Poetry Series 2: Loteria Cards and Fortune Poems A Book Of Lives

Okay. Another cultural and interesting selection this time before we get to some classic authors. This is a collaborative project between a poet and an artist. It is artwork and poetry based on the Mexican game of chance, la loteria. Again, another collection I suggest you fully examine. But for today, I chose the final poem and indeed one of the more powerful. La Rosa.



You called my name,

I remember-you painted
my storms after the century burned. You left me.
My days, well, you said, they were lives
without discovery, you used that word-
discovery. My rouge voices fascinated you,
the unkempt nights in my tresses, all
radiations drawn in-between my heart and
your heart. We were Einstein's chalk-lines
crossing over stars and wide seas
into timelessness. Yes, the lascivious poisons
of my thorns were necessary, they were the steps
I took to reach my heights. Each kiss,
an ascension. Now, the vase stands as a reminder
of your ashes. The house, arranged in perfect
shadows, an illusion too. I flourish with these
new silences & new loves. I use the word silences

for sky.

Poetry Series 1: The Astrakhan Cloak

This collection is unique because it features poems by Nuala Ni Dhomhnnaill in Gaelic (Irish) and English translations by Paul Muldoon. The Gaelic is on the even pages with the English on the odds--side by side. I really suggest you check out the whole collection. The poem I picked for this series is one that has relevance to recent times though it was written in 1991. Without further ado, The View from Cabinteely.



A swivel-wing of light. The suburban drone
kicking in after one more hopeless day.
Kids home from school. Grown-ups from the job.
Doors and windows flashing. Grimaces. Grins.

A car backfires in the next avenue.
The bicycle-brigade in headlong, straggling retreat.
Smoke rising from chimneys. Those shades
behind lace shades, cooking up a storm.

In back-yards footballs score direct hits
between pines. A collie and an English setter
dispute a bit of green. The thunk of a hurley-ball.
Two magpies on the roof, giving it their all.

The picture-windows now have a blue glow
where families huddle round their TV screens
for news of the missiles and smart bombs
falling on the suburbs of Baghdad, Tel Aviv, Dhahran.

January, 1991

Poetry Series

I got the thought earlier today of doing a series were I pick a poem, copy it into here and people can discuss it. Most of them will be not-so-well-known poems from well-known poets. However, tonight I will be looking at a book of Irish poems so as to start off with something very unique and different. I hope to post it tomorrow.