Sunday, November 28, 2010

Laughter and Clarity

Laughter and Clarity


He rows with dew oars
toward the spot
where the wind begins,
the remote shore where he grows
in undisturbed silence,
and stares
at the ebbing moon,
the color of the world
which has not had a cradle
of pupils, and cries.

Saturday, November 27, 2010

30 Seconds To Mars - Closer To The Edge

Poem up at THIS - A literary Zine and Guerilla Pamphlets

Poem up at THIS - A literary Zine and Guerilla Pamphlets 

You

You


You were the unborn ship of stars
a shadow exiting the sound of my death
my distant smile
my ocean without a currant
my thick riverbed
my fine sand
nobody else but you

Tú


Eras navío de estrellas sin nacer
sombra salida del sonido de mi muerte
mi sonrisa distante
mi mar sin lecho
mi rio grueso
mi arena fina
y nadie más que tú

Friday, November 26, 2010

On my first day without you

On my first day without you,

I’ll wash my face with ice water. 
Grab my coloring chalks and paint

a woman dressed in red coming out
of church.  She’ll be staring into a blue sky
with a blank face as the exit walls tremble.
 
Her womb swollen, and you speechless
and unhappy beside her looking for me,
eyes begging for absolution.

But here I am to remind you,
as the earth quakes beneath my feet,
absence makes the mind forget.

Thursday, November 25, 2010

On the Death of my Mother



On the Death of my Mother


I woke up thinking about Sparks and how she still has
someone to remember her long calico fur.  
How death had poor directions and left that scruffy dog

living on the other side of the street sleep
until noon while she found a corner of the house
on which to lay her cares for good.  I thought about the guilt

I felt for not being the perfect son with the large
bank account, the mansion, and the sports cars.
I shed a few tears when I recalled how you’d caress my face. 

It reminded me of Paris and how much I thought about you
while shopping for gifts at the wineries.   It was me
death should have looked for— childless, flashy,

with the sexual appetite, the urban legend,
 the one who should be spooking children
when they go to sleep for weeks after Halloween.

Wednesday, November 24, 2010

Este cuarto

Este cuarto

es un desfiladero
de paredes agrietadas
y brisas secas que maman
los senos de un naranjal.
Este cuarto, una pequeña
campana, y un bastón
sin sangre o sonido 
no son nada;
Mejor sería ponerlo
a dormir.

This room

This room

is a mountain pass
with ruptured walls
and a dry breeze
sucking on the breast
of an orange grove.
This room, a small bell,
and a staff without
blood, or sound;
Better it be put
to sleep.

Tuesday, November 23, 2010

Constant Craving: Gogyohka sequence

Constant Craving:  Gogyohka sequence


1.
No one,
I was alone.
Alone painting dusk
and dawn.
Hush lover, hush.

Whisper
when you’re distant
from the formula
of your conceited
pride.

2.
The visions return
without threads
or needles, only the echo 
of poetic voices—
my dead are restless

3.
tighten
the farewell sash. 
Night fog is over.
Lover, set aside garlands,
the rum and drums.

4.
Your legs
are wide open;
a night of unfinished
buses crashing
on a golf course.

5.
I close my eyes
frightened
of the empty beer cans,
packed
in that locked closet.

6.
Curl on my lips.
Hide from the world
in the voice of the wind.
Lengthen yourself 
in my daydreams.

7.
We were accidental tourists
caught in the conversation
of kisses,
pure harmony of arms
under the effects of a starry night.


Dormir

Dormir


Hoy es difícil decir
cómo me siento.  
La amargura se pasea
como Juana la loca
por mis pupilas
y ni el medicamento
me salva.  Hoy una
hormiga recorre
las calles de mi
corazón muerta
del frio, todo es
escarcha, todo es
escarcha.  Hoy
yo mismo me
enterraría vivo
en el sueño eterno de tu cama.

Absence

Absence 


A sigh, and nothing else,
would be enough
to drop a dish 
and start the hammering
of the heart.
Tonight, however, 
the poet tries to say 
what all this absence 
means.

Monday, November 22, 2010

December

December


There’s a pretty redhead turning
tricks out on the street.  Misery
and desolation lie with her
when she sleeps.  She reaches
for her jeans where she hopes to find
a dirty old calendar with a circle
around December and a bus ticket
back to Reims.  When she finds
the month is missing she pounces
and she screams:  Who pinched
the month of December?  Who could
have done that shit to me?

Sunday, November 21, 2010

Songs for Poems

Songs for Poems


Pretty boy, may God
keep you safe from tears
in red China Roses,

leaf storms
in the city
of wind,

pupils
that do not have
horizons,

or silence
set against the sea
if they do not ask
to exchange
music for poems. 

Pretty boy, avoid
dryness of lips
from the traveler
that embroiders  

temptation with fire
on the last train
of my calendar.

Canciones por Palabras


Canciones por Palabras


Muchacho lindo,
Dios te libre
de lágrimas
en amapolas rojas,

de la hojarasca
en la ciudad
del viento,

de pupilas
que no tienen
horizontes,

o del silencio
frente al mar
si no te pide

canciones
por palabras.

Muchacho lindo guárdate
de la resequedad
de labios

del viajero
que borda
tentaciones
con incendios

en el último tren
del calendario,
la última parada
de mi llanto.

Saturday, November 20, 2010

Never use the word "suddenly" to create tension

Never use the word "suddenly" to create tension




I placed chains made out of dawns 
on our nuptial thalamus.  
Why did you abandon me?  


I Entangled your steps 
with all my furrows.  
Why become the decoy of the time?  


Suddenly, day and night
abandoned me.  What did you leave, 
but a tightly suffocated shadow!

Nunca uses la palabra “repentinamente” para crear tensión

Nunca uses la palabra “repentinamente” para crear tensión 





Le puse cadena 
de auroras 
a nuestro tálamo. 
¿Por qué 
me abandonas? 



Enrede tus pasos
con todos mis surcos.
¿Para qué 
convertirte en señuelo 
del tiempo?



Repentinamente
Me abandono el día 
y la noche.
¡Qué me dejas, sino 
una sombra apretada!

Friday, November 19, 2010

The House of Wisdom

The House of Wisdom


Lost is the twilight
where sadness went to sleep,
lost the Gospel according to Eve,
and the "Rare Books" section
at the House of Wisdom. 
Only the dream about our bodies
at play remains in the mystical
voice of your embrace.

Thursday, November 18, 2010

Gale of my desire

Gale of my desire,

perhaps it was the dry leaves
trembling among the autumn snow,
but I knew you would be mine
when I heard the lightest
noiselessness of songbirds hidden
behind the palisade.  

Vendaval

Vendaval



Vendaval de mi deseo,
quizás fueron las hojas secas
que tiemblan entre la nieve de otoño,
pero supe que serias mío
cuando escuche el silencio,
la afonía más ligera
de pájaros cantores escondidos
detrás de la empalizada.

Gogyohka vii

Gogyohka vii


Fuimos turistas accidentales atrapados
en conversación de besos,
pura armonía
de abrazos bajo el efecto
de un rapto estrellado.

Gogyohka vii

Gogyohka  vii


We were accidental tourists
caught in the conversation 
of kisses,
pure harmony of arms 
under the effect of a starry rapture

Wednesday, November 17, 2010

Five poem accepted at MungBeing

Five poem accepted at MungBeing  

Daybreak

Daybreak


Birds peck on the solid plinth
I once stood upon in silence;
Strange to see my white shadow
become luminous with song.

The earth surrounding me parts
as each particle of light recreates
a new beginning, and I am 
inebriated daybreak

exposed to the open air. 
The wind in the trees
and magenta clouds 
sweep over me.

Tuesday, November 16, 2010

Pornografía



Pornografía


Me miré en tus ojos. 
No faltaba extremidad
alguna.  Afuera en la
ciudad llovía. 
El pavimento brillaba
con el trafico de cuerpos
mojados, sobresaltados,
risibles.  Necesitaba
un piso plano
de mármol fresco.

Monday, November 15, 2010

A New Direction

A New Direction


A phased plan
began to wind down

the old garden path—
a pathos born

from the sustained
imbalance

of an unfriendly touch.
Yet this is me

in my present direction:
seedling of every tree,

fragrance of earth's
warless soil,

silence of humankind
ushering me into the 

awaited applause.

Sunday, November 14, 2010

No Huyas

Te escondes
del viento
enroscándote
en mis labios
alárgate
en mi sueño
y no me dejes
solo.

Tu deseo se hunde
y se estruja
en mis caderas
como un faisán
a la deriva.  

Tápame la boca
con tus labios criollos
para que no se escape
la presa de su jaula. 

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