odes of
all Nerudas
by Roberto Lavidez
I like you
as clay
and sand
I hold you
and shape
you
as you
shaped me
I touch you
and you open
like a faded
rose that
revives for
me alone
my breast
opens like
a bough
light’s
poppies
quiver in
our hearts
the water
flows and
sings
the sky
overhead
is a warm
corolla
your heart
of earth
lent
fertility
and force
to my songs
odes of all
colors
and sizes
seraphic
azure or
violent
odes to eat
odes to dance
odes to track
to be and
not to be
between
waves
that flooded
the universe
with light
of song
I paused
suddenly
to dedicate
a line of
my ode
you would
think that
horses were
galloping
across the
sky
white
mountains
fall
chairs and
armchairs
fall
and so
it was
that night
shadow
and space
earth
and time
something
that flows
and falls
and passes
oh
the land
of nights
we have
never lived
©robertolavidez2014
when am I not
Saul Williams
by Roberto Lavidez
if I am now
when am I
not?
I am
the storm
that will
make your
sunny days
unbearable
there is
no escape
from the
time and
place
where
fiction
occurs
the game
of happily
ever after
love is
a cruel
farce
I cry out
from the
sinew
out from the
agonized
clutch
of my chest
there is a
meditation
on dying
on mornings
when a song
is played
and the
only crying
of bitter
pain is
pressed
into pillows
suddenly
everything is
so comforting
lakes frozen
to the
bottom
a forest
cathedral
a trembling
voice
that sings
there was
no way
to say
goodbye
that last day
I tried
the guilt
that I feel
is freedom
I say
I am
the apple
that announces
the gravity
of a given
situation
how sad
it is
to be
revered
by everyone
except those
your heart
bleeds
for the
most
if we could
stop and smell
the flowers
we planted
long ago
maybe
I will
find it
under
the rug
or swept
into a corner
that I
never visit
are we
so loving
that we love
what hates us
that we love
what breaks us
who told you
you could
expose
your wings
©robertolavidez2014
Edward Thomas
out of the
wood
of thoughts
by Roberto Lavidez
I have
come
a long way
today
on a
strange
bridge
alone
some eyes
condemn
the earth
they gaze
upon
some wait
patiently
till they know
far more
than earth
can tell them
time swims
before me
making as
a day
a thousand
years
I could
not be
as the sun
nor should
I be
content
to be
as little
as the bird
or as
mighty
as the sun
we look and
understand
we cannot
speak
except in
trifles
and words
the most
weak
it is enough
to smell
to crumble
the dark
earth
the oak
saw the
ages
pass in
the forest
they were
a host
but their
memories
are lost
if I flew
now
to another
world
I’d fall
I sought
for nests
wild flowers
oak
sticks
and moles
both far
and near
out of the
wood of
thoughts
that grows
by night
to be
cut down
by the
sharp axe
of light
from
somewhere
in the
bushes
by a bird
over and
over again
a pure
thrush word
sometimes
a thought
is drowned
by it
sometimes
out of it
climbs
all thoughts
begin
or end
upon this
sound
and all
was earth’s
or all
was sky’s
no difference
endured
between
the two
if I should
lose my
head
why…
I should
want nothing
more
©robertolavidez2014
the world
of Lorca
by Roberto Lavidez
out in
the world
no one
sleeps
no one
no one
let there be
a panorama
of open eyes
and bitter
inflamed
wounds
agony
agony
dream
ferment and
dream
this is the
world
my friend
agony
agony
the naked
look on
my face
trembling
in alcohol
and launching
incredible
ships
through the
anemones
of the piers
I want the
powerful
air from
the deepest
night to
blow away
flowers and
inscriptions
from the
arch where
you sleep
the dead
decompose
beneath the
city clocks
war passes by
in tears
followed by
a million
gray rats
who could
imagine my
sadness
the look
on my face
was mine
but now
isn’t me
how hard
they try
how hard
the horse
tries to
become
a dog
how hard
the dog tries
to become
a swallow
how hard
the swallow
tries to
become
a bee
how hard
the bee
tries to
become
a horse
©robertolavidez2014
Soviet writers
laugherize laughily
( Khlebnikov,
Akhmatova,
Pasternak,
Voznesensky,
Mandelstam )
by Roberto Lavidez
it is to
tear away
the outer layer
from objects
to see
the world
without it’s
wrappings
vicious
schemes
and bargee
walls
clearings
dissolve
into us
as night
dissolves day
as the windows
dissolve into
the garden
and suck in
the lilac
and only
kisses are
left to us
as fuzzy as
the little bees
that die when
they leave
their hive
what if
the universe
must wear
a mask
what if
there are
no latitudes
that don’t
ask to have
their mouths
puttied up
for the
winter?
you and I
are a
mountain
of grief…
you and I
will never
meet
it seems
to me
I am
speeding
in a cart
in a jolting
dash across
a frozen
field
my life
has been
secretly
changed
and flows
along
another
course
past other
landmarks
and I
do not
know
my banks
o laugh
it out
you laughletes!
that laugh
with laughs
that laugherize
laughily
slowly
I get out
my glasses
and it’s really
as though
the chimneys
craned
their necks
and the
muse’s barely
heard voice…
and we will
cherish
this hardly
audible
rustle of
feet for a
thousand
years…
then at night
poetry
I’ll squeeze
you dry
to the
health
of my
greedy
paper
I’ll pass
as image
enters into
image
and as one
object
cuts through
another
it’s a disgrace
and signifies
nothing
to be the
story on
everyone’s
lips
it is
unbearable
when
undressed
in all the
posters
in all the
papers
having
forgotten
that there is
a heart
in the
centre
the more
I thought:
and I too
out of crude
weight
will some day
create a thing
of beauty
for the quiet
joy of living
and breathing
tell me
to whom
should I
offer
thanks?
©robertolavidez2014
the song of
Jim
Harrison
by Roberto Lavidez
I’m an
old man
surging
upriver
on the
back of
my dream
horse
that I
haven’t
seen
since I
was ten
out of
almost
nothing for
practical
purposes
nothing
then back
as ancient
children
to the great
nothing
again
the song
of man
and water
moving to
the ocean
nothing to
console
the morning
but the dried
grasshopper
on my desk
who fell apart
at my
powerful
touch
I see today
that everyone
on earth
wants the
answer to
the same
question
but none
has the
language
to ask it
in truth
I am puzzled
most in life
by nine
horses
many of us
live full term
never seeing
the bullet
the empty
plate of
hunger
the invisible
noose of
disease
a few years
back
I began to
lose the
world of
people
I’ve spent
a lifetime
trying to
learn the
language
of the dead
of course
we are
condemned
to life
without
parole
until the
gods usher
us in to our
executioners
who live in
a hot
windowless
room
always dark
you walk
through
doorways
in the mind
you can’t
walk out
then one day
you discover
that you’ve
learned
to fly
were it not
for the new
moon
my sky
would
collapse
tonight
so fed by
the waters
of memory
on a
cool night
there is
a break
from the
struggle of
becoming
I suppose
that’s why
we sleep
we want
to sleep
a long time
not forever
but then
to sleep
a long time
becomes
forever
doom
should be
ashamed
of itself
it’s so
ordinary
happening
to billions
of creatures...
would
I still
love the
creek if
I lasted
forever?
©robertolavidez2014
searching for
John Milton’s
Paradise
by Roberto Lavidez
as one
from sad
dismay
recomforted
and after
thoughts
disturbd
submitting to
what seemd
remediless
those thoughts
that wander
through
eternity
to perish
rather
swallowed up
and lost
in the wide
womb of
uncreated
night
for man
to tell
how human
life began
is hard
for who
himself
beginning
knew
of all the
trees in
paradise
that bear
delicious
fruit
so various
not to
taste
that onely
tree of
knowledge
planted by
the tree
of life
nor did
they not
perceave
the evil
plight
in which
they were
or the fierce
pains
not feel
how many
ages as
the years
of men
this universe
we have
possest
and rul’d
in manner
at our will
th’ affairs
of earth
because
wee freely
love
as in our
will to love
or not
in this
we stand
or fall
o heav’nly
love shall
outdoo
hellish
hate
giving to
death
and dying
to redeeme
so dearly
to redeem
what hellish
hate
to prayer
repentance
and obedience
due though
but endevord
with sincere
intent
mine ear
shall not
be slow
mine eye
not shut
o innocence
deserving
paradise
if ever
then
then had
the sons
of god
excuse
to have bin
enamour’d
at that sight
but in
those hearts
love
unlibidinous
reign’d
nor jealousie
was understood
the injur’d
lover’s hell
©robertolavidez2014
