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Epilogue

28 Jul

Truly, this: My thoughts
of you won’t leave the worn paths
carved within my heart

Our eyes, our mouths, locked
invisible caresses
skin to skin, linger

I meant everything
my silent lips have said
and more. Yes, there is more.

 

Bar Harbor, Maine

Bar Harbor, Maine

Sometimes there is no clear path. There are many things I want to express, but at the same time I have to question myself: to what end?

Mincing words almost always leads me to haiku. This is a series of three haikus. Together they are but a scratch along the surface of everything I keep inside.

The last haiku is 5-7-5, but for aesthetic purposes I dropped the 7th syllable of the second line down to the last line. So, instead of a haiku, its a my-ku 😉

When

9 Jan

When the moon glows full
and the stars speak to you with
infinite sweetness

when you find a green
rolling field, inviting you
to lay upon it

when a lofty view
tugs at that space within you
that never stays full

think of me, perhaps
feel me close, remember my
joy in knowing you.

In the curve of the arch.

Glowing Arch, Washington Square Park, October 2015.

This started out as haikus composed in my head while I tried to sleep. Although I did follow the traditional 5-7-5 pattern, and there is nature involved, the verses are more like American Sentences (17 syllables), and together form the complete poem.

When emotions run deep, poetry helps me distill the essence of what I want to take away from an experience. Sometimes, it takes a few times to distill it all. I am finding more and more, that fewer words are often best.

Down with the Sails

5 Apr

Wild nights Wild nights!
Were I with thee
Down would come the sails
Naked in the moonbeams we
As our Wild nights should be
Our secret luxury!

Futile the calling winds
My Heart seduced in your port
Done with the Compass
Done with the Chart!
My Q flag a flying
My wheel lashed up short.

Rowing in a blissful Eden
Ah rocking in time with the Sea!
My heart tugs at the anchor
Open your arms to harbor me
Might I but moor tonight
Dear sir, In thee!

image

It’s a poetic arts & crafts project for day five of NaPoWriMo. Today’s prompt is to choose a poem by Emily Dickinson, then deconstruct and reconstruct it. I chose Wild Nights – Wild Nights! (no surprise there). I incorporated a little bit more of the ‘sailboat in port’ metaphors. I was never fully satisfied with her original poem to begin with, so this was a nice chance to doctor it up a bit.

This is Just to Say

8 Apr

I have written
many poems
about you
on my blog

and which
you were probably
thinking
is not cool

Forgive me
they were fantasy
so sweet
and so irresistible.

Bulletin board in Nantucket

Bulletin board in Nantucket

NaPoWriMo Day 8! I am waay behind again this year, partially because I feel like I lost my muse. Anyway, today’s prompt was to rewrite a famous poem. I chose to rewrite one of my very favorite poems, by William Carlos Williams, which you can read below:

I have eaten
the plums
that were
in the icebox

and which
you were probably
saving
for breakfast

Forgive me
they were delicious
so sweet
and so cold

Nácar / Mother of Pearl

10 Mar

(English translation below)

Nácar

Eres como el nácar de las conchas
veo tus distintos aspectos
bajo cada luz y sombra
pero no es tu superficie
lo que se ilumina a cada ángulo
porque tu misterio es más profundo
forjado con láminas delgadas
de algo transparente y bello
puestas unas sobre otras
según las etapas de tu vida.
Pero aún así no capto
tu belleza en su totalidad,
porque hasta ahora yo no te tengo,
no soy tuya, ni tú mío,
y por tenerte no quiero decir amarte
porque eso ya está en marcha
desde hace mucho tiempo.
No, por tenerte quiero decir
el entendimiento tuyo
que tú me tienes a mí
y sabiéndolo
no quisieras soltarme, nunca.

Otro poema inspirado por la poesía de Mario Benedetti, mas que nada por su estilo. Las palabras vienen e intento escribirlas antes de que se escapan de mi mente. Es un reto tratar de igualar a la maestría de Benedetti, pero vale el intento, y es algo que me divierte. Porque algunos leyentes me lo pidieron, grabé una recitación de este poema en español.

Nacar

Nácar de conchas.

Another poem inspired by the poetry of Mario Benedetti, mostly by his style. The words come and I try to write them down quickly before they escape from my mind. It is a challenge to try to equal the mastery of Benedetti, but it’s worth a shot and it’s fun to do.

Mother of Pearl

You are like mother of pearl
I see your distinct aspects
under each light and shadow
but it is not your surface
that illuminates from every angle
because your mystery is deeper
forged with thin layers
of something clear and beautiful
placed one above the other
according to the stages of your life
but even so, I do not perceive
your beauty in its entirety
because until now, I do not have you,
I’m not yours, nor you mine,
and by having you I don’t mean loving you
because that has been underway
for quite a long time.
No, by having you I mean to say
your understanding that
you have me
and knowing this
you would not want to let me go, ever.

One Last Thing

10 Dec

Please, let me kiss you
before the summer bids us adieu
while its glow still warms through your eyes,
while your mouth yet beguiles me with smiles,
and our youthful hearts still beat true.

Let all that has been done, undo
and let nothing witness it but the skies,
as we give in to the sweetest surprise
if you please, let me kiss you

like we fear no pain anew
with nothing to lose, we’ll gently construe
from lips to lips, with words implied
honey sweetness, on a rising tide,
imparting volumes with our sighs, how to
please, let me kiss you.

And with one
electric shock,
as the dawn
dissipates the dark,
I promise
I will do naught,
but kiss you.

altantic_beach_morning_flower

Since Tony Maude over at Dverse Poets Pub introduced the rondeau I have been working on this poem. My biggest challenge was the rhyme structure, which for this rondeau is a 15-line poem with rentrement (aabba–aabR–aabbaR). I call mine a rondeau+ because the last stanza is not really rondeau form, more like a parenthesis or an afterthought, in a Cummings kind of way. I welcome your comments on how it turned out!

 

The Lovers

7 Oct

beautiful boy
I know just what you mean
There is no me without you
Hungry ghosts
Joined at the heart
The elephant in the room
Song of the tides
The hidden messages in water
I thought it was just me
(but it isn’t)

Image

Inspired by Sorted Books Poetry in Book Titles by Samuel Peralta on Dverse

Summer Love

9 Aug

They met in the summer,
on the south end of Pawleys Island
where the waves slap high-fives
and the north wind runs free.
And on one star-filled night,
while the moon shone bright,
the green marsh fell deeply
in love with the blue sea.

You could feel it everywhere,
their love was swirling in the air.
She loved his blue intensity,
he loved her green positivity.
It was right as the tides,
so it came as no surprise,
when the dashing blue groom,
took the luminous green bride.

For the great wedding feast
came the turtles, from the east
and other privileged guests,
including the egrets from the west.
The mullets came from up north,
a procession of pelicans from down south,
and the blue creek crabs
just popped in, unannounced.

“I will love you when it storms,
and when its sunny, I will rejoice.”
“I will provide a place for you,
I will listen for your voice.”
“And whether the tides are high or low,
no matter how the wind blows,
we will ride it all together
so our precious love grows.”

As long as time will be,
every year on Pawleys,
all shall celebrate the day
the green marsh
married the blue sea.
Because Forever, the blue sea
will run his gentle fingers through her hair.
Forever, the green marsh
will whisper sweet nothings in his ear.
And when only sand and shells remain,
the air will still smell like champagne.

Weddings

Mil y uno

3 Jun

Mil conversaciones
con mil sentidos,
mil esperanzas
con mil suspiros,
Sin contar las
mil miradas
con mil anhelos,
mil jugadas,
mil duelos.

Mil horas
esperando.
Mil dias
sin verano.
Hay mil formas
de olvidar,
pero mil formas más
de recordar.

Yo te juro:
con solo una palabra
mil campanas
suenan en mi alma,
y mil millas-
mil millas
no son nada.

This is my very first complete poem written in Spanish. Lots of influences coming into play here. Thank you Miss Aurea Perez  and Mrs. Miriam Torranzos, two wonderful teachers who shared their love of poetry with their students, and enriched my life in the process.

Mil campanas suenan en mi corazón.

Mil campanas suenan en mi corazón. Butterflies, by Enrique Tábara, photographed at the Hilton Colon hotel in Guayaquil, Ecuador

Night Air, Warm and Smoky

21 Apr

Day 19 of my 30 day odyssey of poetry: write a poem about the first time you did something. This is a poem about the first time I was struck by lightning.

Night air, warm and smoky,
as often Guayaquil nights are
it was not long after
the party bus crowd disembarked
that he took me by the hand
and I,
ever anxious
ever torn
crossed over to no-man’s land
(or so it seemed, to me).

Under a pool of light
we stopped, and I
-simply in denial
of what was to come-
glanced around, nervously.

He, singular in purpose,
gentlemanly in manner,
(so close, I could feel
the warmth of his arm
through his white-collared shirt)
said my name,
and I looked
up

and down it came
like a lightning bolt
coursing through me
from head to toe
stopping briefly at my knees
which buckled, this I know.

The kiss was quick,
but did its trick.
The electricity of his fingers
on my neck,
I can’t forget.

I stood there, wobbling,
heart beating very fast,
then, I had the audacity
to ask:
“Why did you do that?”
(I really did want to know)

“I like you,” he said, and
the look in his eyes told me
here it comes again.
Still nervous, I blushed
but eagerly enough,
I think I kissed him back.

Chiva bus

Chevere Guayaquil en Chiva

Dialogue – Weekly Writing Challenge

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