It Came to Me In a Dream

It came to me in a dream:
a poem about poetry is not poetry
the words we use are never ours
it cannot rhyme, 'cause times have changed
the flow is out of joint, as is our world
no periods, no accents, except the one we speak with
we write in tongues we were not born with
it came to me in a dream I no longer remember
only the voice of a friend asking where I was
and we write like kittens licking a blank page on a typewriter
our language sandpaper grinding against whiteness
nuestra lengua es otra y es rasposa (I'd like to say)
today of all days when waking up is harder
we are out of sync; constantly logged out 
from the rhythm of everyday things
it's not a butterfly in Japan but another bomb in the Ukraine
it came to me in a dream 
our diaries a collection of obituaries 
y nuestras voces los ecos y la memoria del pasado
stop time for once and try to voice it 

My passion is creating opportunities for discovery, creativity and innovation. I am an advocate for enhanced access to information as a public good. I enjoy fostering engagement and openness, facilitating collaboration and mentoring. My main focus is multi-disciplinary and involves practically and theoretically connecting the dots between varied, closely-related fields and topics: comics studies; human-computer interaction design, library and information science, digital humanities, scholarly communications, publishing studies, digital innovation and material culture, intellectual rights and open science, access, data and educational resources. I love writing and spreading the word about the things I believe in. I love higher education and the Internet and I define myself as a digital scholarship advocate. I love working collaboratively and on my own. You can still follow me and/or contact me via Twitter @ernestopriego. View all posts by Ernesto Priego