj4nnAECcVCoNc826epRbahcAzzMhZyIb6vJy3l076Amot_gz3gQ_wKMVNyDqWonP5OG6jvVN7dnoOqCpeSzTHHJXZaYwrKcqzIr97D4qdoDqLrnNFy5nTjO0GjyifzceD_lSnewTLvcZq1IMLNLeXtZ-V9A9fjFeCltnZUqQsZCkTa_GUjRW981grvXZX8/s1329/Lucian%20Freud.jpeg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" data-original-height="1329" data-original-width="882" height="640" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEj4nnAECcVCoNc826epRbahcAzzMhZyIb6vJy3l076Amot_gz3gQ_wKMVNyDqWonP5OG6jvVN7dnoOqCpeSzTHHJXZaYwrKcqzIr97D4qdoDqLrnNFy5nTjO0GjyifzceD_lSnewTLvcZq1IMLNLeXtZ-V9A9fjFeCltnZUqQsZCkTa_GUjRW981grvXZX8/w424-h640/Lucian%20Freud.jpeg" width="424" /></a></div></span></div><div><span style="font-family: georgia;"><span style="font-size: large;"><br /></span></span></div>Dependes de una sombra <br />que te maltrata.<br />Cada mañana<br />al despertar<br />te propones abandonarla.<br />Vas a la cocina<br />y secuestrada por la sombra<br />desayunas con ella.<br /></span><br /></span><div><span style="font-family: georgia; font-size: medium;">Mercedes Ridocci<br /><br />Imagen - Lucian Freud</span></div>Mercedes Ridoccihttp://www.blogger.com/profile/13415072870912903047noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-8764055719742672588.post-12839112463662311232024-01-03T11:42:00.004+01:002024-01-03T11:42:51.518+01:00LAVA DEL ALMA<p><br /></p><span style="font-family: georgia; font-size: large;">Tus besos son agua para mi sed, <br />rocío para mi hendida tierra<br />puñales sobre mi frágil ser.<br /><br />Tus palabras son <br />sonidos que sangran, <br />silencios que gritan <br />como suaves caricias.<br /><br />Dulce murmullo<br />que cautiva la voluntad:<br />fuego en mi corazón<br />lava del alma<br /><br />Pasión<br />que se derrama en ausencias...</span><div><span style="font-family: georgia; font-size: large;"><br /></span></div><div><span style="font-family: georgia;"><span style="font-size: medium;">Mercedes Ridocci<br /></span><br /></span><p><br /></p><p><br /></p><p><br /></p><p><br /></p></div>Mercedes Ridoccihttp://www.blogger.com/profile/13415072870912903047noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-8764055719742672588.post-37594821052223597762023-12-21T10:49:00.001+01:002024-02-01T11:15:11.117+01:00LA CARA Y LA CRUZ<p></p><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgp2zrDMHU74vn623YZugp6fcjidost7RfUrDN2rPA16ovRuX-xGvPWvMPC7F0bPTdehAfa8AC3Xjw962qcldS2N-dqHEFmYEeaBy2EhBTuxsH75sLG2_r9EHQHo1dH0MCrvpAwNuedxblhqBVUYiczJZ50YooCTnaUfmWCWiShTuZZ2yM-xQgA9zZfSb96/s922/cara%20y%20cruz.png" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" data-original-height="707" data-original-width="922" height="412" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgp2zrDMHU74vn623YZugp6fcjidost7RfUrDN2rPA16ovRuX-xGvPWvMPC7F0bPTdehAfa8AC3Xjw962qcldS2N-dqHEFmYEeaBy2EhBTuxsH75sLG2_r9EHQHo1dH0MCrvpAwNuedxblhqBVUYiczJZ50YooCTnaUfmWCWiShTuZZ2yM-xQgA9zZfSb96/w539-h412/cara%20y%20cruz.png" width="539" /></a></div><br /> <p></p>Mercedes Ridoccihttp://www.blogger.com/profile/13415072870912903047noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-8764055719742672588.post-74378199251929087782023-12-17T20:07:00.001+01:002024-02-01T11:18:19.857+01:00<p></p><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEh3NQveqXMNVA4nJRHtFd-CLu0-JTQJSg5vK4GDrJhUaBUfM-TuPw5zgUHdx3MX6jHIdYCGKwzxNturDpBFTwSPtYKC_2ld7A8Rhx568XLOV_OMkcNxOP2Es4euLLu90l12zy8upuj-eQyGwLuB5rzfM83m684xLr_2fZU6ACxztoMTdOIuejTt-tbAU1Hn/s1241/foto%20para%20el%20poema%20enredada.jpeg" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" data-original-height="773" data-original-width="1241" height="348" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEh3NQveqXMNVA4nJRHtFd-CLu0-JTQJSg5vK4GDrJhUaBUfM-TuPw5zgUHdx3MX6jHIdYCGKwzxNturDpBFTwSPtYKC_2ld7A8Rhx568XLOV_OMkcNxOP2Es4euLLu90l12zy8upuj-eQyGwLuB5rzfM83m684xLr_2fZU6ACxztoMTdOIuejTt-tbAU1Hn/w560-h348/foto%20para%20el%20poema%20enredada.jpeg" width="560" /></a></div><br /><p></p><p><span style="font-family: georgia; font-size: x-large;">Enredada, amurallada</span></p><p><span style="font-family: georgia; font-size: x-large;">se protege del aterrador mundo</span></p><p><span style="font-family: georgia; font-size: x-large;">que gira a su alrededor.</span></p><p><span style="font-family: georgia; font-size: large;">Mercedes Ridocci</span></p><p><span style="font-family: georgia; font-size: large;">Imagen de la composición escénica "Morfosis" - Mercedes Ridocci 2015</span></p><p><br /></p>Mercedes Ridoccihttp://www.blogger.com/profile/13415072870912903047noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-8764055719742672588.post-23487998743309449732023-12-09T11:48:00.001+01:002023-12-09T11:48:39.370+01:00ELLA<p> </p><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhl1VoVygUYprdRXCXTvJD41OZ9tFW4rySLZwAsMkFyZOjN9L1lEb5d5tbJ1J5ruceezI18TNrE8Nb3gkF6x07j_q_WLfnqVQ-507457F7mhgIfdwAbPMmNG2twhQ5hpgEV_drMEMmwI5ln7yCp578D4j3mqXJCDN7-G0Kg0pviKyujZt3EUDWUivKhD_Pj/s1209/IMAGEN%20PARA%20LE%20POEMA%20ELLA.jpg" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" data-original-height="1074" data-original-width="1209" height="568" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhl1VoVygUYprdRXCXTvJD41OZ9tFW4rySLZwAsMkFyZOjN9L1lEb5d5tbJ1J5ruceezI18TNrE8Nb3gkF6x07j_q_WLfnqVQ-507457F7mhgIfdwAbPMmNG2twhQ5hpgEV_drMEMmwI5ln7yCp578D4j3mqXJCDN7-G0Kg0pviKyujZt3EUDWUivKhD_Pj/w640-h568/IMAGEN%20PARA%20LE%20POEMA%20ELLA.jpg" width="640" /></a></div><p></p><span style="font-family: georgia; font-size: large;"><div><span style="font-family: georgia; font-size: large;"><br /></span></div>Este poema está inspirado en la pérdida de la memoria cuando asalta el alzhéimer o la demencia senil.<br /><br /></span><div><span style="font-family: georgia; font-size: large;">ELLA, siempre tan cuerda, <br />ahora no retiene <br />en su memoria<br />si cambió las toallas,<br />si enchufó la lavadora,<br />si prendió el incienso,<br />si hizo la cama,<br />si puso a cocer las patatas,<br />si dio de comer a los gatos,<br />si regó las plantas,<br />si…<br />Vuelve sobre sus pasos<br />una y otra vez.<br />No puede con la cruz que <br />el tiempo despiadado <br />tenía reservada para ella.<br />Se sienta en la silla de la cocina<br />y a solas<br />llora.</span></div><div><span style="font-family: georgia; font-size: large;"><br /></span></div><div><span style="font-family: georgia; font-size: large;">Poema e imagen - Mercedes Ridocci</span></div><div><br /><div><div class="x1jx94hy xh8yej3" style="font-family: inherit; width: 700px;"></div></div></div>Mercedes Ridoccihttp://www.blogger.com/profile/13415072870912903047noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-8764055719742672588.post-61086795949732248092023-11-12T11:31:00.001+01:002023-11-12T11:31:30.065+01:00CARNE HE HUELE A MUERTE<span style="font-size: large;">Carne que huele a muerte<br />gime en mis vísceras gastadas.<br /><br />En arterias cegadas por coágulos de sangre<br />laten golpes homicidas<br />rompen mi aliento.<br /><br />Allí donde el miedo y el deseo<br />se abrazan con los dientes<br />espero el quiebro de mi último soplo<br />de mi última mirada<br />el instante en que mi alma <br />se extinga en mi cuerpo blanco.</span><div><span style="font-size: large;"><br /></span></div><div><span style="font-size: medium;">Mercedes Ridocci<br /></span><br /> <br /><br /> <p class="MsoNormal" style="font-family: "Times New Roman", serif; margin: 0cm 0cm 0.0001pt;"><span lang="ES-TRAD"> </span></p></div>Mercedes Ridoccihttp://www.blogger.com/profile/13415072870912903047noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-8764055719742672588.post-56985583650587642012023-11-11T10:35:00.003+01:002023-11-11T10:35:32.266+01:00EL DOLOR PRESO<p></p><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgoapRXyE22_2ovlNg08_PvFXRay_DeeKWsaWKB8JZIphkM7dc5ZNY2NKgExs8OCizL06S3h5QlZISAorvGoWGtK72_j8W5Pd7xi3nfrGQhmfrgakVvRrBelX8FPstU3bQW5qoVEyiFbcNiTJaeksm2Upurw4AB8iu0ZoeajNGsr-kAQFt0-IsyTEvjkpwL/s1155/El%20dolor%20preso.jpeg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" data-original-height="667" data-original-width="1155" height="370" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgoapRXyE22_2ovlNg08_PvFXRay_DeeKWsaWKB8JZIphkM7dc5ZNY2NKgExs8OCizL06S3h5QlZISAorvGoWGtK72_j8W5Pd7xi3nfrGQhmfrgakVvRrBelX8FPstU3bQW5qoVEyiFbcNiTJaeksm2Upurw4AB8iu0ZoeajNGsr-kAQFt0-IsyTEvjkpwL/w640-h370/El%20dolor%20preso.jpeg" width="640" /></a></div><span style="font-family: georgia; font-size: large;"><div><span style="font-family: georgia; font-size: large;"><br /></span></div>El dolor preso<br />en el vientre del miedo<br />hoy se desagua<br />en violenta cascada<br />sobre angosta garganta.</span><div><span style="font-family: georgia; font-size: large;"><br /></span></div><div><span style="font-family: georgia;"><span style="font-size: medium;">Poema e imagen - Mercedes Ridocci</span><br /><br /><br /><br /></span></div>Mercedes Ridoccihttp://www.blogger.com/profile/13415072870912903047noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-8764055719742672588.post-87102773851160473592023-11-06T12:13:00.000+01:002023-11-06T12:13:03.243+01:00UN DORADO SUAVE<p></p><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgtjVNg9XtsqF8ldRRNW2R2RYYWHn1YegB7E7YHV9f4rSESjjhO4kQzj0SMiFKkNMk6avOAjVibjCcw6_hISkPLCORBNgjocNKso6WMSLH_kn37jIhVWp9BZ6Aw5FsBJPLr4ydepPywK9J2wLYtvrwV1DilDEdxt415-3ekIWneRe_Z0EpjKFDLmYaFDJWQ/s857/llevabas%20en%20el%20rostro.jpeg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" data-original-height="857" data-original-width="808" height="640" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgtjVNg9XtsqF8ldRRNW2R2RYYWHn1YegB7E7YHV9f4rSESjjhO4kQzj0SMiFKkNMk6avOAjVibjCcw6_hISkPLCORBNgjocNKso6WMSLH_kn37jIhVWp9BZ6Aw5FsBJPLr4ydepPywK9J2wLYtvrwV1DilDEdxt415-3ekIWneRe_Z0EpjKFDLmYaFDJWQ/w604-h640/llevabas%20en%20el%20rostro.jpeg" width="604" /></a></div><span style="font-family: georgia;"><br /><span style="font-size: large;">Traías en el rostro un dorado suave</span><br /><br /><span style="font-size: large;">un sabor a rojo empapó mi ser</span><br /><br /><span style="font-size: large;">fue tan dulce tu sonrisa</span><br /><br /><span style="font-size: large;">que perturbó mi alma.</span><br /><br /><span style="font-size: large;">Echo de menos el salado de tu piel</span><br /><br /><span style="font-size: large;">el olor a salitre de tu pelo</span><br /><br /><span style="font-size: large;">el manso azul de tus ojos</span><br /><br /><span style="font-size: large;">tu olor grabado a fuego en mi memoria</span><br /><br /><span style="font-size: large;">tatuado en mi corazón.</span><br /><br /><span style="font-size: large;">tintado en todo mí ser.</span><br /><br /><br /><span style="font-size: medium;">Poema e imagen - Mercedes Ridocci</span></span>Mercedes Ridoccihttp://www.blogger.com/profile/13415072870912903047noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-8764055719742672588.post-47620586354618833312023-10-31T14:11:00.002+01:002023-10-31T14:13:33.249+01:00PODRÍA OLVIDARTE - Poema de mi autoría recitado por el actor Juanjo Reiz<p></p><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><iframe allowfullscreen='allowfullscreen' webkitallowfullscreen='webkitallowfullscreen' mozallowfullscreen='mozallowfullscreen' width='320' height='266' src='https://www.blogger.com/video.g?token=AD6v5dzMpAMNGCOmrdsQm4s6HLpSaScMhUM7SiFfTiyH7CbK4_PAb-0-mDMPZ2-lp_zRxhWwQZmFosa8dtnOWXcT4g' class='b-hbp-video b-uploaded' frameborder='0'></iframe></div><div><p class="MsoNormal" style="font-family: "Times New Roman", serif; margin: 0cm 0cm 0.0001pt;"><span face="Arial, sans-serif" style="color: white; font-size: 10pt;"> </span></p><p class="MsoNormal" style="font-family: "Times New Roman", serif; margin: 0cm 0cm 0.0001pt;"><b><i><span face="Arial, sans-serif" style="background-color: black; background-position: initial initial; background-repeat: initial initial; color: white; font-size: 18pt;">Juanjo Reiz - actor y administrator de </span></i></b><span style="color: white; font-size: 10pt;"><o:p></o:p></span></p><p class="MsoNormal" style="font-family: "Times New Roman", serif; margin: 0cm 0cm 0.0001pt;"><b><i><span style="color: white; font-size: 18pt;"><a href="https://www.facebook.com/groups/2235330296499929/" style="color: #954f72;"><span face="Arial, sans-serif" style="color: #444444;">Teatro Ahora - Juanjo Reiz</span></a></span></i></b><b><i><span style="color: white; font-size: 10pt;"><br /><br /><br /></span></i></b><span style="color: white; font-size: 10pt;"><o:p></o:p></span></p><p><u1:p></u1:p></p><p class="MsoNormal" style="font-family: "Times New Roman", serif; margin: 0cm 0cm 0.0001pt;"><u2:p></u2:p><span style="color: white; font-size: 10pt;"> </span></p></div>Mercedes Ridoccihttp://www.blogger.com/profile/13415072870912903047noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-8764055719742672588.post-37930951285119480872023-10-30T10:27:00.000+01:002023-10-30T10:27:28.273+01:00TINIEBLAS<p></p><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjWXYSgbYl81zpKeBFf1l3O3sJzCMeQKY02M3Xv4caulkOHJTSq43S3VmWk5iJxKdHVZ0OZj9tTxPPeyqiqt57QHdGdahN_U0O3-mLcGJBy_gh2xF_iq6J_akAKwLua0uPDhOD53zuEwlMekEC6sLKN-DUaoC1egAOvMjGdRzwbPXAPuk2JTWDfH_cFz0_m/s5184/TINIEBLAS.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" data-original-height="3456" data-original-width="5184" height="426" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjWXYSgbYl81zpKeBFf1l3O3sJzCMeQKY02M3Xv4caulkOHJTSq43S3VmWk5iJxKdHVZ0OZj9tTxPPeyqiqt57QHdGdahN_U0O3-mLcGJBy_gh2xF_iq6J_akAKwLua0uPDhOD53zuEwlMekEC6sLKN-DUaoC1egAOvMjGdRzwbPXAPuk2JTWDfH_cFz0_m/w640-h426/TINIEBLAS.jpg" width="640" /></a></div><p></p><span style="font-family: georgia; font-size: large;">Huimos de la luz que alumbra nuestras miserias.<br />Nos vemos en las tinieblas que segura las oculta.<br />Huimos de la luz que ilumina nuestros miedos.<br />Nos vemos en las tinieblas que experta los vela. <br />Huimos de la luz que grita nuestros secretos.<br />Nos vemos en las tinieblas que certera los silencia.<br />Huimos de la luz que inflama nuestra pasión.<br />Nos vemos en las tinieblas que con espinas la entierra.<br /><br /></span><div><span style="font-family: georgia; font-size: medium;">Mercedes Ridocci<br />Fotografía - Mercedes Ridocci</span></div>Mercedes Ridoccihttp://www.blogger.com/profile/13415072870912903047noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-8764055719742672588.post-48052897895423434072023-10-25T12:03:00.001+02:002023-10-25T12:03:31.384+02:00RONDA LA MUERTE<p> </p><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjUt4wy2wZcQD46qmsVE0UZCVcetdl38Y7K2YMmK_gsKej1j5oJsys9MtnFzER21HPdPAnGGjg5gBkykjWz2QrWZsGpXo7FRtAnii9aPy1piRrqp6DdBRxyq0g8hsGqhQZW5NJzWg7XuVeYpN1dFHCvGd-yPrOhWsUKPhvLGAsJvR0EKfWxukIQQK1Oqh6D/s1097/Ronda%20la%20muerte.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" data-original-height="544" data-original-width="1097" height="318" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjUt4wy2wZcQD46qmsVE0UZCVcetdl38Y7K2YMmK_gsKej1j5oJsys9MtnFzER21HPdPAnGGjg5gBkykjWz2QrWZsGpXo7FRtAnii9aPy1piRrqp6DdBRxyq0g8hsGqhQZW5NJzWg7XuVeYpN1dFHCvGd-yPrOhWsUKPhvLGAsJvR0EKfWxukIQQK1Oqh6D/w640-h318/Ronda%20la%20muerte.jpg" width="640" /></a></div><p></p><p class="MsoNormal" style="font-family: Calibri, sans-serif; margin: 0cm 0cm 0.0001pt;"><o:p></o:p></p><span style="font-family: georgia; font-size: large;">Ronda la muerte<br /><br />me ahoga con su manto.<br /><br />La sombra de la luna<br /><br />ciega mi morada. </span><p class="MsoNormal" style="font-family: Calibri, sans-serif; margin: 0cm 0cm 0.0001pt;"><o:p> </o:p></p><p class="MsoNormal" style="font-family: Calibri, sans-serif; margin: 0cm 0cm 0.0001pt;"><br /></p><p class="MsoNormal" style="margin: 0cm 0cm 0.0001pt;"><span style="font-family: georgia; font-size: medium;">Poema e imagen – Mercedes Ridocci</span><span style="font-family: Calibri, sans-serif;"><o:p></o:p></span></p><p class="MsoNormal" style="font-family: Calibri, sans-serif; margin: 0cm 0cm 0.0001pt;"><o:p> </o:p></p><p class="MsoNormal" style="font-family: Calibri, sans-serif; margin: 0cm 0cm 0.0001pt;"><o:p> </o:p></p><p class="MsoNormal" style="font-family: Calibri, sans-serif; margin: 0cm 0cm 0.0001pt;"><o:p> </o:p></p>Mercedes Ridoccihttp://www.blogger.com/profile/13415072870912903047noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-8764055719742672588.post-74955930189801211152023-10-18T13:53:00.001+02:002023-10-18T13:53:52.504+02:00SELVA<p> </p><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjnTptu0ypAduBJw-jMuXoCL1PmLijcNyCyCwoFTxo9nomR_k9eIlu-gCXH4GIQydES3vKTRSp-wXcb3z9ddRdSKn-1whP85i1aLYQQwGh_miEuqmNNSjFgwK6x7W390A7XOwNSaqrBhc3Q_dnpT1S0LMfL7MkZ6MCD7McXSQIZ7xFYKiiZidc52PQ6LFRb/s2000/foto%20para%20cuento%20Selva.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" data-original-height="2000" data-original-width="1252" height="640" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjnTptu0ypAduBJw-jMuXoCL1PmLijcNyCyCwoFTxo9nomR_k9eIlu-gCXH4GIQydES3vKTRSp-wXcb3z9ddRdSKn-1whP85i1aLYQQwGh_miEuqmNNSjFgwK6x7W390A7XOwNSaqrBhc3Q_dnpT1S0LMfL7MkZ6MCD7McXSQIZ7xFYKiiZidc52PQ6LFRb/w400-h640/foto%20para%20cuento%20Selva.jpg" width="400" /></a><span style="font-family: Calibri, sans-serif; text-align: left;"> </span></div><p></p><p class="MsoNormal" style="font-family: Calibri, sans-serif; margin: 0cm 0cm 0.0001pt;"><o:p> </o:p></p><p class="MsoNormal" style="margin: 0cm 0cm 0.0001pt;"><span style="font-family: georgia; font-size: large;">Me encanta ir a casa de mis abuelos porque tienen un pasillo muy largo cubierto por una alfombra de madera encerada sobre la que me deslizo como si llevara patines. También tienen muchas habitaciones y me escondo debajo de las camas, mis abuelos se vuelven locos buscándome hasta que salgo de mi escondrijo y entonces respiran tranquilos. También me gusta ir porque mi abuela me da patatas fritas sin que se entere mi padre porque a él no le gusta nada que las tome ya que tienen mucha sal. <o:p></o:p></span></p><p class="MsoNormal" style="margin: 0cm 0cm 0.0001pt;"><span style="font-family: georgia; font-size: large;">Si es que soy una perrita muy juguetona, traviesa y alegre. </span><span style="font-family: Calibri, sans-serif;"><o:p></o:p></span></p><p class="MsoNormal" style="font-family: Calibri, sans-serif; margin: 0cm 0cm 0.0001pt;"><br /></p><p class="MsoNormal" style="margin: 0cm 0cm 0.0001pt;"><span style="font-family: georgia; font-size: medium;">Texto e imagen : Mercedes Ridocci</span></p><p class="MsoNormal" style="font-family: Calibri, sans-serif; margin: 0cm 0cm 0.0001pt;"><span style="font-family: "Times New Roman", serif;"><span style="font-size: medium;"> </span></span></p><p class="MsoNormal" style="font-family: Calibri, sans-serif; margin: 0cm 0cm 0.0001pt;"> <o:p></o:p></p>Mercedes Ridoccihttp://www.blogger.com/profile/13415072870912903047noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-8764055719742672588.post-18440612285908463902023-10-16T14:04:00.000+02:002023-10-16T14:04:17.574+02:00RÍO DE LÁGRIMAS<p></p><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEil0kEUbelViucUWjf7V9V3EI-hhnEnutZhqgu0VVMciehHN9GmaIZSMmw0lFl5tdN43Xk04KEe0E107h8wyvG-Aic5JQGXPueWt1AShm9kNudwuYmt9t3720YTYVDHFqVZOvEDTRzoFySQ8rxyV17HKXb_O78BCEKw3PuPIUPJbNzQb8C6QhuHlOMfXSGt/s1000/para%20poema%20un%20ri%CC%81o%20de%20la%CC%81grimas.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" data-original-height="562" data-original-width="1000" height="360" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEil0kEUbelViucUWjf7V9V3EI-hhnEnutZhqgu0VVMciehHN9GmaIZSMmw0lFl5tdN43Xk04KEe0E107h8wyvG-Aic5JQGXPueWt1AShm9kNudwuYmt9t3720YTYVDHFqVZOvEDTRzoFySQ8rxyV17HKXb_O78BCEKw3PuPIUPJbNzQb8C6QhuHlOMfXSGt/w640-h360/para%20poema%20un%20ri%CC%81o%20de%20la%CC%81grimas.jpg" width="640" /></a></div><br /><p></p><p class="MsoNormal" style="font-family: "Times New Roman", serif; margin: 0cm 0cm 0.0001pt;"><br /></p><span style="font-family: georgia; font-size: large;">Un río de lágrimas desliza <br /><br />por el rostro de la mujer<br /><br />se ahoga.<br /><br />Él está ahí <br /><br />mirándola sin entender.</span><div><span style="font-family: georgia; font-size: large;"><br /></span></div><div><span style="font-family: georgia; font-size: medium;">Poema e imagen: Mercedes Ridocci<br /></span><p class="MsoNormal" style="font-family: Calibri, sans-serif; margin: 0cm 0cm 0.0001pt;"><o:p><span style="font-size: medium;"> </span></o:p></p><p class="MsoNormal" style="font-family: Calibri, sans-serif; margin: 0cm 0cm 0.0001pt;"><o:p><span style="font-size: medium;"> </span></o:p></p></div>Mercedes Ridoccihttp://www.blogger.com/profile/13415072870912903047noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-8764055719742672588.post-17057444160083665292023-09-27T11:16:00.004+02:002023-09-27T19:41:49.123+02:00PERDIDA<p> </p><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgyHfsTyTXFA37DGxzpC9juJmssca0mlWWkr6aG_0iNRs1WEktSojiI0JEFWKoLbwIG9L9RvzCXTDr7XdXJLZAnuj4up_mLgy0-sU9kFsiJ2tOFEFDuMDf_NXRSSldg0pJ2gO-CCS-WGI_sVlnxbBZNdYQyvok2LhQ8f35XX29b7hsUFD7Jc1VIJR4YeNVU/s753/YA%20NO%20SE%CC%81.jpg" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" data-original-height="753" data-original-width="612" height="640" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgyHfsTyTXFA37DGxzpC9juJmssca0mlWWkr6aG_0iNRs1WEktSojiI0JEFWKoLbwIG9L9RvzCXTDr7XdXJLZAnuj4up_mLgy0-sU9kFsiJ2tOFEFDuMDf_NXRSSldg0pJ2gO-CCS-WGI_sVlnxbBZNdYQyvok2LhQ8f35XX29b7hsUFD7Jc1VIJR4YeNVU/w520-h640/YA%20NO%20SE%CC%81.jpg" width="520" /></a><span face="Calibri, sans-serif" style="text-align: left;"> </span></div><p class="MsoNormal" style="margin: 0cm 0cm 0.0001pt;"><span style="font-family: georgia; font-size: large;">Ya no sé <o:p></o:p></span></p><p class="MsoNormal" style="margin: 0cm 0cm 0.0001pt;"><span style="font-family: georgia; font-size: large;">si amanece o atardece.<o:p></o:p></span></p><p class="MsoNormal" style="margin: 0cm 0cm 0.0001pt;"><span style="font-family: georgia; font-size: large;">Ya no sé<o:p></o:p></span></p><p class="MsoNormal" style="margin: 0cm 0cm 0.0001pt;"><span style="font-family: georgia; font-size: large;">qué día de la semana es. <o:p></o:p></span></p><p class="MsoNormal" style="margin: 0cm 0cm 0.0001pt;"><span style="font-family: georgia; font-size: large;">Ya no sé<o:p></o:p></span></p><p class="MsoNormal" style="margin: 0cm 0cm 0.0001pt;"><span style="font-family: georgia; font-size: large;">si es primavera<o:p></o:p></span></p><p class="MsoNormal" style="margin: 0cm 0cm 0.0001pt;"><span style="font-family: georgia; font-size: large;">verano<o:p></o:p></span></p><p class="MsoNormal" style="margin: 0cm 0cm 0.0001pt;"><span style="font-family: georgia; font-size: large;">otoño<o:p></o:p></span></p><p class="MsoNormal" style="margin: 0cm 0cm 0.0001pt;"><span style="font-family: georgia; font-size: large;">o invierno<o:p></o:p></span></p><p class="MsoNormal" style="margin: 0cm 0cm 0.0001pt;"><span style="font-family: georgia; font-size: large;">Ya no sé <o:p></o:p></span></p><p class="MsoNormal" style="margin: 0cm 0cm 0.0001pt;"><span style="font-family: georgia; font-size: large;">si he comido o no.<o:p></o:p></span></p><p class="MsoNormal" style="margin: 0cm 0cm 0.0001pt;"><span style="font-family: georgia; font-size: large;">Ya no sé<o:p></o:p></span></p><p class="MsoNormal" style="margin: 0cm 0cm 0.0001pt;"><span style="font-family: georgia; font-size: large;">si mi hijo <o:p></o:p></span></p><p class="MsoNormal" style="margin: 0cm 0cm 0.0001pt;"><span style="font-family: georgia; font-size: large;">ha venido<o:p></o:p></span></p><p class="MsoNormal" style="margin: 0cm 0cm 0.0001pt;"><span style="font-family: georgia; font-size: large;">a visitarme.<o:p></o:p></span></p><p class="MsoNormal" style="margin: 0cm 0cm 0.0001pt;"><span style="font-family: georgia; font-size: large;">Ya no sé<o:p></o:p></span></p><p class="MsoNormal" style="margin: 0cm 0cm 0.0001pt;"><span style="font-family: georgia; font-size: large;">si soy joven <o:p></o:p></span></p><p class="MsoNormal" style="margin: 0cm 0cm 0.0001pt;"><span style="font-family: georgia; font-size: large;">o vieja.<o:p></o:p></span></p><p class="MsoNormal" style="margin: 0cm 0cm 0.0001pt;"><span style="font-family: georgia; font-size: large;">Ya no sé<o:p></o:p></span></p><p class="MsoNormal" style="margin: 0cm 0cm 0.0001pt;"><span style="font-family: georgia; font-size: large;">quien soy.</span><span face="Calibri, sans-serif"><o:p></o:p></span></p><p class="MsoNormal" style="font-family: Calibri, sans-serif; margin: 0cm 0cm 0.0001pt;"><o:p> </o:p></p><p class="MsoNormal" style="margin: 0cm 0cm 0.0001pt;"><span style="font-family: georgia; font-size: medium;">Poema e imagen - Mercedes Ridocci</span></p><p class="MsoNormal" style="margin: 0cm 0cm 0.0001pt;"><o:p><span style="font-family: georgia; font-size: medium;"> </span></o:p></p><p class="MsoNormal" style="font-family: Calibri, sans-serif; margin: 0cm 0cm 0.0001pt;"><br /></p><p class="MsoNormal" style="font-family: Calibri, sans-serif; margin: 0cm 0cm 0.0001pt;"><o:p> </o:p></p>Mercedes Ridoccihttp://www.blogger.com/profile/13415072870912903047noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-8764055719742672588.post-84045734161056098302023-09-20T11:58:00.001+02:002023-09-20T11:58:40.775+02:00TIEMPOS DE ESPESURA<p class="MsoNormal" style="font-family: "Times New Roman", serif; margin: 0cm 0cm 0.0001pt;"></p><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgeMbyK876SWK0_nF5bCFvL9Wb156ljU1hDOHaKv6a4LOSIF4DhGvLuGEzKrdr2gnAjus6auGg4RP9mtUOYBtAJAifILYK7jDXNQXaviFktq5hJ6SaQnMf8m_NfFDnwREgqG8iITFRjflv3k1cTa6RRcih6FMZPkf-UQSGd-C75H5BYBA4EhVzC_avfvRoH/s960/Foto%20de%20Norberto.jpeg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" data-original-height="960" data-original-width="720" height="640" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgeMbyK876SWK0_nF5bCFvL9Wb156ljU1hDOHaKv6a4LOSIF4DhGvLuGEzKrdr2gnAjus6auGg4RP9mtUOYBtAJAifILYK7jDXNQXaviFktq5hJ6SaQnMf8m_NfFDnwREgqG8iITFRjflv3k1cTa6RRcih6FMZPkf-UQSGd-C75H5BYBA4EhVzC_avfvRoH/w480-h640/Foto%20de%20Norberto.jpeg" width="480" /></a></div><br /><p class="MsoNormal" style="font-family: "Times New Roman", serif; margin: 0cm 0cm 0.0001pt;"><span style="font-family: georgia;"><span style="font-size: large;">En este banco,</span></span></p><span style="font-family: georgia; font-size: large;"><br />cuando el atardecer<br /><br />lo tintaba de escarlata<br /><br />nos declaramos amor eterno<br /><br />ignorando que <br /><br />los tiempos de espesura<br /><br />lo sepultaría para siempre.<br /><br /> </span><p class="MsoNormal" style="margin: 0cm 0cm 0.0001pt;"><span style="font-family: georgia; font-size: medium;">Poema - Mercedes Ridocci, inspirado en la imagen.<o:p></o:p></span></p><p class="MsoNormal" style="margin: 0cm 0cm 0.0001pt;"><span style="font-family: georgia;"><span style="font-size: medium;">Fotografía cedida por un amigo.</span><o:p></o:p></span></p><p class="MsoNormal" style="margin: 0cm 0cm 0.0001pt;"><o:p><span style="font-family: georgia;"> </span></o:p></p><p class="MsoNormal" style="margin: 0cm 0cm 0.0001pt;"><o:p><span style="font-family: georgia;"> </span></o:p></p><p class="MsoNormal" style="font-family: "Times New Roman", serif; margin: 0cm 0cm 0.0001pt;"><o:p> </o:p></p>Mercedes Ridoccihttp://www.blogger.com/profile/13415072870912903047noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-8764055719742672588.post-60336869069471214182023-09-16T20:24:00.001+02:002023-09-16T20:24:55.744+02:00Fuera - Dentro<p> </p><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhhJllPXhOg22BeznZmBEnJWke0gbGImlOUQWl8BeqNX5ItQcu75sNwR7EJTf09pr5XX0ZnwNCQYooqFz4hLW0qvh689uL8ngaij1U1ZEJ1p31UH1c8SCJa6Krfdyjy47KjmokTTN4L_aQcqEwSCvB2hjZbGz3FOPGUDp3oL5gWd4ocwCRwxbxNZSSqEWz0/s3079/para%20poema%20%20fuera.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" data-original-height="3079" data-original-width="2041" height="640" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhhJllPXhOg22BeznZmBEnJWke0gbGImlOUQWl8BeqNX5ItQcu75sNwR7EJTf09pr5XX0ZnwNCQYooqFz4hLW0qvh689uL8ngaij1U1ZEJ1p31UH1c8SCJa6Krfdyjy47KjmokTTN4L_aQcqEwSCvB2hjZbGz3FOPGUDp3oL5gWd4ocwCRwxbxNZSSqEWz0/w424-h640/para%20poema%20%20fuera.jpg" width="424" /></a></div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><br /></div><span style="font-size: large;"><br /><span style="font-family: georgia;">Fuera<br />risas y cantos.<br /><br />Dentro<br />llanto y silencio.</span></span><div><span style="font-size: large;"><span style="font-family: georgia;"><br /></span></span></div><div><span style="font-family: georgia;"><span style="font-size: medium;">Mercedes Ridocci</span><br /></span><br /> <span style="font-family: georgia; font-size: medium;">Fotografía de <a href="https://unsplash.com/es/@stachmann">Richard Stachmann</a></span> <p class="MsoNormal" style="font-family: Calibri, sans-serif; margin: 0cm 0cm 0.0001pt;"><o:p> </o:p></p></div>Mercedes Ridoccihttp://www.blogger.com/profile/13415072870912903047noreply@blogger.com0