From my chapbook “Reverse Commute,” published by Silver Birch Press. This poem was originally published in Big River Poetry Review under the title “Espíritu Santo.”
On October 15th, Los Angeles based Silver Birch Press published a collection of 15 poetry chapbooks, written by 15 poets, each 15 pages long. I am very excited to report that my chapbook, titled “Reverse Commute,” is among the 15. The book is called “Ides,” as it was released on the ides of October (i.e. the […]
My poem “Sick Talk,” published by Washington DC-based journal “The Potomac.”
Polish artist Jerzy Kedziora’s tight-rope sculptures had an active day recently. The sculptures are currently hanging outside of the Museum of Contemporary Art of North Miami’s campus, where I got to see them bounce during a typical tropical mid-summer afternoon Miami shower.
De mi libro “Entre domingo y domingo”…
For those of you who live and breed in Miami, or happen to be in the area, consider stopping by the Art Center at Lincoln Road this Friday April 17th from 7-9pm, where I will be reading a few poems as part of the O’Miami Poetry Festival. The event is also the official release party […]
Irish culture may be linked to St. Patrick’s day, and the heavy beer drinking involved. But, the nation is also known for the many legendary writers that came from its rolling green hills. James Joyce, William Butler Yeats and, most recently, Seamus Heaney all called Ireland their home. This year, RTE, the national broadcaster, hosted a contest aimed […]
Years of going to the farm Years of taking the walk with your mother, guests and guards From the warm house to the horses you mostly go down For an hour with your mother, guests, and guards Fenced by black wood and electric wire The narrow path has hills on both sides An indigo […]
UK publishing company Empty Mirror Books published a few of my poems on their site. Below is the first, a meditation on how having children forces you to face mortality.
I once thought I could know anything The death knowledge of the Buddha The clarifying call of Gabriel Former lives and abetting suns That enthrall worlds more able than mine I too never doubted my time supply To be the daughter of the dying father Who buries without the blow of love […]
If you read poetry, you probably know who Neruda is. However, there is a Chilean poet called Nicanor Parra who might be better. He is Neruda’s near-contemporary and is still living, aged 100. Parra said of Neruda: “let the birds sing, man talks.” Because I just encountered Parra’s “anti-poetry” and am in open-mouthed awe, I will be featuring […]
The winner of December’s “Poem of the Month” contest is just about ready to be revealed. So stay tuned…we could be announcing the results as early as tomorrow!
Bernal Hill (pictured above) boasts an unobstructed view of photogenic San Francisco. So, it is unsurprising that it spawned a poem that bears its name. The piece is by Randall Mann, an openly gay poet who often writes about life in San Francisco and who was the recipient of the prestigious Kenyon Review Prize in Poetryin 2003. […]
A very big thanks to “Pea River Journal” for publishing two of my poems. Above is the first.
A quick toast to the era of seasonal hotel stays French window frames sipped each afternoon Hats shaped in boxes Elevators rise by men on stools A candle lit at the precise corner of every room Language barriers transformed into accents With a change of attire And patent leather shoe Women named Agatha Answer […]
So honored that the magnificent A Literation Mag published two of my poems. The first is above. I’ll share the second one tomorrow. Please visit their site to learn about the great work they do to promote emerging writers.
I feel that there is always something dark and sinister looming over the poems of Sylvia Plath. Sure, her personal story, ending in suicide, hangs heavy. But, take this poem pictured above, “The Manor Garden.” From the title, one could simply expect a piece about a garden, perhaps succumbing to fall. But the nature imagery isn’t […]
I sit down slightly drunk Not enough to be great But perhaps enough to be good Let’s see The sky is clear My husband sleeps I am a wife a woman grown I shall never taste the soup I cook Tonight I traced The city clean I approach my […]
Pictured here are three of Nobel Prize-winning poet Tomas Transtromer’s “Six Winters,” framed by a dying mammoth sculpture at the La Brea Tar Pits in Los Angeles. Below are the poem’s final three winters. Out of the six, number five is my favorite. IV. Ice hangs down the edge of the roof. Icicles: the […]
It’s not like I don’t ask nice. Not like I have more than one shelf. Every night I make room, but it is for one single plate. And every afternoon it is I who sets it down. Who offers you or you or you the chance to give thanks. To […]