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Showing posts from 2012

Poem for you by Paul Laraque

in my two hands
I'm holding a book on the life of Jacques Roumain
your breathing lifts your breast
It's your beauty that moves
an there's a painful human hope
protecting tomorrow from today's hell
I dream I dream of Guernica
I embrace you I embrace you
and may the voice of Lorca live on
the breathless wind stretches itself out up the sea

exact like the sword of clarity
o raging poetry from all the jungles forged
a shadow is terrified by the torch of Cesaire
and the word of Paul Eluard
cutting the knot of evil
eonfer on the dignity of  art
the evidence of crystal

I blend you with all I hold dear
you are blood in the flesh
you are saddened and smile in the eyes of peasants
and there's oxygen in the air
when your look wears the light
of our grandest summer skies
I think about the man I used to be
gone with the waves of life
I'm reborn in the root of your desire
don't say Im raving
we will pass through the Manchurian border
be it in  Vietnam or in the Congo

Sandra Cisnernos "Caramelo: A Novel"

Lala has to go to Mexico with her 6 brothers ,mother and father to visit THE AWFUL  GRANDMOTHER

.The fact that they will be going to Alcapolco doesn't seem to cheer them up as much as it should so you know it's going to be a rough time . I mean who doesn't like some sun and turf.  Unfortunately the cantankerous relationship between Lala's mother and grandmother come to a head as the grandmother
reveals a very explosive secret.

My overall impression:I felt like this novel had an homespun,organic feel to it. Very true to form alot
like " The House On Mango Street" without being a shoddy duplicate.I love how she interlaced Spanish and English. I was very impressed with her ability to bring the plot back to previous point in time without messing the flow. It was like watching a skilled juggler , she makes it seem so effortless.

Writer's style:   If I had to pick the one quality that explains why she is one of my favorite authors, I would have to say authenti…

Leaving English by Julia Alvarez

Before leaving English, I cling to words
I haven't paid attention to in years:
dirndl, and trill and sin, until the thought
of spending weeks without them is  too sad
to think about.  Come with me,I invite
my monolingual husband,so at night
you can whisper sweet nothings in my ears
against possesion by my native tongue.
Even if Spanish made me who I was
it's English now that tells me who I am.

You talk like an addict, my husband scolds.
Language is not a drug!(But I get high
working a line until I get it right,
like finding the last piece or bulb
that lights up the whole string of Christmas lights!)
My family claims I have deserted them:
One thing is learning English, another,
to think you're lost without it,por favor!
You left in exile---that was not your fault.
This passion is a second desertion.
Before leaving, I touch the shelves of books,
then close my study door reluctantly
like a child casting a longing glance
at bedtimeat her bears and dressed up dolls
posed to enact s…