February 22-28, 2016: Silvia Curbelo and Ellen Sander

Silvia Curbelo and Ellen Sander

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Silvia Curbelo
trico17@aol.com

Bio (auto)

Silvia Curbelo’s latest collection of poems, Falling Landscape, has just been published by Anhinga Press. She is the author of a previous full-length collection, The Secret History of Water (Anhinga Press), and two chapbooks. She has received poetry fellowships from the National Endowment for the Arts, the Florida Division of Cultural Affairs, the Cintas Foundation and the Writer’s Voice, as well as the Jessica Noble Maxwell Memorial Poetry Prize from American Poetry Review. Her poems have been published widely in literary magazines, and in more than two-dozen anthologies, including The Body Electric (W.W. Norton), Poems, Poets, Poetry (Bedford/St. Martin), and the Norton Anthology of Latino Literature. A native of Cuba, Silvia lives in Tampa, Florida.

The following work is Copyright © 2016, and owned by Silvia Curbelo and may not be distributed or reprinted in any form whatsoever without written permission from the author.

El Patio de Mi Casa

On the last night we go as far as the edge
of the field. Then back. All around us
shadows of trees, the unattended rose garden.
The house hums with what we mean to say.

Time is a figure at the edge of a snapshot.
A sapling, a spigot, a darkness, a face.
We make walls from what the night
gives back, the stone of what we name

and name again. The black sky
is not a symbol. The child’s bed is not a raft.
There is no narrative but this
thick gathering of clouds, this leaky roof,

as if the threat of rain could be anyone’s story.
When I open my eyes the patio is empty,
rooted in sleep, equal parts mirror
and dream.

After the installation by Maria Brito

 

 



Ellen Sander
usasander@yahoo.com

Bio (auto)

Ellen Sander, a pioneering rock journalist of the sixties, incubated her poetry in Bolinas in the seventies. She migrated to L.A. and gave readings in the eighties and nineties. She moved to Belfast in 2006, from Beijing. She was Poet Laureate of Belfast, Maine in 2013 and 2014 and continues to live there. She is the author of Trips; Rock Life in the Sixties, the poetry broadsides Craters and Autumnal and the chapbook Stand of Herons, as well as a series of sixties rock journalism collections, Ellen Sander’s Classic Rock Readers, in the Kindle store. She is widely published in journals and anthologies, most recently anthologized in Cross-Strokes, Poetry between Los Angeles and San Francisco. Visit Ellen on the web at www.ellensander.com

The following work is Copyright © 2016, and owned by Ellen Sander and may not be distributed or reprinted in any form whatsoever without written permission from the author.


September North Northeast

The butter yellow finches are drabbing down
as well the ruby throated hummingbirds’
crimson collarpoints are fading.
The light is going burnished and even
before the first leaf blushes
rising wind carries the soft aroma of change.

Writers, like squirrels, scoop up
school supplies on sale, fresh
paper, gel pens, notepads, clips
that sit in stacks on the desk
fresh in their wrappers
begging to be filled with ideas.


From The Moon

–what happens when the moon looks back at us?

shadows chase bobcats
we look at each other
as if reason were forgotten

you must be enchanted
eyes so bright, that
see so far must deeply
know these ovals and phases

darkness crosses your face
exhales a cool slow
touch that lingers its design
on outlying orbs and back
to your teeming horizon

this aching pull away from you
is destiny; the strain is sweet
and filled with breathless question