The Poet’s Duty

by Pablo Neruda To all those who hear not the crashing of waves this Friday morning, who being bound to a home or office, factory or mineshaft, romance or roadway or dry prison cell: to them unspeaking and blind the poet attends, opening the door that has shut them in where endlessness can be heard…

We try

“where the hummingbird, wherever there is a fuss, just rises and floats away” —Mary Oliver To make the attempt at something more than the least and the longing somehow to venture upward into blue fine ethers where wanting is not misfortune where time does not steal where happiness is an aching and the shine of…

Gabriel García Márquez: The Gift of Vision

A light has gone out. Gabriel García Márquez wielded incomparable influence over literature across the world, during his career. His development and mastery of what came to be known as magical realism helped to bring poetry into fiction in ways both blazing and subtle. And his ability to blend the hard facts of life in…

The Fullness

It’s not the simple or the short or the long or aching that comes in waves and tastes like history it’s not the fact that she was gone so suddenly or had been there at all or almost wasn’t even as she wept

One morning, approaching winter

Absence has the flavor of meaning but not the force a quiet wind speaks a clear draught of unspoken frequencies reverberating in chambers and rivulets of undiluted soul the undeniable something with no name and no braking

Cifra y motor

Recuerdo, o quisiera recordar, como te fuiste con la inocencia volando a tu alrededor en trapos medio rotos y quemados por la duda. No viene claro. No se resuelve en la vitrina de mi añoranza. Ese momento no era momento, sino milenio comprimido, catedral andina y cómplice de no sé que actor indescifrable. Cifra y…

Everything Shifted

“The boat’s slow progress through the night was like the passage of a coherent thought through the subconscious.” — Joseph Brodsky & you were with mestrong evanescent looming up from dreamplay with solid destination nesting sable in your gaze

Your Voice Alone

your voice alone in the humid sphere of competing midnights ancient unswerving clarion ready to unravel the monsoon or burn away its floods with a whisper