Being of waters.
I am of waters
I carry salted waters,
I float in the inner clouds.
I spill broken words,
into that torn throat,
from so much pouring
waters.
Inner waters,
in that sea, in those rivers,
which are life, within the veins,
in that dreaming body,
being of waters.
To be liquid,
in a solid body,
in an evanescent soul.
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Ser de aguas
Soy de aguas,
llevo aguas saladas,
floto en las nubes interiores.
Derramo palabras quebradas,
en esa garganta rota,
de tanto manar
aguas.
Aguas interiores,
en ese mar, en esos ríos,
que es la vida, dentro de las venas,
en ese cuerpo soñador,
ser de aguas.
Ser líquido,
en un cuerpo sólido,
en un alma evanescente.
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Author:
Carlos Alberto BUSTILLOS (
Offline) - Published: October 1st, 2026 08:07
- Category: Unclassified
- Views: 10
- Users favorite of this poem: sorenbarrett, Tristan Robert Lange, Jamiano
Offline)
Comments4
Me gustó mucho tu poema. Hay algo muy orgánico en la manera en que haces del agua una forma de ser, no simplemente una imagen. “Soy de aguas” me parece una hermosa declaración de identidad.
One of the recurring themes in my poetic words is the idea of veins as rivers running through the body…
after all, we are mostly water, and we cry water and salt, like a miniature sea we carry inside us…
with its waves, its tides…
Thank you so much for looking through the window of my poems, in this diary made of my verses.
Carlos, where are you from? I'm in Puerto Rico.
I now live in Madrid, Spain, but I was born in Neuchâtel, Switzerland, a place that still remains part of me.
A lovely write Carlos we are waters come from waters and made of water it is the essence of life. Nicely written my friend
A beautiful reflection, thank you.
Yes — we come from waters, we are shaped by waters, and we carry that quiet sea inside us…
its currents, its tides, its small storms and its calm.
I’m glad the poem resonated with you.
Your words feel like another ripple in that inner ocean.
It is my pleasure Carlos
Carlos, I really liked the way this moved. Water, blood, voice, soul...it all felt connected without becoming overworked. 🌹🖤🙏🕯️🐦⬛
The human body is made of seawater, and could there be any liquid more like a river, where our blood flows through the veins, apart from the lymphatic system? My poetry is extravagant and exaggerated; my life is tremendously vast in its smallness. With each passing day, I become exaggeratedly larger, yet life carries us along paths we never would have imagined. Thank you for your comment.
Beautiful poem of water imagery. I travel, in dreams or in life, alongside water. Hopefully, my next home destination, will allow me to daily walk along the shore.
hank you very much for rocking gently in those electric words, drifting through the clouds of the internet until they become poems
The movement of water upon the earth and above the earth guides the senses.
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