Luis Alberto Ambroggio
HOTEL
Entrad, bienvenidos,
pasajeros cotidianos
a habitaciones sedentarias
acaso animadas
con ronquidos monolíticos
o metálicas palabras
de aparatos compañeros
en una soledad enumerada.
Cuadros, gustos ajenos
vuestros por una noche,
días que acaban a las doce
de un apurado mediodía.
Aposento distinguido
de abiertas sombras pagas.
Quizá de amor escape
en el terreno no comprometido
o aventura imaginaria
en el cuento de los niños.
Sus espejos hoy vuestras caras miran
Después otros recuerdos calcarán
como lechos fulgorosos
de soledades o placeres repetidos.
Acogida fría y perenne
del viajero en venta
o del vendedor en viaje;
ni casa ni destierro
árbol necesario
para el descanso forastero,
paredes en donde albergo yo también
mi atardecer de paso
en la fuga acuartelada del tiempo.
Me recibe con sonrisas.
Sin conocerme por mi nombre me llama,
cama promiscua,
cobra mi descanso.
Cambiará mi nombre
apenas me vaya.
Limpiarán la sombra
y otras sombras crecerán en las páginas
de un archivo fiscal de puertas.
"Check in, check out"
en el hotel precario de la vida.
Sic transit gloria mundi...
Copyright © 2008 by Luis Alberto Ambroggio (from the anthology Difficult Beauty which will be released in 2009)
HOTEL
By Luis Alberto Ambroggio
Translated by Yvette Neisser Moreno
Come in, welcome,
everyday passengers,
here are your rooms:
sedentary
perhaps lively
with monolithic snores
or metallic words
from friendly machines
in a numbered silence.
Paintings, others’ tastes
yours for a night,
days that end at noon
on a hurried mid-day.
Elegant bedroom
of paid-for open shadows.
Perhaps a lovers’ tryst
in a noncommittal terrain
or an imaginary adventure
in a children’s story.
Today its mirrors watch your faces,
later other memories will leave traces
like beds ablaze
with solitude or repeated pleasures.
The same-old cold reception
for the traveler on sale
or the salesman traveling;
neither home nor exile
much-needed shade
for the wanderer’s rest,
walls in which I also lodge
passing my dusk
in the confined escape of time.
It receives me with smiles.
Without knowing me, it calls me by name,
promiscuous bed
that charges for my rest.
They will change my name
as soon as I go.
They’ll clear away the shadow
and other shadows will fill the pages
in the fiscal archive of doors.
“Check in, check out”
in the precarious hotel of life.
Sic transit gloria mundi…
"Hotel" was previously published in "Poemas Desterrados", Academia Iberoamericana de Poesia, ed. Alicia Gallegos, Buenos Aires, 1995.
Copyright © 2008 by Luis Alberto Ambroggio (from the anthology Difficult Beauty which will be released in 2009)
MARILYN MONROE
Lo que importa es el lunar
y el ventilador que subía su falda,
acaso el perfil fotogénico de su silueta,
el rojo de los labios y las flores
que Joe DiMaggio enviaba
al mármol de Beverly Hill,
en su pared del cementerio,
religiosamente, cada año.
Sólo le basta una rosa
a la mirada del cielo.
Copyright © 2008 by Luis Alberto Ambroggio (from the anthology Difficult Beauty which will be released in 2009)
MARILYN MONROE
By Luis Alberto Ambroggio
Translated by Yvette Neisser Moreno
What matters is the beauty mark
and the fan that lifted her skirt,
perhaps the photogenic profile of her silhouette,
the red of her lips and the flowers
that Joe DiMaggio sent
to the Beverly Hills marble
at her wall of the cemetery,
religiously, every year.
Just one rose is enough
for the sky’s gaze.
"Marilyn Monroe" has been published in several newspapers and magazines in Spanish; the most recent publication was "International Poetry Review", both in Spanish and English.
Copyright © 2008 by Luis Alberto Ambroggio (from the anthology Difficult Beauty which will be released in 2009)
NAVEGANDO
¿Qué es el mar
sino un largo llanto
de lejanías?
¿Tanto espejo utiliza
el cielo para verse?
Pudiera ser
la trama de las olas
aquel sensual
diálogo con el viento
que es irreprimible.
Temo el amor,
ese mar infinito
sobre los nombres,
porque lo desconozco
porque me desconoce.
"Navegando" was previously published in Cuadernario No. 11 de la Asociación Canadiense de Hispanistas, 2007 and in TANKAS, Primavera de 2007. Asociación Prometeo de Poesía, Madrid.
Copyright © 2008 by Luis Alberto Ambroggio (from the anthology Difficult Beauty which will be released in 2009)
AT SEA
By Luis Alberto Ambroggio
Translated by Raquel Dunning
What is the sea
but a long cry
from the distance?
How much of a mirror
does the sky need to see itself?
It could well be
the web of waves
that sensual
dialogue with the wind
that is irresistible.
I fear love,
that endless sea
above names,
because I do not know it
because it does not know me.
Copyright © 2008 by Luis Alberto Ambroggio (from the anthology Difficult Beauty which will be released in 2009)
Biography:
Luis Alberto Ambroggio, American poet born in Argentina, is a Member of the North American Academy of the Spanish Language and PEN. Author of the following published books: Poemas de amor y vida (1987), Hombre del aire (1992), Oda ensimismada (1992), Poemas desterrados (1995), Los habitantes del poeta” (1997), Por si amanece: cantos de Guerra (1997), El testigo se desnuda (2002), Laberintos de Humo (2005), Los tres esposos de la noche (2005) and the bilingual collection of his poems Difficult Beauty. His texts have appeared in newspapers, magazines, anthologies of the U.S.A. (Cool Salsa, DC Poets Against the War, Poetic Voices Without Borders), Spain (The new Hispanic-American Poetry, Twenty-first Century Hispanic-American Poetry) and Latin America. His poetry has been included in texts of Literature (Pasajes, Bridges to Literatura, Breaking down barriers), and recorded in the Archives of Hispanic Literature of the Library of Congress.
Isidro Iturat
(1)
EL POZO DE AGUA
a Elis
Soñé que yo era un pozo,
soñé que eras un pozo,
que tú, yo, éramos pozo.
Éramos pozo de agua,
el mismo pozo de agua,
un solo pozo de agua.
Inmensurable agua,
y sempiterno pozo.
(1)
THE WATER WELL
for Elis
I dreamt that I was a well,
I dreamt that you were a well,
that you, and I, were a well.
We were a water well,
the same water well,
a single water well.
Unmesurable water,
and everlasting well.
(2)
SUICIDIO
Renuncia a tu ideal originario.
Da al tirano tu sangre y tus tuétanos.
A ver prefiere andar cegado.
Sé a los tuyos nadie y nada.
Idolatra un becerro
de oro, o una máquina.
Firma y acata.
Ya estás muerto.
(2)
SUICIDE
Decline your original ideal.
Give the tyrant your blood and your bone marrows.
Despite seeing prefer to walk blindly.
Be nobody and nothing for your folks.
Worship a golden
calf, or a machine.
Sign and comply.
You are already dead.
(3)
El centauro se asoma por la ventana
y la mujer dormida está hablando en sueños.
Llora y ríe, porque un centauro la rapta.
Cabalga en su sueño la mujer dormida,
cabalga en su sueño y es cabalgada.
En la selva, nadie la oye cuando chilla.
Llora y ríe como nunca en su vigilia.
El centauro la mira... por la ventana.
(3)
The centaur looks inside through the window
and the sleeping woman speaks while she dreams.
She is crying and laughing, because a centaur kidnaps her.
The sleeping woman rides in her dream,
rides in her dream, and is also ridden.
In the forest, nobody hears her when she screams.
She is crying and laughing like she’s never done in her vigil.
The centaur is staring her… through the window.
(4)
DANTE ALIGHIERI EN EL LECHO DE MUERTE
HABLA SOBRE BEATRIZ
Yo tuve a mi Beatriz en la tierra de los vivos,
el Infierno, Purgatorio, Cielo de mis manuscritos
fue un arte, fue dramaturgia, de lo que viví y vivimos.
No se fue joven tampoco, lo atestiguan nuestros hijos,
se dijo por dispensar a Maquiavelos y cínicos:
amasó el pan en mi casa y llamé a sus ojos lirios.
¡Ah, mia beatitudine , mi feliz senda al Empíreo!...,
los labios fueron materia, y los versos metafísicos.
(4)
IN HIS DEATHBED, DANTE ALIGHIERI SPEAKS ABOUT BEATRICE
I had my Beatrice in the land of the livings,
Hell, Purgatory and Heaven, of my manuscripts,
were an art, a dramaturgy, of what I lived and we lived.
She also left soon, our children are our witnesses,
it was said to dismiss the Maquiavelos and cynicals:
she kneaded bread in my house and I named her eyes lilies.
Oh, mia beatitudine, my happy way to Empirean!...
The lips were material, and the verses metaphisical.
(5)
OTRA DEFINICIÓN INFRUCTUOSA DEL TÉRMINO “POESÍA”
“Palabra rítmicamente ordenada...”,
o vehículo visible para el alma
invisible, o bien la río que mana
alimenticia, o la sed que no acaba,
mujer mistérica nuda en la cama,
dios que sopla, o una mala álgebra.
O el asombro, o el amar, y/o la rabia.
Lo pleno todo, la carente nada.
(5)
ANOTHER UNSUCCESSFUL DEFINITION OF THE TERM “POETRY”
“Rhytmicly ordered word…”,
or visible vehicle to the invisible
soul, or also the river that pours
nutritious, or the neverending thirst,
misterical nude woman on the bed,
a god that blows, or a bad algebra.
Or the astonishment, or the loving, and/or the anger.
The plentiful all, the lacking nothingness.
Copyright © 2008 by Isidro Iturat.
Biography:
ISIDRO ITURAT. Villanueva y la Geltrú, Spain, 1973. He is a writer and Spanish teacher who has ived in São Paulo, Brazil, since 2005. In 2001 he developed the poetic form called indriso, formed by two triplets and two one-line stanzas (3-3-1-1), with free use of the rhyme and the number of syllables in its verses. In 2005 he finished his first book completely composed by indrisos entitled El Manantial y otros poemas. His poetry has appeared in Lakúma-pusáki (2008, Chile), Lyrik welt (2007, Germany), Cañasanta (Number 19, 2006, Canada), Destiempos (Number 5, 2006, Mexico), Literatura & Arte (Number 1373, 2005, Brazil), Letralia (Number 114, 2004 and Number 147, 2006, Venezuela), Otras Palabras (Number 7, 2004, Spain).
Visit this author's homepage at http://www.indrisos.com
Timothy M. Kettelhut
Foolery
You're impatience.
Your feelings for me, you'd like to in all ways express.
An affinity for foreplay, you told me, you do quite profess.
Why then, are you now in such a hurry: a desire to confess?
Is it because after hours, there's been only a kiss and caress?
We'd both regret, if, I did you, in a hurry, quickly undress.
If I did things too fast, all in a rush, there would be quite a mess.
Now there was a torrent. You must not now, this flood, try to suppress.
Finally, as together we come, you would never again settle, nor regress.
In your eagerness to have me, you've wet yourself, . . . in a dream, . . . no less.
Oh my! You are impatient.
Copyright 2008 by Timothy M. Kettelhut.
National Past(I)(ME)
anti
>>>>>>>>>>>trust
no
................................boooooring.
Oh-fer what?
grab some pine phenom.
I can't buy a
"hit".
Not in this league,
rookie.
Last place three years in a row.
......Fired !!!!!!!!!!
Manager?
No ............
Players and their
c
o
n
t
r
a
c
t. $$$$$$$$$$
Say what? Line 'em up.
Owner, and own up.
You blind? Swing the bat!
Armpits and knees, can't question that ——————
What say?!
Oh $#!&#@^#%
Again?
AWW, ..........spit.
Rule book, hands in pockets,
didn't see the fan? , .........(nor care about 'em)
strike,
what zone?
Bound for muscle pound ............sterooooiiikke three. Yer outa here !$?!??$$!
Union matters deal with this:
over/no, reaction,
misguided
u m p
i
r
e
Copyright 2008 by Timothy M. Kettelhut.
Hope
A season of great hope and
change is upon us. As we have
appreciated the birth of a sunrise, and
the changes in color of the coats of
the wild, whether of land or beast, let
us too embrace all that has passed of
time and breath, and take it to help us
form a season of great hope and
change.
Copyright 2008 by Timothy M. Kettelhut.
Biography:
Timothy M. Kettelhut is well-known in the Arlington-DC taxi world as the taxi poet. He often entertains his passengers by reciting his poetry which he has self-published. So next time you take a Red Top Cab you might just happened to get a treat. Not surprisingly he has found that many passengers who would never buy a book of poetry often buy a copy he just happens to have with him. These three poems are from his collection entitled "Very Interesting" (not ! ! ! ! ! . . . . .. . poetry).
Katharina Yakovina
To view the poetry videos, click on the links below:
Biography:
"I was born in 1967.
I create a space of my art.
I made a choice between my options."
Visit this author's homepage at http://www.tcart.com