POETRY

He wrote poems whose philosophical dimensions transcend any region. Although his verse forms are traditional, he was a pioneer in the interplay of rhythm and meter. Robert Frost, born San Francisco (Mar. 26, 1874), and dead Boston (Jan. 29, 1963). At the age of 38, he sold the farm moving with his family to England, where he could devote himself …

THE WAKE We saw the wake, but nothing of the boat, because it was happiness that had passed by. They gazed at each other, deep in their eyes a perception at last of the promised clearing, where great stags were running in all their freedom. No hunter entered that country without tears. It was the next day, after a night …

LIVE, FLESH Rise up corpse and walk nothing new under the yellow sun, the last of the last of the coins of gold, the light that flakes away, under the layers of time, the lock on the breaking heart. A thread of silk, a thread of lead, a thread of blood after these waves of silence. Signs of love’s black …

SPORTS GOODS Brave as a postage stamp. He went his way, gently clapping his hands to count his footsteps. His heart as red as a wild boar, beat beat, like a butterfly, pink and green, from time to time he planted a little flag of silk, when he had marched enough. He sat down for a rest and fell asleep, …

MIRROR, MIRROR EYE SEA It pains me when I look the mirror in Her eyes, I see a night robbed from its stars. A portrait dead inside, A Sol that lost its glee. Dreamt all dreams away. One thing remains too glow, the Razor came to play! The Silver beast carves a crevasse through the reddened sea. Gazed upon by …

UTOPIAN I see the world getting smaller and smaller, untill it finally fades the taste of red wine still in my mouth, soothing me knowing in the back of my mind this place isn’t been made for you and me’. My arm hanging out the window, my fingers playing with the wind, fantasizing how it would be, to live this …

DIGITS I am struggling with digits, digits juggle in my head. Digits tumble and they jumble on the paper I just read, every time I try to capture, such a bouncing numeral, it teases me by dissipating, becoming quite undoable. Give me a bucket filled with letters, I make sense of everything I arrange and rearrange, and I make the …

VENICE > There is a glorious City in the Sea. The Sea is in the broad, the narrow streets, ebbing and flowing; and the salt sea-weed clings to the marble of her palaces. No track of men, no footsteps to and fro, lead to her gates. The path lies o’er the Sea, invisible; and from the land we went, as …

ON THE EXTINCTION OF THE VENETIAN REPUBLIC > Once did She hold the gorgeous east in fee; and was the safeguard of the west: the worth of Venice did not fall below her birth, Venice, the eldest Child of Liberty. She was a maiden City, bright and free; no guile seduced, no force could violate; and, when she took unto …

Despite making few forays beyond the arts, his versatility in the disciplines he took up was of such a high order. Michelangelo Buonarroti (1475/1564) was an Italian Renaissance painter, but also sculptor, architect, poet, and engineer. He is considered a contender for the title of the archetypal Renaissance man, along with his rival and fellow Leonardo da Vinci. CELESTIAL LOVE …