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Sad Poems
Polite intrusions measure the profound. Bit of skin like yardsticks. Carry the soil in a concatenation of how far. The virus appeals to her soft spots. The weather descend without regard. And we are blind as we once were. As we have ever been. Looking out of these soiled windows....
The architecture of her frown. In Obvious equations. Frayed gowns wear her. In bold instances of knotted time lines. She finds the future. Weak and crippled. She chases the future through broken mirrors and snowing clouds. She catches it. In its trampy heels and dirty thong. A pregnant whore of...
Naming monsters. An adjective at a time. Lost. In the when. Chasing the obvious. Unaware of what the obvious is. Little stone children. All dressed up in their bows. The devil on the precipice. The corpse in its tuxedo. Because nothing changes. We're just flaunting our ignorance. As the pebble...
Potions in the molecule. Parse their magic through the atoms. She talks to time. In frowns and equations. A tempest of possibilities fighting for her attention amongst a kingdom of lambs. They have conversations. In words divided. By particle waves and common sex. Trading stories about what could have been....
Portions of the whole. On a scale made of when. Counting still made sense. In the fluidity of neurons. Combustion. Gentle explosions. Testing the density. Of flesh. The mind with its roads. Too many to decipher. Torn maps leading to treasures long ago dug up. Time is a coward. More...
Sour apples. Lessons on her tongue. Bruised bananas. Allegories of her touch. The taste is inherent. To the time in which it occurs. The woman is a reflection of the timeline the child took. The winter. In a trembling pause. Stops. Looks at her. And admits. The reason comes after...
Poetry of Life
No matter how far the distance, No matter how tired and busy we are, No matter how much time will it take, Honey, I’ll wait for you for our love sake. I may not always be here for you, I may not always say, ” I love you ” But in my thoughts, my heart...
“There is a part of us as must walks free, A part which you have named, To be yet unnamed, A part which carries a whisper, As a breath does life, A Whisper Of Love Too free to be tamed. It lies within us, as a shadow unseen, It flows before us, as a newborn...
Some things, are not meant to last. Some, were robbed and some were lost. Some, were displayed and sold, and… Some remains intact like a ring of gold. Things change and so do people. Friends left, and some just stop being friends Some just stay and hold you ’till the end, but… Some, you can never hold...
This plentiful right, pieces of earth. A vast depiction in a corner rainbow. To me the vast covering set to release Astonishment, happiness, under the sea arriving vindicated certainties in promise. Just all are the many sitting here Now there’s few standing toward the angelic still as I am blinded an adequate fill, spiritless in movement hiding the...
Heavy is the heart, Slowing you down, Leaving behind the trail like that of a snail, Heavy, like a ball and chain Tied to you in vain. Shattered are your dreams, If you not rid yourself of this shame. There will be no reality. Embrace yourself. There is so much to live for, So get rid of this ball and...
I’m tired, exhausted, Running… The trees down the avenue cannot be counted I’m running too fast. My mouth is dry I see a stream nearby Water won’t quench my thirst It is not what I need My heart pounds into my ribcage So intense, tears stream down my cheeks But I must keep running My compass points into this direction Nothing in...
Lorna Dee Cervantes
I am now officially 100% on Mission, in the The Mission and on a mission. Exciting news in the last week. Major breakthroughs in all areas. True serendipity. What treasures you find when you least expect it, when you aren't even looking: the power of intent. "God is alive; Magic...
HAPPY NEW NOW! HAVE A VERY MERRY EVER!
... and I resolve to be a better blogger in the future with a whole new look. (Heck, I may even reclam my domain name.) Meanwhile, join me on Facebook for work and play and edumacation. Peace on Earth. Good will to women and all the men in their lives....
Where In The World Is Lorna? TONIGHT w/ Francisco X. Alarcon
Join me, Lorna Dee Cervantes & Francisco X. Alarcón who will be reading his poems from the new book featuring Precita Eyes Muralists & maestra muralists Susan Cervantes & JuanAlicia, San Francisco Street Art: Mission Muralismo TONIGHT, 8 pm. Come MAPP crawl, stop into The City's only neighborhood Visitors Center...
Where In The World Is Lorna? Revised Fall/Winter Schedule: Sonoma State University, TODAY, 1-3:30pm
Nov. 20Sonoma State University, Friday, 11/20, 1:00 - 3:40 pm, Stevenson Hall, room 2001; Rohnert Park, CA.Nov. 28 Rosas en el Mar: Lorna Dee Cervantes, MamaCoatl, Avotcja, and others. 6-10 pm, Dance Mission Theater, 24th Street & Mission, San Francisco, in honor of INTERNATIONAL MONTH FOR THE ELIMINATION OF VIOLENCE...
Where In the World is Lorna? Lorna Dee Cervantes Fall Poetry Readings Calendar
Lorna Dee Cervantes Readings:Nov. 6• Kickoff Extravaganza: “Mission Muralismo: The HEART of the Mission, A Celebration of Art and Community” celebrates Street Art San Francisco: Mission Muralismo, edited by Annice Jacoby with a foreword by Carlos Santana, in partnership with Precita Eyes Muralists; this will be one of the...
...my one and only baby was born. HAPPY BIRTHDAY! May all your passages be smooth.I'm back in Boulder, feeling odd and strange to be back for a few days after 2 years and a few months away. Looking at my office again, I'm trying not to feel overwhelmed at the...
PoetryFoundation.org
Inventing Michael Field by Michelle Lee
Some 125 years ago, a new playwright named Michael Field created a buzz among London literati with the print debut of two blank-verse dramas in a single volume: the ancient Greek Callirrhoë and the English historical Fair Rosamund. Callirrhoë and Fair Rosamund announced the “ring of a...
Carl Sandburg Stops Making Sense by Ross Simonini
Nonsense is for everyone. It falls off the tongues of all speakers of all languages everywhere, from Hugo Ball in Switzerland to Aimé Césaire in Martinique to SpongeBob SquarePants in Bikini Bottom. True, nonsense words and sentences can’t make arguments or walk through A-ergo-B lessons, but this is part of...
Learning Lab: W.S. Merwin: “The Nails” by Jeffrey McDaniel
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In Memoriam: Ruth Lilly, 1915-2009 by The Editors
The Poetry Foundation is grateful for Ruth Lilly’s extraordinarily generosity and kindness. The staff and trustees of the Poetry Foundation are greatly saddened by Ms. Lilly’s death and extend their condolences to her family. Thanks to Ms. Lilly’s munificence, the programs of the Poetry Foundation bring poems to 19 million...
The Poetry of Deep Winter by Annie Finch
“Unlike autumn, in whose complex and fertile imagery poets love to linger, winter, that stylized season, is often evoked as a single deft emblem in just a line or two—lines that can be cold and heavy with the press of everything not said. It could be pain at a parent’s...
2000-2009: The Decade in Poetry by The Editors
The past ten years have changed poetry in ways that have shocked and delighted even the most forward-thinking readers and writers. Online communities have flourished, dominant paradigms have shifted, and readers have found new solace in traditional forms. Poetry—and poetry communities—will never be the same. We asked poets and critics...
Harriet: The Blog
This English Language -- Sotère Torregian
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CA Conrad’s and Frank Sherlock’s The City Real and Imagined -- Thom Donovan
Sunday of this past weekend saw the official New York City launch of CA Conrad’s and Frank Sherlock’s collaborative book-length poem The City Real and Imagined, published by Heretical Texts, at the Zinc Bar reading series hosted by Dorothea Lasky. Among a crowd of friends and admirers the two poets...
Dung and Glitter -- Bhanu Kapil
Text is prebiotic. The book that can't be written appears in the world....
UbuWeb Top Ten for Feb by Christian Wiman -- Kenneth Goldsmith
1. Christopher Logue – “This is the final statement…” (1934-35) [MP3 link](From Aspen 7) 2. John Tavener – For Rene Magritte [MP3 link] (From Aspen 7) 3. Ed Dorn – from Gunslinger, Book 4 [MP3 link] (From Giorno Poetry Systems – Totally Corrupt ) 4. ...
Salute to the Bloggers -- Sotère Torregian
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Proceeding Translation: Brandon Brown & David Larsen -- Thom Donovan
Sadly, Sara Wintz and I hosted our last SEGUE event of the season this past Saturday. David Larsen and Samantha Giles (of Small Press Traffic in San Francisco) were the readers, and I thought an excellent complement to one another, Larsen reading from his translation of Ibn Khalawayh’s 9th century...
Wingtips
Warmest greetings to all of you
I am a bit late for Christmas, but still in time to greet you a wonderful 2010. I think the best way to greet a better world is with the innocence of a child. here's a friend's daughter....
Coming Back It's like telling the past to the dry stones in the river-- you sneak your fingers, displace the clinging spiders, unwrap places you visited and hear the friction of years, the creaking of leaves once buds and now......
Jeez, I have been absent for a long time, but missed my regular ( more or less) posts and visits. Resting after a long session of exams during which I was far more worried than the students who had to......
AVATAR REVIEW --11...
An old one recently revised for NaPo. Touching Light His liquid thoughts I measure on dry lips. We huddle in the bed; in silken tangle of twilight, savage flame, I lose my grip. He crosses hands around my knees then......
Trying to Write about Abruzzo's Earthquake
Trying to Write about Abruzzo's Earthquake The poem travelled by car, crossed half Italy all alone leaning its voice on crooked steeples, echoing voices buried under tons of ruins. It didn't ask for anything, not even words, arrived without warning......
rooted
odor of memories make me lurch towards you, my friend
after almost three decadesyou have drifted awayyou didn't look backmy cards sent back unopenedemails discardedwhen I see you onlineand connect with youyou turn awayswitch off mentally from memy thoughts franticI still try to be in touch"odor of memories make me lurch towards you, you, a friend I made in my...
that glass of water-water swirls of it suddenlyuncannily I see you ...
so difficult to fathom for mostyet so easy for methat instant rapportwithout reproachgoing on a straightlineI stop. bending over the curveI touch that milestone.my sensors worked towards itI turned towards youand intend to stay cosseted...
I slowly roll grievetouch it for a momentand throw it as far as I canI unroll my heartletting you into itbeacon of it burns brighta kindred, I foundin nothingness that was-and firmly established it in me"I await with impatience for it to wash me over, again and yet again"...
photo in the room I can almost feel you there- peace shatters in me...
fog lifts from withinI see with clarityof my future ahead.with no plansit suddenly materialisedout of nothing.you made it happenyou will make it happen-the likes of which I never envisaged.I give in to youand you give in to meinevitability is just accepted."that yes, you simply picked up from me;sunny days, I...
Elsewhere
DIANA HAMILTON & DIVYA VICTORSEGUE SERIES @ BOWERY POETRY CLUBSaturday, February 6, 4:00pm - 6:00pm308 Bowery 1 block above HoustonSix bucks, goes to the readersDiana Hamilton's poetry has appeared in mid)rib, Nap, Foursquare 3.1 and The Boog Reader 3 and is forthcoming in The Physical Poets Vol 3. She maintains...
MERRY CHRISTMAS!...
"... SAYS YES"The new running gag at our house is "... says yes," sung to the tune of "Jimmy Carter Says Yes":For instance, this morning, reading the Paul Sharits issue of Film Culture (No. 65-66, 1978), Nada blurted out "This is so fetishistic!" and started reading a passage aloud, wherein...
MY FAVORITE FILMS OF THE DECADE (2000-09)inspired by Michael KelleherAction: Prachya Pinkaew’s “Ong Bak.” This movie not only restored my faith in contemporary action/martial arts flicks, but in motor vehicle chase scenes--a faith I never even had! See the tuk-tuk chase here, but turn the sound down: some yahoo overlayed...
TONIGHTKIMBERLY LYONS & THE ZINC BAR PRESENTTHE WOMEN OF FLARF!Shanna ComptonKatie DegenteshNada GordonSharon MesmerMel NicholsElisabeth Workman6:30pm, Zinc Bar82 West 3rd Street (btwn Thompson & Sullivan), NYC$5 donation...
THREE TITLE PAGES FROM ELSEWHERE 4Part 1Part 2Part 3...
anachronizms
FlashbackWe were looking at the lake through the eyesof a murder. Was it simply platonic? I feelokay about how we spent our impasse. Yellowleaves, thin, small, scattered on the walk aroundthe plaza. Spigots and shrubbery, some sort oflaughing bird, the plastic hunchbacks spinningin the noontime wind. Didn’t she get her...
Say That Again With Your Tongue In My MouthHappy Hump Day! I can see the Second Comingin faces of Frank on molded glasses. This, a darkruse, with rhetorical concern of high homosexual fashion (think burning hundred dollar bills, tit-clamps, tattoos on foreheads, exploding bottles of Veuve Clicquot) and mushy faces...
Fantastic the feathers the Fed gathers just tothink of root beer. I wrote a couple new ones on the economy’s pulse. My heart came out messy. Switch to digital pilfering. Scour Sonoma for an egg cup. Flexible enough to flaunt inconsistency skills and still controlthe tonsils....
This my ulterior projection,thought too long I’d have to beburied. Burnt up, of course,in San Francisco’s jonquils,after tulips and juleps. Herutter jonquils, no less. Or just wow, a new me, a first kiss on the F-train.Or just wow, Lost in Translation at theHall of Mirrors.I say bye. Walkup hill. ...
Smeeches (formerly Smoochies)Scarcely heated next to thetrauma outfit....Sat on yourface where Gavin’s bride bleeds....Override Charminsqueeze....Sometimes only shadow practice....Getting emails 2am reaches over....You aren’t there and feela presence anyway....MeansI guess he means it....Movesthe planet’s butt to left field but fakes a pass and cracks a nut....What’s with all the blank?Fuzzy Post-its.......Tuscaloosa....
Getting overly emotional aboutan hour and a half lunch. Smokerising erections. That’s why youneed a dog on the bed at all times.Was hot you? I married a colorist. (Bill Berkson)I waited to...
Soul Gaze
It was all infatuation a figment of my imagination a hopeful heart listening to pie in the sky It wasn’t real hidden behind a mask now dropped to the ground showing an ugly side Rise up my hands to heaven thankful is now and not later when all is done would have brought more tears to my eyes No reason, no justification to use...
Flames flicker in the darkness, my senses awakening, my emotions rising, shining through, slicing barriers tumbling down defenses. Words linger in the air dancing, flirting with ideas not knowing where it goes or where is taken but loving the sensations. Shining through the loneliness, walking a new path, unaware of the emotions that wrap this heart; molding, melting, transforming. Longing for the...
Wrapped in unending words in inexplicable sensations waves crashing on the shore of the desolate beach. Refreshed in forceful emotions long gone with time forgotten and then discovered like holy ground. Wrapped in soft words lingering close to the heart shining through the dark revealing a gold treasure. Shower with attentions full of shining dreams fantasies galore what else could I see. Wrapped in...
There you are Standing in the cold winter Waiting to be ushered in But the gate is closed At least for now Cause they guard A shattered heart And you look across the courtyard of a beautiful garden that took years to build but now is starting to dry out in the cold winter eve of a dark night In time all will...
There something special about caring without seeing, without touching, just gentle words across the space connecting one to the other. There is something special about touching without feeling a hand and yet having the sensation of being caressed all over with the sound of your voice. There is something special about dreaming to the point of thinking is was all real, just because our minds connect in a...
Rolling down my skin Droplets of desires Unforgotten moments Dreamt long ago. I close my eyes and see The shadow of your figure Slowly coming towards me Ready to embrace. My yearning body Swift enchanting moments Our breath becomes one Taking me high High above the sky. The universe encompass The greatness of this heart Turbulent...
Poetry News
Maine Arts Commission Announces State Finals of Poetry Out Loud Competition...
Maine's High school students are currently competing for the chance to represent the state at the Poetry Out Loud: National Recitation Contest in Washington, D.C. this April....
Arts center plans first poetry slam
Audience members will be encouraged to cheer their approval of outstanding readings or recitations Friday evening during the first Poetry Slam at the Hagerstown Museum & Arts Place....
Ex-English lit. major gave up poetry for songwriting
Bulat first made her mark on the national scene where her first full-length CDOh My Darlingmade the short list for the 2008 Polaris Music Prize, awarded annually by Canadian music journalists to what they consider the best Canadian album....
Over The Edge Poetry Book Showcase
JAPANESE POET Hisa Kagawa will be the featured reader at the 2010 Over The Edge Poetry Book Showcase at Sheridan's Wine Bar, near St Nicholas', on Friday February 12 at 8pm....
Brooklyn Has a New Poet Laureate
Tonight at his at his annual State of the Borough Address, Brooklyn Borough President Marty Markowitz announced that Tina Chang of Park Slope has been named the new poet laureate of Brooklyn....
Veteran, newcomer awarded Tufts Poetry Awards
An established San Francisco-area poet and an emerging colleague in Nashville have been named the latest winners of the lucrative Kingsley and Kate Tufts Poetry Awards....
One Poet's Notes
Poem of the Week: "Rain in Venice" by Suzanne Roberts
The VPR Poem of the Week is Suzanne Roberts’ “Rain in Venice,” which appeared in the Spring/Summer 2009 issue (Volume X, Number 2) of Valparaiso Poetry Review.Suzanne Roberts is the author of three poetry collections, Shameless (Cherry Grove, 2007), Nothing to You (Pecan Grove Press, 2008), and Plotting Temporality (Red...
VALPARAISO POETRY REVIEW: Spring Preview
With the beginning of February, the seasons for a couple of my favorite sports start to take shape. In two weeks, major league baseball players will report to spring training camps in Arizona and Florida. Later this week, NASCAR’s preseason occurs in Florida with the Budweiser Shootout, which will be...
Roy Eldridge, born on this date (January 30) in 1911, established a reputation as one of the finest trumpeters in jazz during the 1930s and 1940s, when he played with some of the more notable swing bands of the World War II era, such as Gene Krupa’s Orchestra and the...
Poem of the Week: "Glasses" by Dave Smith
The VPR Poem of the Week is Dave Smith’s “Glasses,” which appeared in the Fall/Winter 2009-2010 issue (Volume XI, Number 1) of Valparaiso Poetry Review.Dave Smith is the author of Little Boats, Unsalvaged (Louisiana State University Press, 2005), his 14th collection of poetry, The Wick of Memory, New and Selected...
Macintosh, Apple's Tablet, and Transitions in Reading or Writing Literature
On this date (Jan. 24) in 1984 Steve Jobs introduced the first Macintosh. From that point forward, the way many of us write and our relationships with the printed page began to change. Indeed, I have a collection of Macintosh computers (going back nearly 25 years) that have influenced the...
James Franco as Allen Ginsberg reading "Howl" in new movie
In the video below, readers will find a sneak peek at one of the clips from the new movie, Howl, starring James Franco portraying Allen Ginsberg (pictured above). The film premieres this week at the Sundance Film Festival in Park City, Utah. As I mentioned in a previous post at...
mygorgeoussomewhere.org
how it came to pass that i left poetry, continued
Feb. 5, 2010 7:59 p.m. I receive confirmation that my next chapbook, forthcoming from Slack Buddha Press, does not need to be labeled as poetry. I am tickled pink. According to the publishers, Slack Buddha shares “the work of contemporary practitioners” and does not force a genre label on any of...
how it came to pass that i left poetry, continued
Feb. 5, 2010 7:46 p.m. I have been stalling since I got home from work. I don’t want to write what I know I must write next in this series. This is something I have written about several times before, and I almost resort to linking to the posts I have...
how it came to pass that i left poetry, continued
Feb. 5, 2010 6:52 p.m. A poet I am acquainted with sends me a message of encouragement through Facebook. She has organized the message into a bullet-point list. She explains her reasoning for this format: “It’s so hard sometimes to come up with a relatively cohesive communication. So I’m resorting to...
how it came to pass that i left poetry, continued
Feb. 5, 2010 7:29 p.m. Nathan and I seem to be at an impasse. We don’t know how to talk to one another unless we’re talking about poetry. We sit on the phone tonight, largely in silence. At first, he attributes the silence on his end to the fact that he’s...
how it came to pass that i left poetry, continued
Feb. 5, 2010 5:35 p.m. I read a poem by W.F. Roby: Dear everyone, I’m sorry for being a poet, for my high brows and low sperm count, for my sweaty middle eight and my lazy back nine, for the tears that well up as I tear a page out of the Onion, for looking past...
how it came to pass that i left poetry, continued
Mid-June, 2009 One of the students from the MFA program in the South contacts me through Facebook after we are all back home. She professes to be a friend I can rely on. She is reaching out in friendship, she explains. She is happy to talk to me, she adds. She says...
something katy
another picture of teh kittehsthis is one of Alli and Jack trying to help me decide what shaped pasta to have with my meatballs...Alli got very paws-on, as you can see...
deformation pronounced with every syllabulcreeking from the crestof a dry tongue at 8amwakes the beating heartof a mountain beast...
a perfect day for banana fish... rest in peace JD Salingerand Howard Zinn :(...
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a poem for jennithe breath of men is stinkier thenthan the litter box in the bedroomhe drinks, he smokes, he writes shit playsand all we do is look awayin hopes that he'll vanishor fashion something dear to usbut, alas, a man with bad breath is heand never will a tooth...
from Left to Right:Yabo, Boo, Halloween Kitty, Fat Baby (aka Atipose), and Hungry...
The Endless Saga
He opened up his soulto look inside but all he foundwere more places to hidedeeper, much darker placeswhere sorrow livedon the tearsof forgottenfacesin deepermuch deeperdarker places~Snow Devilsin the winter-timesunsnow devils swirlacross an open fieldrace each othertoward a split-railfence(c) James Eric Watkins 2009...
The glarefrom the blackbird’s feathersblinded me with a single stare.I looked away, looked back,watched him perchin an old oakoutside my window.I began to recreatehis story in my mind,just what it was that led him here to this tree.But then he turned and looked at me.Our eyes met for but a...
This is from back in the summer,or perhaps spring.I think it was before I had my heart attack,or one of them.It turns outthat, most likely,I've had others.I wrote a new poem,which is posted below.I hope that you enjoy it.I used to deer hunt with my fatherbefore he died.I never killed...
The Hunter’s Fresh KillOnce a heaving beastrunning through the foresthe now lies in piecesin a large bowlbrought up and overthe side of a pick-uptruck by a feller withan accent and a col’ beerin his other hand. ...
Madness & Clarity Shades of Being, Perception, and Personality (some of the stuff I've published thus far)Get yours today.Copies are limited.Click Here to read more.Only $5.00 and shipped anywhere inside the U.S. for FREE!...
“The quality of mercy is not strainedit droppeth like the gentle rainfrom heaven upon the place beneath. . . . It blesseth him that gives and him that takes.” ...
World Class Poetry Blog
If you’ve been wondering about the silence on this side of the Web, I guess now is the time to break it. I would like to say Happy New Year to my loyal readers and say that it’s been a great holiday for me – but I’m just as glad...
Poetry Video: the giant by Kate Greenstreet
Poets are getting more creative in how we promote ourselves. I’m glad to see it. I think this is going to be something we see more and more of in the future. Kate Greenstreet has moved us forward into the 21st century with this poetry video. I see these efforts...
Breadcrumb Sins: Featured Writer, Guess Who
A few days ago I discovered a new poetry journal in the form of a blog. This appears to be the latest trend in online publishing and one I welcome and admire. The blog format is the perfect online format for ongoing publication and suits the journal just fine. I...
The Nuts And Bolts Of Zukofsky
After reading 12-1/2 chapters of “A” by Louis Zukofsky, I’m convinced Zukofsky must have been a lunatic. Only such a person could have spent an entire life on a work such as “A”. I’m sure “A” has some literary value, but in large part it is a mad rambling. Zukofsky has...
My wife is a great woman. When I ask for chicken broth she brings it to me. And she does other things too. But I needed chicken broth last night and she made me the best cup of broth I’ve ever had. Thanks, wife. I’ve been fighting a cold now for...
Yesterday I announced I was reading Louis Zukofsky’s “A”. The poem is decidedly written in the mode of free verse – most parts of it anyway. But imagine my surprise when, at the end of Part 8, I’m reading along and happen upon a Ballade. Right in the middle of...
Freeing nerves
In close touch The poetry book had songs, songs that he had written for her. He gifted it to her. She kept it safe but she bid him farewell saying, "live well". She thought this guy thought too much of her, it frightened her the height of the expectations that she would have to deliver, she was just a mortal and he...
How better can I be tomorrow? What all wrong did I do today? Why did I do that wrong?When all did I speak with the wrong tone today?Why did I speak with the wrong tone?Who all did I hurt today?Why did I hurt them?When all did I stop rejoicing today?Why did I...
The Library of Makerere college I wish to share with you my Makerere college Anthem. "We are men and women of Ugandamarching alongon the path of educationsinging and dancing alongtogether,united for a better Uganda." When I was in Uganda, I did my high schooling at Makerere college School. I had a wonderful time over there, the...
Can you win a chess-match in a single move? There was once a Sufi called "Arshad" who was a contemporary of Sebara the emperor. (Names changed). Arshad had supported an enemy of Sebara and this enemy too was also inclined towards Sufism, and hence Sebara wanted to kill Arshad. Sebara obtained...
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A wise man once said, "Do you know what destroys the foundations of the True way of life and do you know what ruins it?" He then replied to the question, "It is the errors of the learned Scholars that destroy it, and the disputations of the Hypocrite people, and...
Nihilistic Poetry
este lugar existía tenía un ángel que sobrevolaba en dosis de crepúsculo con los hielos narrando los grises cohibidos debajo de las suelas de la prisa y cruza un hombre con brazos de letargo abriendo el humo desahogado que flota en vórtices por la avenida del invierno en estacas se captan los edificios con tendencias melancólicas causadas por un amor que se grabó en incienso y...
If time had a sound it would be the dark arpeggio of a rusty guitar and I’m unsure why I chose a metaphor for time or why that image should enter this poem but I’ve been sitting here not expecting anything not certain of what to look forward to all along kinda swaying with the wasting of every minute almost audibly humming to the repetitive...
Del árbol sube hoja o pensamiento movimiento espaciotemporal un tronco situado debajo de la idea la raíz aferrada al abismo encrucijada o el vacío el cielo se extienden las ramas nace una hoja o algún pensamiento el caos juega de viento sacudiendo la madera en un ritmo drogado y subo del árbol al pensamiento alcanzando una palabra si acaso dice: soy. ...
At last, alone a new bar quietly staring at the incongruities of a Friday night. A whole sofa for myself noise and smoke chaos in small doses – slowly letting the booze sink in as I begin to feel like an invincible dragon ready to scorch the night in one terrible yawn of boredom. Not much later I got up and headed home to drown whatever was left...
Then, suddenly I’m sitting next to a Lithuanian, a Turkish and a Palestinian the latter dressed in sweat pants and barefoot the middle is big-boned and not shy about it the former eager to raise havoc over any trifle — a heavily drunk balding man gets up in front of us slips on a step only to land...
I’m sitting alone in a bar. Again. It’s one of those nights. Waiting for something to happen. Moments before walking, beer in hand no destination no subject to develop pure whim an attempt to submit to the greater forces that control this life. They never show up. Now I sit alone, beer in hand waiting for something to happen. nihilistic poetry ...