tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-48909107052553884562024-03-06T20:06:46.552+01:00FiccionarioLaboratorio de minificcionesJavier Lópezhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/06428492632126924614noreply@blogger.comBlogger1099125tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-4890910705255388456.post-15271114398451748812011-08-31T18:59:00.011+02:002024-01-31T23:54:42.111+01:00Tres tuits no tan tristes - Nanim Rekacz<div><br />
</div><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjqAdZEi9NNuS_DklNA81uqvkozUMGK5E9rlr0EbKUmuBpJODz2JLDKm5ZaP19So4XInjkwcO9FOWK1H_0ATY0MQJt9Nu_zphJZGINFoHQxgB4F9rfjS5gu8ZJXhvzbAzdKZeJkImAAX5k/s1600/100_7894.JPG"><img alt="" border="0" height="240" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5647067445045852226" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjqAdZEi9NNuS_DklNA81uqvkozUMGK5E9rlr0EbKUmuBpJODz2JLDKm5ZaP19So4XInjkwcO9FOWK1H_0ATY0MQJt9Nu_zphJZGINFoHQxgB4F9rfjS5gu8ZJXhvzbAzdKZeJkImAAX5k/s320/100_7894.JPG" style="display: block; height: 240px; margin: 0px auto 10px; text-align: center; width: 320px;" width="320" /></a><br />
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CURIOSIDAD DIVINA <br />
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La máquina estaba ahí, con su redondo y brillante botón. El dedo de dios hizo lo que no debía hacer: lo oprimió. <br />
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<br />
ADICCIONES INZOOPORTABLES <br />
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—Puedo soportar que traigas el trabajo a casa, pero a la cama ¡no! —le dijo la esposa al dueño del zoológico. <br />
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<br />
CONFESION <br />
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Yo soy lectora. Las palabras que escribo son un espejo. </div><div><p align="right" class="MsoNormal" style="text-align: right;"><br /></p></div><div><br /></div><div><br /></div><div><p align="right" class="MsoNormal" style="text-align: right;"><br /></p></div><div><br />
</div>Nanim Rekaczhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/04203293575420885456noreply@blogger.com3tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-4890910705255388456.post-7171242750292092822011-08-09T16:13:00.010+02:002011-08-10T00:59:55.133+02:00Agua<div style="color: white; text-align: center;">.</div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEi-npMXmmT81oeqKSHzSPU2jVfdLAUA1LsCNRRNlW4FvknBP6iXuELv2GVmqdkafrLIm6s7ZqB_WysqHv3VGTJmTmt64QqI9srrhNU_-hZhP1fF4ANAukKp7cVa8uJfLItUe1B01DxsCUBk/s1600/agua.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 0em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" height="213" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEi-npMXmmT81oeqKSHzSPU2jVfdLAUA1LsCNRRNlW4FvknBP6iXuELv2GVmqdkafrLIm6s7ZqB_WysqHv3VGTJmTmt64QqI9srrhNU_-hZhP1fF4ANAukKp7cVa8uJfLItUe1B01DxsCUBk/s400/agua.jpg" width="320" /></a></div><br />
<br />
Fractal de universos, desde una gota al océano. <br />
Sin color, los crea todos. <br />
Sin sabor, ¡qué bien sabe en un día de calor! <br />
Sin olor, cuando es mar, huele a vida. <br />
Refleja, pero no se ve si se mira en un espejo. Lola C.http://www.blogger.com/profile/10874772942198745268noreply@blogger.com1tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-4890910705255388456.post-701418263403956042011-07-27T01:03:00.005+02:002011-07-30T19:37:05.795+02:00The Mountain<div style="color: white; text-align: center;">.</div><iframe frameborder="0" height="225" src="http://player.vimeo.com/video/22439234" width="400"></iframe><br />
<a href="http://vimeo.com/22439234">The Mountain</a> from <a href="http://vimeo.com/terjes">TSO Photography</a> on <a href="http://vimeo.com/">Vimeo</a>.<br />
<br />
<br />
Nada está fijo.<br />
Rutilantes estrellas<br />
nos miran mirar<br />
<br />
(a los viejos amigos de Ficcionario)Manuelhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/17959885768733342601noreply@blogger.com5tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-4890910705255388456.post-46190896264929182372011-07-06T01:55:00.004+02:002011-07-30T19:37:38.011+02:00Máquinas<div style="color: white; text-align: center;">.</div><a href="http://fotomilk.com/imagftp/SCC464M-cosechadora_dsc4703.jpg" onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}"><img alt="" border="0" src="http://fotomilk.com/imagftp/SCC464M-cosechadora_dsc4703.jpg" style="cursor: pointer; display: block; height: 243px; margin: 0px auto 10px; text-align: center; width: 366px;" /></a><br />
<blockquote>Sorda cadencia<br />
que arrastran las máquinas<br />
al mediodía</blockquote>Manuelhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/17959885768733342601noreply@blogger.com2tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-4890910705255388456.post-83257538667473878472011-07-02T17:32:00.001+02:002011-08-31T19:17:01.725+02:00Cenizas 5<div>
<br /></div><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEj8WGvFSq13nt84MvmuzQITd4CbbY2pBf1uCp-AeQbJ6aFknCIc-lAkQbWu0YsHYRYi2nrtDvpQgeqr-4xtJFP-8J_XIg0N2L-6mljBpUIWkhM0s07pE5q1BP8uMj-AAL1jOoOtWETlKRo/s1600/100_6363.JPG" onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}"><img style="display:block; margin:0px auto 10px; text-align:center;cursor:pointer; cursor:hand;width: 200px; height: 150px;" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEj8WGvFSq13nt84MvmuzQITd4CbbY2pBf1uCp-AeQbJ6aFknCIc-lAkQbWu0YsHYRYi2nrtDvpQgeqr-4xtJFP-8J_XIg0N2L-6mljBpUIWkhM0s07pE5q1BP8uMj-AAL1jOoOtWETlKRo/s200/100_6363.JPG" border="0" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5647070267098117954" /></a>
<br /><span style="font-style:italic;">Despoblándome</span>
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<br />Me retiro a meditar. Volveré y seré una sola.<div>
<br /></div>Nanim Rekaczhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/04203293575420885456noreply@blogger.com6tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-4890910705255388456.post-8655813426721858192011-06-30T17:31:00.001+02:002011-08-31T19:19:06.589+02:00Cenizas 4<div>
<br /></div><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjIkHOtYFDxCNwTYB8jH1fdfMzOh9-Xn1fOkvd9LaYev5S4rNkmhotjSpTcBYeK2Sf_sZ5YJ-VGEuQBB7LSGrG7XAL0XNuxc56RCP-5SDFnwWGSjbaJEuUh6Yi8IDJQq-F5qR6K2ZB775g/s1600/100E6401.JPG" onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}"><img style="display:block; margin:0px auto 10px; text-align:center;cursor:pointer; cursor:hand;width: 200px; height: 150px;" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjIkHOtYFDxCNwTYB8jH1fdfMzOh9-Xn1fOkvd9LaYev5S4rNkmhotjSpTcBYeK2Sf_sZ5YJ-VGEuQBB7LSGrG7XAL0XNuxc56RCP-5SDFnwWGSjbaJEuUh6Yi8IDJQq-F5qR6K2ZB775g/s200/100E6401.JPG" border="0" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5647070809889484914" /></a><span><div><span>
<br /></span></div><i>Ultima voluntad</i></span>
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<br />El día que yo muera, cuenten que tenía sentido del humor y sinsentido del amor…<div>
<br /></div>Nanim Rekaczhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/04203293575420885456noreply@blogger.com2tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-4890910705255388456.post-77671659957725169262011-06-28T17:30:00.001+02:002011-08-31T19:24:06.295+02:00Cenizas 3<div>
<br /></div><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEj-HYW-Qb3e1vV2mOuKZ-ce91y_OsCpPnnhsYiADXsiREKr7SRoW6u13CuxpBFWPSizBXqITYbVFnApCeXyXtWog-1Lh5TKxM72vh3O8GT8ijq_ixcN_7zUKJiTiWGaw5iSp_51PfivnJQ/s1600/Museo5_Rekacz.JPG" onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}"><img style="display:block; margin:0px auto 10px; text-align:center;cursor:pointer; cursor:hand;width: 200px; height: 150px;" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEj-HYW-Qb3e1vV2mOuKZ-ce91y_OsCpPnnhsYiADXsiREKr7SRoW6u13CuxpBFWPSizBXqITYbVFnApCeXyXtWog-1Lh5TKxM72vh3O8GT8ijq_ixcN_7zUKJiTiWGaw5iSp_51PfivnJQ/s200/Museo5_Rekacz.JPG" border="0" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5647071888394594738" /></a>
<br /><span style="font-style:italic;">De madres y otros demonios</span>
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<br />Silencio absoluto. Mis niñas duermen. Puedo jugar...<div>
<br /></div>Nanim Rekaczhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/04203293575420885456noreply@blogger.com6tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-4890910705255388456.post-78431243288060438062011-06-27T01:54:00.003+02:002011-06-27T14:38:35.143+02:00SilenciosMe ahoga el silencio.<br />Por favor, no le maten<br />que cante el grillo.Manuelhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/17959885768733342601noreply@blogger.com6tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-4890910705255388456.post-34025675022066062922011-06-26T17:29:00.001+02:002011-08-31T19:26:39.454+02:00Cenizas 2<div>
<br /></div><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEg2avA0Ue8UvMvPGllzJ3mWkgrQQxArlP9EaoqQIqnrsEG3ENt77EQvHQh1cjZrvPWAY4clYvuMUlN9WvNBl3HxXj1zoyRz6zQgP9NkyAAdLdQysJDs3xNhLc_Sm5C8tFvDiCJZvF-rBRQ/s1600/100_4660.JPG" onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}"><img style="display:block; margin:0px auto 10px; text-align:center;cursor:pointer; cursor:hand;width: 150px; height: 200px;" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEg2avA0Ue8UvMvPGllzJ3mWkgrQQxArlP9EaoqQIqnrsEG3ENt77EQvHQh1cjZrvPWAY4clYvuMUlN9WvNBl3HxXj1zoyRz6zQgP9NkyAAdLdQysJDs3xNhLc_Sm5C8tFvDiCJZvF-rBRQ/s200/100_4660.JPG" border="0" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5647072745625138866" /></a>
<br /><span style="font-style:italic;">Hogar</span>
<br />
<br />Hay viajes que terminan en el principio. Los llamamos regresos.<div>
<br /></div>Nanim Rekaczhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/04203293575420885456noreply@blogger.com2tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-4890910705255388456.post-12677991244022247342011-06-24T17:23:00.004+02:002011-08-31T19:31:22.592+02:00Cenizas 1<div>
<br /></div><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgBz3lNvUrDl2xpCe52-fh_4tNc6l6WQgofrayJAssFdqdTFHGMOKoc-nEZSca_PWxkdQmfEU8lU21HkDuoGPBgtaE0J-pcDgkrXf4DPH8gzafGj66QlJKMHGOaVcd3wS3sPZna2edoFXs/s1600/100_8130.JPG" onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}"><img style="display:block; margin:0px auto 10px; text-align:center;cursor:pointer; cursor:hand;width: 150px; height: 200px;" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgBz3lNvUrDl2xpCe52-fh_4tNc6l6WQgofrayJAssFdqdTFHGMOKoc-nEZSca_PWxkdQmfEU8lU21HkDuoGPBgtaE0J-pcDgkrXf4DPH8gzafGj66QlJKMHGOaVcd3wS3sPZna2edoFXs/s200/100_8130.JPG" border="0" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5647073922665691810" /></a>
<br /><span style="font-style:italic;">Prisa </span>
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<br />El cielo no me quiere esperar.<div>
<br /></div>Nanim Rekaczhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/04203293575420885456noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-4890910705255388456.post-904177572837064592011-06-18T12:00:00.000+02:002011-06-18T12:00:07.722+02:00VentajaHan saltado todos, les doy ventaja: Paracaídas como flores van abriéndose uno a uno. Ahora salto yo, que sin corola pronto les dejaré atrás.Ikal Bamoahttp://www.blogger.com/profile/07227822870326482388noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-4890910705255388456.post-13255323115168095222011-06-16T12:00:00.000+02:002011-06-16T12:00:12.026+02:00Dulce hogar<span style="font-style: italic;">«¿Nostalgia? Ya te adaptarás al Sahara. Mientras, que Londres venga a ti: Toma.»</span> Me fui. Abrió el paraguas y un aguacero arruinó su vestido.Ikal Bamoahttp://www.blogger.com/profile/07227822870326482388noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-4890910705255388456.post-75984082182971857982011-06-14T12:00:00.001+02:002011-06-14T12:00:11.003+02:00Umbrae 9Hace años maté a su sombra y la reemplacé: Sigo a Elena de día y la hago mía cada noche. Así que no alucina, doctor. Déjela en paz.Ikal Bamoahttp://www.blogger.com/profile/07227822870326482388noreply@blogger.com1tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-4890910705255388456.post-10234400295534161272011-06-11T12:00:00.003+02:002011-06-11T12:00:02.754+02:00Anhelo¡Décadas irguiéndome y acabar de pronto así! Comienzo a perder el equilibrio. Si al menos pudiera caer sobre un par de leñadores...Ikal Bamoahttp://www.blogger.com/profile/07227822870326482388noreply@blogger.com4tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-4890910705255388456.post-19784373354169863462011-06-10T17:16:00.000+02:002011-06-10T17:16:33.941+02:00AdornosSe puso flores en la cabeza. Pensamientos.Unknownnoreply@blogger.com4tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-4890910705255388456.post-88954104408900979782011-06-09T12:00:00.001+02:002011-06-09T12:00:00.437+02:00AuténticoTras la caída del régimen, el verdugo fue llevado a juicio para responder por sus actos. <span style="font-style: italic;">«Yo nada sé de política; maté por vocación.»</span>Ikal Bamoahttp://www.blogger.com/profile/07227822870326482388noreply@blogger.com1tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-4890910705255388456.post-61172220039422153342011-06-09T00:16:00.000+02:002011-06-09T00:16:21.896+02:00El abrazoMe rodeas con tus brazos y te rodeo con los míos. Estamos rodeados.Javier Lópezhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/06428492632126924614noreply@blogger.com6tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-4890910705255388456.post-46142921971910124672011-06-09T00:15:00.000+02:002011-06-09T00:15:11.322+02:00Hablando de fábulas...Cuentan que Esopo pensó invertir en especias lo que ganara con su <i>Fábula de la lechera</i>, y hacerse rico con los beneficios de la venta.Javier Lópezhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/06428492632126924614noreply@blogger.com1tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-4890910705255388456.post-65016948771858217882011-06-08T19:32:00.000+02:002011-06-08T19:35:45.115+02:00Puro cuentoÉrase una vez unas moralejas confabuladas.Unknownnoreply@blogger.com4tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-4890910705255388456.post-9711674123703930622011-06-07T23:29:00.004+02:002011-06-08T15:10:20.860+02:00Conjugando el verbo amar<hr color="white" /><a href="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/-JOhgSHzPBOc/Te6YtywVgGI/AAAAAAAABEc/mZM51byloAw/s1600/libro%2Bcorazon.jpg" onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}"><img alt="" border="0" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5615593697863630946" src="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/-JOhgSHzPBOc/Te6YtywVgGI/AAAAAAAABEc/mZM51byloAw/s320/libro%2Bcorazon.jpg" style="cursor: pointer; display: block; height: 242px; margin: 0px auto 10px; text-align: center; width: 280px;" /></a><br />
Cuando pasaron de las palabras a los hechos, conjugaron el presente de amar con un futuro perfecto.Lola C.http://www.blogger.com/profile/10874772942198745268noreply@blogger.com5tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-4890910705255388456.post-4560575727408603862011-06-07T21:44:00.002+02:002011-06-07T21:44:38.693+02:00Con-textual—Esto será una metaficción —afirmó el escritor.<br />
—¿Y eso qué es? —preguntó su personaje, ocultándose avergonzado tras una interrogación.Javier Lópezhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/06428492632126924614noreply@blogger.com4tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-4890910705255388456.post-58353733858215260772011-06-07T12:00:00.001+02:002011-06-07T12:00:11.151+02:00Homo Sapiens VVolví a la Tierra a visitar a las crías de mis crías. En su lugar, unos raros primates sin pelo me recibieron a golpes.Ikal Bamoahttp://www.blogger.com/profile/07227822870326482388noreply@blogger.com4tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-4890910705255388456.post-39307348222526432822011-06-06T02:06:00.007+02:002011-06-06T02:17:36.392+02:00Entrar<div style="text-align: center;"><a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://josemiguelillo.files.wordpress.com/2009/09/laberinto-de-puertas.jpg?w=540&h=405"><img style="display: block; margin: 0px auto 10px; text-align: center; cursor: pointer; width: 378px; height: 259px;" src="http://josemiguelillo.files.wordpress.com/2009/09/laberinto-de-puertas.jpg?w=540&h=405" alt="" border="0" /></a><span style="font-size:85%;">Imagen vía <a style="font-style: italic;" href="http://planocreativo.wordpress.com/2010/04/19/la-mente-es-una-casa-con-un-millon-de-puertas/">Plano Creativo</a></span><br /><span style="font-size:85%;"><a style="font-style: italic;" href="http://planocreativo.wordpress.com/2010/04/19/la-mente-es-una-casa-con-un-millon-de-puertas/" target="_blank"></a></span><br /></div>He cambiado todas las puertas de mi casa. Y ni por esas consigo entrar en razón.Manuelhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/17959885768733342601noreply@blogger.com6tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-4890910705255388456.post-24800165603252067792011-06-04T12:00:00.001+02:002011-06-05T03:59:36.937+02:00Domicilio conocidoLa casa del mago resultaba inconfundible por los conejos de humo que salían de la chimenea.Ikal Bamoahttp://www.blogger.com/profile/07227822870326482388noreply@blogger.com4tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-4890910705255388456.post-86167724652378594942011-06-01T23:07:00.003+02:002011-06-08T00:06:14.674+02:00Luna<a href="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/-4mmVGDnOhMg/TeasdmZw29I/AAAAAAAABEM/-QWqC_CSAXY/s1600/noche.jpg" onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}"><img alt="" border="0" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5613363610088692690" src="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/-4mmVGDnOhMg/TeasdmZw29I/AAAAAAAABEM/-QWqC_CSAXY/s320/noche.jpg" style="cursor: pointer; display: block; height: 240px; margin: 0px auto 10px; text-align: center; width: 320px;" /></a><br />La Luna siempre viste de noche.Lola C.http://www.blogger.com/profile/10874772942198745268noreply@blogger.com4