Mónica Sarmiento-Archer, Ph.D of Fine Art from the Complutense University in Madrid; MA in Spanish from St. John's University; Adjunct Professor at Hofstra and Adelphi University; Director of Bi/coa: Bicultural / Community of the Americas. She writes poetry and participates in various poetry festivals and recitals. Her work has been included in several anthologies: the Fundación Miguel Hernández (Orihuela 2022); Octámbulos, El Ángel Editor (Quito 2022) and Nueva Poesía y Narrativa Hispanoamericana del Siglo XXI (Madrid 2020). Her most recent book of haikus was Brota el silencio / Sprouting Sounds (2022). For her support of cultural activities in Spain in 2012, she was decorated with the Royal and Distinguished Spani.sh Order of King Carlos III. She is also a painter and sculptor; her art is included in the following collections: 2019 MET Museum; 2017 MoMA Museum; 2012 José Luis Cueva Museum; 2012 Royal House of Spain and 2007 MOLAA Museum. She is a member of the Junior Board of the Queens Council of the Arts, and the Art Students League of New York.--
Batallas
Hay heridas que te dejan sin conciencia
por el resto de una vida
hay momentos donde el sentido de la realidad
se refugian en el nublado
tormento de la desmemoria
hay duendes en el limbo que ya no sueñan
hay aves taciturnas que ya no cantan
su voz grita más se ahogan
en el sueño abandonado
donde las prisas nos desconectan
de la hiper-realidad del tiempo
donde la dimensión del espacio
espanta toda realidad.
aquí estamos (seguimos) mirándolos
sub dimensionados.
Battles
There are wounds that leave you without conscience
for the rest of your life
there are moments where the sense of reality
take refuge in the cloudy
torment of forgetfulness
there are elves in the limbo that no longer dream
there are taciturn birds that no longer sing
their voice cries out more they drown
in the abandoned dream
where the rush disconnects us
from the hyper-reality of time
where the dimension of space
frightens all reality
here we continue to look at them
undersized.
Translated by Lea Diaz
4%
En el cuerpo
23 por ciento es materia
73 energía
y un resto subconsciencia
los micro mundos
se suman en el universo
y multiplican sistemas desquiciados
en lo ilusorio del hiper-tiempo
todos somos iguales
todos estamos hurgando en un verismo
donde la materia estalla
y mengua la energía
el final es sabido
todos terminamos
en ese espacio
donde no cabe magia
y aún así
¿dónde y con quién quedará la memoria?
de ese incógnito 4 por ciento que llamamos alma.
4%
In the body
23 percent is matter
73 energy
and the remainder subconscious
the micro worlds
are added in the universe
and multiply deranged systems
in the illusion of hyper-time
we are all the same
we are all poking around in this world
where matter explodes
and energy decreases
the ending is known
we all finished
in that space
where there is no magic
and even so
where and with whom will the memory remain?
of that unknown 4 percent that we call the soul.
Translated by Seth Archer
Art móvil
Sereno posa un arlequín
mientras sus clavículas
suenan agudas click cleck cloquean
a su derecha
colgadas de un hilo
se sostiene un corazón indolente
a su izquierda
otra parte del mismo filamento
sujeta un hígado verde esmeralda
desde el centro del cordel
se balancea un coxis
independiente de todo
click clock en nota de tenor
danzan las partes
sin importar quien las mire
hacia la tierra caen dos cuerdas flexibles
fémures, tibia y peroné
saltan a su aire
en un rincón del auditorio
los payasos ignoran
al actor.
Mobile Art
Serene poses a harlequin
while his clavicles
high-pitched sound click cleck cluck
to his right
hanging by a thread
they indolent heart is sustained
to his left
another part of the same strand
holds an emerald green liver
from the center the rope
swings a coccyx
independent of everything
click clock in tenor note
each part dances
no matter who looks at them
towards the earth they fall two elastic strings
femurs, tibia and fibula
jump in their own way
in a corner of the auditorium
clowns ignore
the actor.
Translated by Lea Diaz