Year of the Horse 4712

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Han Gan T'ang Dynasty, 780

Tanka for the Year of the Horse  4712

Iron-shod, the horse,        

hoof-sparks flying, mane and tail

blowing, charges, free

in its quest of new pastures, 

faith its guide, valor its grace.

       
------------------------------------------------- © Rafael Jesús González 2014

Tanka para el año del caballo 4712

Herrado el caballo

pesuñas chispeando, melena y cola

sopladas, corre, libre

en su busca de nuevos pastos

la fe su guía, el valor su gracia.

            ------------------------------------------© Rafael Jesús González 2014

Li Gonglin (1049–1106) Song Dynasty

 

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Pete Seeger (May 3, 1919 - January 27, 2014)

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---The Singer and His Banjo

------------------------for Pete Seeger


How can I keep from singing?
he asked hefting his banjo,
machine he claimed
surrounded hate
and forced it to surrender.
We sang with him
that we would overcome
---------(someday),
asked where
had all the flowers gone,
and as we marched imagined
all sorts of things
to do if we had a hammer.

Gone the way of flowers now,
the old comrade leaves us
to our singing, our marching
with our little hammers
to bring down citadels of injustice,
our teaspoons to weight and make
the see-saw of power teeter
our way, overcome the demons
-----and armies of cold angels,
----------and keep despair at bay.





--------------------© Rafael Jesús González 2014


   

 Yes! magazine poster by Michael Bowman

---El cantor y su banjo

-----------=--------a Pete Seeger


¿Cómo dejar de cantar?
preguntó levantando su banjo
máquina que dijo
cercaba al odio
y lo forzaba a rendirse.
Cantábamos con él
que venceríamos
-----(algún día)
preguntábamos a donde
se habían ido las flores
y al marchar imaginábamos
todo tipo de cosas  
que hacer si tuviéramos martillo.

Ya ido como las flores
nos deja el viejo compañero
a nuestro cantar, nuestro marchar
con nuestros martillitos
para derribar las ciudadelas de injusticia,
nuestras cucharitas para pesar y hacer
balancear el sube-y-baja del poder
en nuestro favor, vencer a los demonios
----y ejércitos de ángeles fríos
-----------y alejar el desespero.





----------------------------------© Rafael Jesús González 2014

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3rd Annual Valentine's Day Reading

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Pandemonium Press invites you to

3rd Annual Valentine's Day Reading

Featured writers

Rafael Jesús González

Sharon Coleman

Robert Pesich

Anthony Pino

Gerardo Omar Marín on flute

Friday, February 14, 2014

8:00 - 10:00 PM

Folk and Fine Art Gallery

1861-A Solano Ave.

(cross-street The Almeda, west side of Oaks Theater)
Berkeley, California

Come early and enjoy art opening The 1920s 

Book Table

Latest books from featured writers and Pandemonium Press

We accept PayPal and Bitcoin

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Aquarius

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------------Acuario


A Acuario,
---el airoso,
------fijo en su servicio,
lo vigila Urano desde lejos;
Saturno le pesa como plomo
y su luz como granate ardiente
destella en el cántaro de amatista
que carga Acuario,
----sus tobillos, sus pantorrillas
----bañados en el aire fijo
----de sus ideales luminosos.



----------------© Rafael Jesús González 2014




-------------Aquarius


Aquarius,
---the graceful,
------at ease in his service,
is watched by Uranus from afar;
Saturn weighs on him like lead
& its light like a burning garnet
bounces sparks on the amethyst jar
that Aquarius carries,
----his ankles, his calves
----bathed in the fixed air
----of his luminous ideals.





-------------------© Rafael Jesús González 2014
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riverbabble 24, Winter 2014

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riverbabble 24 --------s Winter 2014

Buenos Aires, Argentina by Christopher Novak

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riverbabble 24

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Featured Poet
                                             Sharon Coleman:    Cold Angels


Poetry
  
Rafael Jesús González:
         Lamento sin llanto / Lament Without Tears
         Me han dicho / I Was Told

Laura McCullough:
          The Other Temple
          The Dark Lake by the Sea

Christopher Mulrooney:
          the strawberry festival
          a cowboy poem

Sheryl L. Nelms:
          Black Vermillion Crossing
          Texas Hill Country

Felice Aull:   City Hurricane

Amy Neill Bebergal:   Unclaimed Treasure

Fern G. Z. Carr:    Transatlantic Passage

Michael Collins:    Shards for Sophia

William Doreski:   Our Local Geyser

Joanne Faries:   The Worst

Karen Greenbaum-Maya:   Our Lady of the Red Potatoes

KJ Hannah Greenberg:    Pamela's Poem: Cabbage and Milk Thistle

Joan McNerney:   Opening Layered Blindness

Suchoon Mo:    A Yellow Bird

Edward Mycue:   Gardening

James B. Nicola:   Puddle in the Parkway

Robert Pesich:   Cup Reading

Anita Pulier:   A Moment in Time

Sandra Storey:   Up Country

John Swain:   A Golden Bird

Phibby Venable:   Skyline

Anne Whitehouse:   After the Apocalypse

Prose Poems

Chuck Taylor:
          By Way of Explanation
          To the Commissioner of Bubble Gum

Sarah Winn:   Skyless

Haibun

Melissa Grunow:   Love Where There Is No Love

Fiction

Cynthia Benson:   Embracing Beauty

Chris Dungey:   Prep Work

Tony Press:   A Nica in Blighty

John Richmond:   The Rogue Dream

Garrett Rowlan:   Closing Credits

James Shaffer:   Burden of Proof

Hao C. Tran:   Ghosts

Alice Whittenburg:   The Trap of Beauty

Flash Fiction

Ted Chiles:
           No Need to Huff-an-Puff
           Fleet

Chella Courington:
           Silver Talisman
           The Woman Named for a Saint

Cecele Kraus:   A Passionate Bequest

Tony Press:   American Beauties

Play

Bara Swain:   Sadie (monologue)

Photography

Christopher Novak:   Buenos Aires, Argentina

Then all melted away dewily in the grey air: all was silent. Ah! She glanced at him as she bent forward quickly, a pathetic little glance of piteous protest, of shy reproach under which he coloured like a girl. He was leaning back against the rock behind. Leopold Bloom (for it is he) stands silent, with bowed head before those young guileless eyes.

                                                                    JAMES JOYCE, Ulysses, p.300. 13, 741-745.

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or from
the publisher: pandemoniumpress@gmail.com
_________________________________

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riverbabble
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full moon: Mirror Moon

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© Marie Louise Living 2014 

 

---------Luna espejo


Mi amigo me dice
que más que todo
la luna está hecha de vidrio
por lo cual cuando llena
tanto refleja la luz del sol.
Lo que yo creo es que
la luna es el escorial
de todo espejo roto en la Tierra
---------por accidente tal vez
--------------o por rabia
cuando preguntándoles
— espejo, espejo en la pared . . . —
no nos agradan sus respuestas.

---------------------------© Rafael Jesús González 2014

--------------Mirror Moon


My friend tells me
that more than anything
the moon is made of glass
for which when full
she reflects so much light of the sun.
What I believe is that
the moon is the dump-heap
of all the mirrors broken on the Earth
-------by accident perhaps
-----------or through rage
when asking them,
“mirror, mirror on the wall . . .”
their answers do not please us.


  


------------------------------© Rafael Jesús González 2014

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Martin Luther King Jr. (1/15/29 - 4/4/68)

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Martin Luther King Jr.
by Yousul Karsh

----------After the Lecture

---------------------------for Martin Luther King Jr.
A woman said I was not polite
to the opposition,
that I was harsh
and did not encourage
discourse.

Perhaps if I were Christ,
I could say, “Forgive them
----for they know not what they do.”
Or the queen, and apologize
for stubbing my executioner’s toes.

But only if I knew
the executioners
----were mine only.

What courtesy have I the right to give
to them who break the bones,
----the souls of my brothers,
------------------my sisters;
deny bread, books
----to the hungry,
----the children;
--------medicine, healing
--------to the sick;
roofs to the homeless;

who spoil the oceans,
----lay waste the forests
--------and the deserts,
violate the land?

Affability on the lips
of outrage
is a sin and blasphemy
----I’ll not be guilty of.



----------© Rafael Jesús González 2014






--------Después del Discurso

------------------------a Martin Luther King Jr.

Una mujer me dijo que no fui cortés
con la oposición,
que fui duro
y que no animé
discusión.

Tal vez si fuera Cristo,
pudiera decir — Perdónalos
----que no saben lo que hacen. —
O la reina, y disculparme
por haber pisarle el pie a mi verdugo.

Pero solamente si supiera
que los verdugos
fueran solamente míos.

¿Qué cortesía tengo el derecho a darles
a los que quiebran los huesos
----y las almas de mis hermanos,
--------------------mis hermanas;
les niegan el pan, los libros
----a los hambrientos,
----a los niños;
--------la medicina, el sanar
--------a los enfermos;
techos a los desamparados;

que estropean los mares,
----que destruyen los bosques
--------y los desiertos,
violan la tierra?

Afabilidad en los labios
de la furia justa
es pecado y blasfemia
----de la cual no seré culpable.



---------© Rafael Jesús González 2014

Martin Luther King Jr.
by Tony Spina

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