Protesting with a poetic voice, expressing dissent under cover of linguistic acrobatics, and employing rhetoric as a resource are ways to split difficult realities. Poesía de Protesta (Protest Poetry) is a collection of visual poems that gathers the voices of fifteen Hispanic women poets in collaboration with diverse visual artists. The resulting transdisciplinary artworks create a critical dialogue about the contexts from which they emerge.
Although protest may be linked to artistic activism and political art, this collection adopts a widened conception of protest in which intimate universes and individual landscapes overlap global practices — individual experiences merge to shape the collective discourse. These poems argue against prevailing ideologies and address issues such as gendered violence, exile, economic marginalization, fragmented identities, and erotic otherness.
As an anthology, Poesía de Protesta is an anti-hegemonic body in itself, a sinewed braid of female voices. Its existence opens up a fresh space for the Spanish language and takes action against the supremacy of English in mainstream contemporary art.
The revindication of the marginalized is here dynamized via collaborative, collectible digital verse. Technology expands the ethical and aesthetic possibilities of the network, invigorating the ways in which protest might be performed, expressed, and experienced. Artist collaborators transform the text, imparting new meaning and ushering in new audiences to embrace the poetic expression of protest.
Poesía de Protesta marks an important milestone for theVERSEverse, a digital poetry gallery devoted to presenting poems as fine art, whose mission is to elevate a diverse array of the world’s leading poets. The first iteration of this collection debuted at Refraction Festival in Miami in 2022 with the second edition launching this week at PROOF OF PEOPLE x REFRACTION in New York. To accompany the event, we are pleased to share a selection of works from Poesía de Protesta on Right Click Save.
¿CÓMO HACER UNA REVOLUCIÓN SIN UN CARRO?
by Martha Luisa Hernández Cadenas x Iván Cassis
Quiero romper un carro,
destruirlo como hormiguita en el mapa.
Pero yo no tengo un carro.
Quizás pueda romper el carro de mis padres,
cortarlo en muchos pedazos y comérmelo
y pensar en la indigestión
causada por esos trozos de plástico, metal y cristal
que este sospechoso carro le dará a mi corazón ideologizado.
Pero mis padres no tienen un carro.
Mis abuelos tampoco tuvieron un carro.
Necesito romper, matar, demoler este carro imaginario,
en un accidente anónimo, tal vez.
Este carro imposible.
Alguien me habla de un accidente.
Un carro mató a mucha gente en la calle.
¿Es el carro culpable de asesinato?
¿Es el carro un súper autómata asesino?
¿Es el carro una protesta estudiantil?
Tengo que poner fin a la vida de este carro invisible
Que me mira a los ojos
Que está dentro de la chapa
Que está tomando lo mejor de mí
Disparando a mi corazón de isla vacía con un solo carro
Una sola muerte
Tal vez dice «¡Heimat!»
Tal vez dice «¡Viva Cuba Libre!»
Tal vez dice
«RÓMPEME
YA NO QUIERO SER UN CARRO NUNCA MÁS».
How Do You Make a Revolution Without a Car?
by Martha Luisa Hernández Cadenas x Iván Cassis
I want to break a car,
destroy it like a tiny ant in the map,
but I don’t have a car.
Maybe I can break my parents’ car,
cut it into many pieces and eat it,
consider the indigestion
those plastic, metal and glass pieces
that this suspicious car will give to my ideologized heart.
But my parents don’t have a car.
My grandparents don’t have a car, either.
I need to break, to kill, to demolish this imaginary car,
in an anonymous accident maybe,
this impossible car.
Somebody tells me about an accident,
a car kills many people on the street.
Is the car guilty of murder?
Is the car a super killer automaton?
Is the car a student protest?
I need to put an end to the life of this invisible car
Which looks into my eyes
Which is inside the plating
Which is taking the best of me
Shooting into my empty island heart with only one car
One death
Maybe it says “Heimat!”
Maybe it says “Viva Cuba Libre”
Maybe it says
“BREAK ME
I DON’T WANT TO BE A CAR EVER AGAIN.”
Ardea Alba Egreta
by Andrea Halaby x ARTJEDI1
A mi padre
Tres balas nueve milímetros
perforan su cuerpo.
Cavan agujeros negros en los órganos
vitales.
Queman su ropa.
La sangre en el asfalto
es laguna seca.
Una garza blanca se posa
en el círculo rojo-granate.
Ardea Alba en tierra firme:
busca lombrices, insectos
pichones de otras aves,
huele la sangre
hasta encontrar alimento.
Tres disparos
el eco del plomo
orbita mis tímpanos.
No respiro.
No miro su cuerpo sobre la camilla.
No toco las manos frías.
No hablo. No camino.
La garza quieta
en silencio
vigila la presa
utiliza su pico como arpón.
Le han quitado la corbata.
Le han dejado los zapatos puestos
brillantes
negros.
Vuela con el cuello retraído
a diferencia de las cigüeñas, las grullas y las espátulas.
Ondeo una bandera blanca
a media asta
invoco a la garza
ahuyento su vuelo.
Que busque alimento
en otra acera.
*Poesía documental.
Ardea Alba Egreta, Especie. Ave, Garceta Blanca. Garza Blanca
Ardea Alba Egreta
by Andrea Halaby x ARTJEDI1
To my father
Three nine-millimeter bullets
pierce his body.
Dig black holes in his vital organs.
Burn his clothes.
The blood on the asphalt
is a dry lagoon.
A white heron perches
in the red-pomegranate circle.
Ardea Alba on the mainland:
searches for earthworms, insects,
other birds’ newborn,
smells out blood
until it finds food.
Three shots
the echo of lead
orbits inside
my ears.
I do not breathe.
I do not look at his body on the stretcher.
I do not touch his cold hands.
I do not speak. I do not walk.
The still heron
silently
watches the prey
uses its beak as a weapon.
They removed his tie.
They have left his
shiny
black
shoes.
It flies with its neck retracted
unlike storks, cranes, and spoonbills.
I wave a white flag
at half-mast
I call upon the heron.
I chase away its flight.
Let it find food
on another sidewalk.
*Documentary poetry.
Ardea Alba Egreta, Species. Bird, White Egret.
Consejo a La Hija Que Nunca Tendré
by Caridad Moro-Gronlier x Ellie Pritts
Para Rafaela
Olvida el color rosado. En cambio, envuélvete en tonos
enjoyados—esmeralda, turquesa, zafiro, amatista.
Habla al ritmo de tu pulso—en samba, en conga
en danzón, el ultimo bolero de la noche.
Maneja una lengua afilada, un tacón de aguja, una navaja
de muelle, un látigo en el pelo, un dedo sin gatillo.
Toma cada paso con pies de plomo, pasa por encima de los
satélites que caen del cielo, los obstáculos de tus fracasos.
Con el tiempo, lo prestado cuesta más que lo nuevo—
guarda tus centavos; camina en tus propios zapatos.
Advice to a Daughter I Will Never Have
by Caridad Moro-Gronlier x Ellie Pritts
For Rafaela
Forget pink. Drape yourself in jeweled tones—
emerald, amethyst, the black depth of onyx.
Speak in rhythm with your pulse, en samba, en conga,
en danzón, the last slow dance of the night.
Wield a sharp tongue, a stiletto heel, a switchblade
in your boot, a whip in your hair, a trigger-less finger.
Seek out fields of flowers that perfume the air
lavender, gardenia, mock orange. Follow your nose.
Step lightly, step up, step over the satellites that fall from space,
the hurdles of your mistakes. Step into your own shoes.
El mal concreto
by Amalia Moreno x Genki Nishida
El mal empieza
en el mal concreto
en el mal principio
en los malos materiales
en el cemento malo
en la línea mal trazada
en las malas paredes
corroídas de corrupción
se levanta mal el techo
se levantan mal los hijos
duermen mal comen mal
sirven mal la mesa
mala leche mal de estómago
desarrollo malo padres malos
mala confianza mal civil
mala persona malo el juicio
malo el juez mal bandido mal honrado
mal disfrazado mal desenmascarado
el policía malo el obrero malo
el electricista malo el transformador malo
el sistema malo la luz mala
el mal de ojo mal de intención
el mal de adentro
el mal del alma
mal de instinto
mal amigo
malo con el perro
malo con la vida
el mal principio
el mal concreto.
Concrete Bad
by Amalia Moreno x Genki Nishida
Bad begins
with concrete bad
a bad start
with bad materials
bad cement
a badly traced line
bad walls
corroded by corruption
a roof badly raised
children badly raised
they sleep badly eat badly
they set the table bad
bad milk bad stomach
bad development bad parents
bad trust civic bad
bad person bad judgment
bad judge bad criminal the honorable bad
bad disguised bad unmasked
bad cop bad worker
bad electrician bad transformer
bad system bad light
bad eye intentionally bad
the bad inside
the bad soul
bad instinct
bad friend
bad with the dog
bad with life
bad start
concrete bad.
Fácil
by Legna Rodríguez Iglesias x Veštica
A una mujer tú la tocas
y ella tiembla
la escupes y ella sale
empapada en saliva
a una mujer tú la puedes
destruir
¿cómo la destruyes?
fácil
la tocas
y la escupes
la tocas
y la escupes
la tocas
y la escupes
entre una cosa y otra
le dices que de pronto
has empezado a quererla
que simplemente
la quieres
y ya
por último la tocas
y la escupes.
Easy
by Legna Rodríguez Iglesias x Veštica
You touch a woman
and she trembles
you spit her out and she comes out
covered in saliva
you can destroy
a woman
how do you destroy her?
easy
touch her
spit her out
touch her
spit her out
between one thing and another
tell her that all of a sudden
you have begun to love her
that simply
you just love her
and that's it
finally touch her
and spit her out.
Poesía de Protesta is supported by the generosity of the Tezos Foundation, a Refraction Creative Grant, the Broward Cultural Division, and MAD Arts. Works from the collection may be purchased from Objkt.com.
Ana Maria Caballero is a first-generation Colombian-American poet and artist whose work explores how biology delimits societal and cultural rites, ripping the veil off romanticized motherhood and questioning notions that package sacrifice as a virtue. She is the recipient of the International Beverly Prize, Colombia’s José Manuel Arango National Poetry Prize, the Steel Toe Books Poetry Award, and a Sevens Foundation Grant. Her Pushcart Prize and Best of the Net-nominated work has been sold at live auction, widely published, and exhibited internationally at venues such as bitforms, New York; JustMAD, Madrid; Gazelli Art House, London; and L’Avant Galerie Vossen, Paris. An author of five books and recognized as a Web3 poetry pioneer, she is also one of the founders of digital poetry gallery, theVERSEverse.
Gladys Garrote is a curator, art writer, and art historian. Since 2014, she has been a professor at the University of Havana, where she teaches courses on Art History, Art Appreciation, and the Contemporary Art Market. Garrote’s essays and critical texts often tackle questions surrounding feminism, collective identities, cultural memory, the rewriting of history, and self-reflection. She is the co-founder of ClitSplash, an all-female curatorial collective.
Elisabeth Sweet explores the convergence of poetry and meditation. Her series-based practice questions the patterns of life and death as mediums of change. Elisabeth enlists different modes of creative expression to expand her practice, including JavaScript code and poetry performance. She also supports the community efforts of theVERSEverse through social media management, exhibition production, and facilitating conversations between Web3 artists, curators, and thought leaders, as well as the general public. She has produced and supported the coordination of poetry exhibitions and presentations in New York and Miami in coordination with Refraction DAO, MAD Arts, and NFT Biennial.
