Tag: puerto varas

poetry

culture, one word at a time / cultura, una palabra a la vez

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culture, one word at a time / cultura, una palabra a la vez

here we learn
of a blue
that is not blue

calling the sky-blue
celeste azul
would be like
mistaking pink
for red

this celestial blue
stands apart
not of this world

but here also there is no space
between heaven and sky
son iguales
ciel

no boundary between the seen and unseen
between life as we know it
and faith in more

*

aquí aprendemos
de un azul
eso no es azul

llamando al cielo azul
celeste azul
seria como
rosa equivocado
para rojo

este azul celestial
se destaca
no de este mundo

pero aquí tampoco hay espacio
entre el cielo y el cielo
son iguales
ciel

sin límite entre lo visible y lo invisible
entre la vida tal como la conocemos
y fe en más

poetry

Tronador

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Tronador

who knows what else
lies on the horizon
when a big white bulk
with a restless fiery heart
goes neatly undetected
for four sprawling days?

we miss so much
of all that is
including the storm clouds
hovering over
the beloved’s head

poetry

garbled

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garbled

I remember a time
I could run my finger across your forehead
and set things right

now I gush mouthfuls of words
that hold no comfort
and I fear your heart is moving away
outside mine

but after midnight, it’s just us awake
and in the stillness
you tell me a story we both understand
about unfounded fear
and losing parts of oneself
and then we know
in the dark together
we are truly loved well
whatever we might say
however we might fail

poetry

other people’s problems

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other people’s problems

how am I harmed
by caged children
sleeping on floors?

how am I affected
by coal miners
ordered to dig more
while koalas burn?

how am I bothered
by the mother detained
at the airport
once the rules changed?

how am I inconvenienced
by the grandmother
cast off the voter rolls?

how am I troubled
by the appointed agency head
whose goal is
to dismantle the agency?

how am I damaged
by a man who grabs women
and gets elected
then appoints men who grab women
to be judges in the courts
where men who grab women
get off?

how am I diminished
when one boss
earns in one minute
more than three times
what a worker makes in a year?
and now that boss will keep more
while the workers keep less?

these are other people’s problems
not mine
my only worry is
I’m losing my humanity

poetry

a poet paying taxes

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a poet paying taxes

it’s time to add up every pen and pencil
notebook business card visor
from the last year
what did I use to make what I made?
then I’ll pay my town their tiny portion

I don’t mind the tithe –
it’s the terrible reckoning,
weighing what little went in versus out,
reading the silent critical subtext
embedded in the unassailably impartial numbers;
it’s the unflattering appraisal
of the value of my time
here –

that’s what I’m avoiding tonight
wrapped in a wool blanket
with the laptop decidedly closed

maybe tomorrow I’ll have the strength
to add the columns up
or rather
subtract what it all cost me

poetry

home

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home

a place we unpack
where there’s more than one key
and these strangers may be neighbors
there’s a rhythm and a knowing
of what comes next
at the grocery store
we can buy family-sized food
and next week’s events
on the notice board mean something
it’s a place to hang up our packs
for a spell
and dream about the same vista
for more than one night