• Robert L. Giron

Issue 20 — Luis Alberto Ambroggio, Isidro Iturat, Timothy M. Kettelhut, Katharina Yakovina

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:


It Was


Every Day


Soul & Body



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

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