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MARIO J. TORRES
Between sword and sea
In the form of enchanted green
ghosts escaped from an island without forgiveness, the Cubans of today
receive the persecution of the inheritance of their destiny on a seal that
condemns them for life either with their new titles of raft men, riders,
elements, antisocial, political prisoners, exiled, gangsters, banished,
nomadic, frustrated, inadapted, disinherited; all synonyms leading to the
equivalence of unhappy or that sentences them to prejudice, despise,
contempt, discrimination or indifference from the natives of the land that
gives them shelter anywhere in the world like icebergs that freeze their
hidden and lonely souls and bury them inside the depth of the surface where
they exist so that they may watch them from there with critical plastic eyes
and smile them unreal words, turning them into no longer true beings.
This urgent complaint is no reason for a way back to the real hell by any
means and so the decision and step taken are courageously faced with dry
soul and pure conscience knowing the terrible consequences of a change of
mind and a return to the torture boiler and also the duty to be faithful to
the hostage left behind inside the punishment cage and as a result of this,
in the middle of a crowded timeless desert, the Cuban from this lost
generation tries not to get pierced with neither one of these 2 cutting
edges that corner him and which are crowned with his position as a "card" in
the whimful turn of the special kind of "push and pull" game that may be
unfolded at that given moment at the fancy of the green and frightful
haunted ghost and the indifferent yellow snow man; both acting in this
torture as intentional and involuntary executioners respectively.
As a colophon to the dilemma and with Liborio always in the middle, the
tendency to find comfort or live on the system either inside of it or out of
it, to live with fear, with forgetfulness, in full plight, constant
contradiction, rivalry or never-ending conflict without any solution swarms
around and poisons the air making penitence a little more than double.
MARIO J TORRES
JULY 2004
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