poemakontsa
@poemakontsa
Former poète maudit, RIP 2021. 2024-25 Pushcart nominee for most Proustean heartbreak. Montalean longing, Lorca pinning. I have to give you up again And I can't. I am after the lost sign, the single pledge you graced me with. And hell is certain
A Mario Benedetti, on the corruption of love. Il Coure These days nobody carves on walls or on three trunks luis + maria
I really like this one on Rimbaud by Vittorio Sereni He disappeared, he slipped away into his house of stones and collapsing sand and when the desert comes back to life it hurls that name at us again in a long shiver.
Estela a Arthur Rimbaud Álvaro Mutiz hace tanto que el olvido trabaja tus poderes
A Murilo Mendes in the original for my 2.4 Portuguese speaking readers. Noturno Resumido A noite é uma soma de sambas que eu ando ouvindo há muitos anos.
Bogotá poet Álvaro Mutis, in translation. On what poetry is Each poem Each poem a slow shipwreck of desire, a creaking of the masts and the rigging that bear the weight of life
Poetry book haul by the sea. Álvaro Mutis, in Spanish and Portuguese. Brazilian modernist Murilo Mendes An anthology of Modern Greek poetry.
Fetching for salvation by the sea with Uruguayan poet Mario Benedetti. The Silence of the Sea but when these eyes grow tired of office floors and wait between fields and hills ... then I really feel sunk and only the sea can save me.
Trying to pray with Mexican poet José Emilio Pacheco New Sisyphus Breathe deep There Good Now push Your grain of sand
Poetry book mail: order placed. The anthology of Uruguayan poet Mario Benedetti! ❤️❤️
Oof. Neruda at his melancholy best is 💔💔💔 A dream of trains I was alone in the loneliness of the train; but more than that other solitudes had gathered their luggage together waiting for passage like the poor on the platforms
Because Julio Cortázar made me think of a train as an aluminum swan, this poem by Neruda, one of my favorites of his, on trains. A dream of trains Or perhaps I am only a passenger down on his luck between waking and dreaming
Stunning Julie Suk for my night readers. On loss, longing, decay. Yesterday What we knew we didn't know, recalling only the threat of ice, a hint of rain, or a dip in the pool of desire.
An early Julio Cortázar in the original. On haunts. Fantasma paso con mi blancura, en alaridos de pero loco, y toco, cuando muerdo la sombra, mi castigo de saberme.
Trying to pray with Mark Strand Keeping things whole We all have reasons for moving I move to keep things whole.
A very short poem in homage to Pablo Neruda by a young Cortázar. In the original, for my 2.4 Spanish readers Neruda y busco definirte en la figura que detras de las cosas es testigo
An eviscerating love poem by Marialuz Albuja Bayas Me lobas el alba y me asustas amor aullando siempre rojo y siempre vivo.
The Architecture of Ruin Julie Suk No vaulting hosannas, the chalice and wine of remembrance long removed, as were the tapestries, as was the incense of flesh not yet carrion, not yet stringing off into sorrow, base silence
A stunning exercise on loss and sorrow by Julie Suk Architecture of Ruin At a distance: seemingly intact piers, dark recesses, blind arcades