Tag Archives: writing

In Spite Of Me

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when my words
surfacing out of
poetry define
who am I
I cry

I also
rejoice and
stand still as
if suspended
all at the same
exact

time holding
that tiny particle
of truth inside me
that shining in spite
of me

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Removed

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under or above
removed from usual
grounds from valleys
to enter quieter realms
stillness and marvel
to be marginal
observing whether
with fish or birds
a new silence
lingering in
eternity

This poem is part of the collection Crossing Riviera.

By the way, in case you wish to give me some feedback based on your experience or instruction, this new Blocks Editor DRIVES ME CRAZY!!! Not sure it works for poems… even the Schedule seems more lengthy and complicated and, sorry for the past few weeks, missing the usual posting time and dates – I was experimenting with the Block Editor! Arrgh…

Superlatives

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the wildest

is at the bottom

of peace

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the loneliest

is found among

a crowd

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the kindest

is yourself forgiving

after rage

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Poem from the collection Silente

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Last week no poems were ever published due to the gravity of George Floyd’s killing and in observance and solidarity of Black Out Tuesday and Black Lives Matter.

Solitude Serves Me Well

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before is the bird’s
song and the occasional
car passing by

then the refrigerator
freezing while shaking
the hot water boiler

or an airplane
far away the mailman
comes dropping

volumes of papers
we need to lift glance
at a minute then dispose

that’s how days roll
away how solitude
serves me well

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This poem is from the California Notebook collection, available in paper book and digital format.

The Look My Soul Has

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in between loving cats
and feeding elders
roaming paths

it was the caressing
with my eyes of the olive
trees barks twisted by

the winds and the lack
of water – is that the look
my soul has – she had no

idea life was business
to attend same the church
and the cats and the elderly

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2013-10-27 13.48.09

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This poem is part of the collection Not Rosaries Nor Missals.

Well Defined

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I will walk away from
the crowds and their buzz
finding an island to float serene
on way away from cravings
looks and strong odors
to my own shadow
well defined

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hipstamaticphoto-600536406.431068

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Poem from the unpublished collection Intertextures – Crossing Rivieras, 2013.

 

An Upside Down World

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tonight
the moon is full

emptied from a thousand
engagements I lay in hot
water maybe illuminated

from the sky the silence
repose approaching
hidden from light

an upside down world
a somersault and a wriggle to

find myself wondering star under
inside some lights I turn off
before the thoughts – then the eyes

slightly vibrating
weightless in the space
I found within

 

 

hipstamaticphoto-599843334.989351

 

Now I Lay Me Down To Sleep…

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it is right by the side
of the road the Cathedral
In The Pines Cemetery

as if you could just roll
off the side of the road
dead and ready to lay

where there are no fences
but some more noise to
endure or is it a reminder

when the sun hides
at sunset behind red
blood colored clouds

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Running Uphill – The London Hours

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I will close this page
and put it away

I will have a look
at such light
lingering

I will stand eventually

get up and displace
myself in a busy store
drunk in sounds and souls

I will pick you up
later when this
wind ceases

one more time
running uphill

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IMG_3943 copy

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From the collection “The London Hours”, 2012.

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Eyes Wide Open

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we are here
softly abandoned

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glaring at the shadow of
an airplane on the ground

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one of those luminous day
where every detail is out

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for count and thanksgiving
following a time dark as

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the night upon which we
both struggled with

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eyes wide open to
no avail in fear

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On Writing

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I load on beauty
between silences
those of plants and
lack of rain

these shivering
when reefers come
are not gossip or loud
news they are stanzas

needing spaces
in between needing
solid whites an invisible
bench to sit on

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This poem is part of the collection California Notebooks 02

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Firecrest

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why not marvel

at the thin long beak

of the firecrest

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or cry tears realizing

such songs

came from a thumb

size chest

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he fit the mouth

of my cat

so little it was this

bundle of joy

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covering the sky

among trees

with his wings

soft in my palm now

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