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Maria Cristina Azcona

Maria Cristina Azcona is an argentine novelist and poetess. She is also Director of Inst. Relations for CADDAN, a non profit publishing Co. in Argentina. She has received two university degrees in: Psycho -pedagogy and Family Counselling, one in Argentina and the other in Spain. Since then, she works as a Psychotherapist in Buenos Aires. In 1998 she won First Prize in poetry at one of the most important contests of her country, organized by the Argentine Centre for Development of New Authors, (C.A.D.D.A.N.). Since that moment she wrote four books in Spanish, and has participated in many international anthologies around the world, especially at USA, India and Spain.
Her poetry has been published twice by Milwaukee Department of Health, USA. Her work in poetry and prose can be read in printed publications like: Spirit, The Taj Mahal Review, Biffs Quarterly, Kabita Pradesh, and others around India , Argentina, Spain, Jordan and USA. Also her e-books and chapbooks are sold by Rowe Publishing, UK and other American e-publishers. Author of books: Dos Talles Menos De Cerebro (Poems)), Mundo Postmoderno (Poems), La Voz Del Angel (Short Novel), Estar De Novios Hoy (Self Help Essay)

Poems by Maria Cristina Azcona


Plenty of daisies, a dark green pool waits.
The night falls, its gown falls.
The swan makes inaudible sounds,
Its neck elongates and swims towards the bridge, aside.

Plenty of time in the moonlight, silence…
Someone is coming towards the pool, in silence…

The swan escapes, its legs against the water.
My hand touches the obscurity.
I can breath my insecurity.
I exhale my own spirit.
A shadow breaks the air and falls to the pool.
The daisies encircling the abysm
I am the only one to rescue the night from the


Sweet tranquility needs the globe
to see sons and daughters grow.
Without care, any child can reach
the necessary height
Peace is light and war is heavy.
Can our backs support its weight?
War is necessary, someone says.
But life does not need the death.
Let us think a little more,
Not the day after...
But the day before.


Don’t be mad about that boy
Who laughs always at your aspect.
Don’t you see this is the way
He chooses, to forget that he is

He will try to make you cry
So you can´t play with other children.
But you never must respond
Using poison on your tongue.
What do you want to know?
Why are you so different?
If the animals were similar,
It would be illogical to visit the Zoo.
And the stamps in your last album
Beauty hides in differences, too.

But, wait.. in the balcony of your eyes…
A tear trembles...
That’s it...Now your brilliant smile triumphs
on your peculiar face,
And sun rises over your different race.

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