Poetry

5 Transmutation Poems by Isaac Álvarez Félix

This poetry collection defines itself as a visceral and direct journey inspired by the raw inheritance of the Beat Generation. The book explores the shadows of anxiety, origins, and family breakdown as forces of change for shedding skin and identity.

At Zenda we reproduce five poems from Transmutación (Maclein y Parker), by Isaac Álvarez Félix.

***

Artifacts that Explode

 

the misery of the eternal

and the thermometer

gnawed mercury, struck down

toilet poems

portraits of my father

the intangibility of waiting

the color of peas, the moon

by day the cluster bombs

the chips and the gift colonies

 

artifacts that explode when embraced

 

swirls of plasteline, veils

windowsless, garden furniture

fairs’ werewolves

wandering

that roar along the roads

pinatas

cotton

candles made of wax verses

stews without mornings and honey bowls

 

artifacts that explode when embraced

 

your body by night

my hands of a child

drunk

tentacle oracle

the impossible waiting

paths of oil scorched by the sun

the rage

the gluttony

the envy

grasshoppers with bone-olive crutches

black

very black

 

artifacts that explode when embraced

 

my blood your sap, time

that dies between two birds, the nests

on balconies the pinecones the rats

the steam of ships that no longer sail

the pyramids the livers the butterflies

the corpses that spring from the pillow

the children the house the pool

the sound of rain on the glass

 

perhaps the problem is the origin perhaps

my body is the culprit perhaps everything

it’s chemistry nuclei atoms protons

that flee that transmute that spill

into the void of my existence and everything

what I want all I love all I attempt

explodes before that inescapable truth

that no one dares confess to me

***

Gold to Lead

 

before the stone father I am green

I advance into his disappointment

I discover his fear

I receive the disheartenment

and I become stone

 

before

before the stone father I lay ships

I fire bullets, I sculpt poses

as a villain, a mute frog, a gentle winter

and I become

stone in front of the stone father

 

before the father

of stone I am a crystal boy, a case

an incongruous mass of unfulfilled desires

a folly

someone who does not grow

I am stone

 

I am stone in front of the stone father

a huge stone wrapped in mud

that cracks with the croak of vultures

a stone

huge and solitary, invisible

to the human eye

invisible to the eye

before the stone father I am stone

***

And the Word Was Made Flesh and Dwelt Among Us

 

I die

 

they care for me, wash me, clothe me

they dress me, tuck me in

they adorn me, wrap me up

they guide me, kissing me, pushing

they throw me, watch me

surveilled, crying for me

suffering me, they question me, me

they ask, they do not understand me

skewered, they expel me, forget me

they erase me, I go, erase me (erase me)

 

I transmute

 

I root, I bind, I entangle

I grease myself, I hurl myself

I script a spell; I silver myself

I equip myself, reveling, I sea-swell

I color myself, I peacock myself

unraveled, I jolt around

glucosify myself, I cheat myself

I sharpen myself, I do not waver

I anchor myself, I harden, I hammer

they erase me, I go, want me (want me)

 

I illuminate

***

Pure Anxiety

 

to have at the bottom

of the bottom a chasm, a button

of panic, ready and bright

on the verge

of blowing everything skyward

 

at any moment, for example now

 

to bear the tremor

as sharp as a crystal, the dream

the liquid of a bear, a cat

dissected in the living room

all that premise of being

a blind forest, a futile challenge

a barefoot centipede

a tear

in the corduroy pants a river

full of corpses and wooden fish

 

to have hunger out of time

the light of a cave and the creases of chambers

in the pockets drink from the hollow

of their hands seek poems

that approach my way of crying

to all that we dance to their eyes

and to the flowers

 

to thirst for puddles, to crave

to do anything other than die

 

and do it now

***

First Law of Thermodynamics

 

there exists an image-world, a mirror world

isomeric beneath the skin

that betrays every misstep

every listening, every response, everything

all that was never spoken, a landfill

of filth shining as pure reality

 

I look at myself and discover the crystal

soft, static; my fingers

upon fingers that do not belong to me

the gaze of another, the color-shade, the lagoon

poisoned with groves

I dissociate

in the vertigo of waiting

I grow impatient

to uncover the ultimate, inescapable ending

that would rot everything

that arrives riding a cart

with wings of fire and a donkey for a steed

I launch myself

into the abyss of the most catastrophic truth

 

my energy neither creates nor destroys

my body neither creates nor destroys

my essence neither creates nor destroys

my blood my chest my fear my madness

neither are created nor destroyed

 

nor do they transform

 

I simply transmute

—————————————

Author: Isaac Álvarez Félix. Title: Transmutation. Publisher: Maclein y Parker. Sales: All Your Books.

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