Pettiness in three
A few days ago I wrote a post in anger. Later, I decided to delete it. Why? Because it was angry and petty and I wasn’t being fair to whoever this person is. However, if you would like to indulge my pettiness and jealous nature, I have included three petty poems below ;)
The post was about the telepathic connection I have been experiencing with someone who I believe is my person and a poem I recently wrote about it.
You see, some days this connection drives me crazy and makes me believe I am slowly going insane. Especially now when I know there’s another person involved. And yes, I am a jealous person. I just blame it on being an anxious-avoidant Virgo.
My connection with my person has been two-fold. There’s a connection I feel with the current (present moment) version of him. And there’s another connection I feel with a version of him that feels like he’s soul traveling back to the past to be with me in the interim.
How do I know it’s a future version of him? Because he talks to me about things that haven’t happened yet or I think are only just starting to happen now.
So, what set off my jealousy?
Late last year, future him told me not to pay attention to what I am about to see. That he was dating again to try and find me. That he was going to debut a partner and this was going to show him how to debut me.
Then I started to feel the presence of another man when I was connecting with current him.
And then, current him called me by that other man’s name. On more than one occasion.
A few days ago, I had a feeling of dread in the pit of my stomach that I was going to hear that other man’s name again. I couldn’t sleep and acted out of anxious jealousy.
I don’t want to be called by his name. Not with what future him has told me about this partner. He’s told me that things get bad with this partner. That this person betrays him. That this person almost ends his career. And there’s something else he’s told me that’s too deplorable to put into words.
So, every time he confuses my soul for his, I get upset. I hope, dear reader, that you can understand why.
Who is he? Who is my soul connection?
I honestly don’t know for sure. If I did, I wouldn’t have to look or send out letters in a bottle in an algorithm trying to find him. I have gotten names before. The first one I got during prayer and I don’t think it was my person’s name all. I think that name was supposed to lead me to something that ended up saving my life. Two of the names are or I believe they are his partners (one ex and one current).
There is one name that might be his, or at least he says that’s who he is. I seriously doubt it though. And not just because if that is who he is, that’s insane! But there’s another reason. I don’t think this person could ever see the man I am, no matter how far I go in transition. I could be wrong, but for now, and for me at least, that’s a dead end.
Ultimately, I wish I could be as oblivious to this connection as the current version of him seems to be. I wish I could close the bond and focus on the woman I was flirting with at a party last week. Well...if I see her again because like a true bisexual I don’t really know how to flirt with women and I was too shy to ask for her number.
For those willing to indulge my pettiness…
None of these poems have titles…yet. As usual, I will provide rather rough preliminary translations below that focus more on conveying the general meaning rather than being literal.
This first one was the one from the original post. And yes, there is a Lorca reference.
Text within this block will maintain its original spacing when publishedMorado, no te quiero morado
con el rostro azulado
morado y triste
no te quiero así
Dile a ese hombre
que cuando me gritas su nombre
no me convertiré en su tocayo
cuando él te manipula con un “Camina bajo el sol”
y yo te mando con un “Sí, mi señor”
porque lo buscas a él para coger y follar
pero entraré a tu vida cuando lo que busques sea amar.
Dile a ese falso
que amar en nombre
y amar solamente el nombre
es robarle las flechas de sus plumas
Morado, mi señor enamorado,
amar al narcisista
es enamorarse de bombas
pero él que firma bombas
no puede firmar tu corazón
And now for the English translation…
Text within this block will maintain its original spacing when publishedPurple, I don’t want you purple
with a bluish countenance
purple and melancholy
that’s not how I want you
Tell that man
that when you scream his name
I won’t become his name twin
for he manipulates you with a “You deserve sunshine”
and I command you with a “Yes, my lord” --
you seek him out to fuck
but I find you when what you seek is loving.
Tell that faker
that loving the name
and loving only the name
is to rob the arrows of their feathers
Purple, my enamored mister,
to love the narcissist
is to love the bombs
but he who signs the bombs
cannot sign your heart.
Ok, so it sounds lame in English, but I promise you it sounds better in Spanish.
The next one comes more out of my sadness than pettiness, but I wrote it a few nights ago when I couldn’t sleep and I was being petty. So that counts.
Text within this block will maintain its original spacing when publishedCuéntame
Cómo se cierra el corazón
tan fácil como se cierran las orejas
Apágamelo
ya no quiero escucharte más
Enséñame
a guardarlo
donde te encuentras la arrogancia
de darme un tocayo
que no te pedí
Y allá
me puedes enterrar
mientras sea él
el sacerdote que lidera mi fúnebre
English Translation
Text within this block will maintain its original spacing when publishedTell me
how to close the heart
as easily as the ears.
Turn it off.
I don’t want to hear you anymore.
Teach me
to put it away
where you find the audacity
to give me a name twin
that I didn’t ask of you
And there
you can bury me
as he becomes the priest
who conducts my funeral.
That last part I edited a bit to fit better in English.
This last one is a bit more challenging to translate. In Spanish, there are many different ways you can tell someone to “go to hell”, “go f--- off”, and lots of other lovely things people say when we’re upset. This poem plays on those expressions. But, I shall do my best to offer a comprehensible English version…And yes, I had to switch the position of some expressions to make it fit better/be more comprehensible in English.
Text within this block will maintain its original spacing when publishedEl amor verdadero es
sé que te amo
pero a veces quiero pedirte
que te vayas a la chingada
pero el nombre que gritas cuando estás conmigo
tiene más opciones
puede irse:
al diablo
al infierno
a la verga
o a la fregada
pero nunca a la chingada
porque allá estás conmigo
English Version
Text within this block will maintain its original spacing when publishedTrue love is
I know that I love you
but sometimes I want to ask you
to go to Hell.
But the name that you scream when you’re with me
has more options.
He can go:
-to the devil
-f*** himself
-fly a kite
- or f*** off
but never to Hell
because there you’re with me.
Thanks for reading The Rantings of a Wolf Bird! This post is public so feel free to share it.
