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From La Luna Asoma by Federico Garcia Lorca When the moon emerges it loosens the bells and the paths appear untraversable. When the moon emerges the sea sweeps over the land and the heart is overtaken— cut off by what is...

From Federico Garcia Lorca The ladybug combs her hair in her gown of silk. The neighbors smile through their rear windows. The ladybug dresses each curl on her head. The parrots scream from the patios, the planets fly by. The...

from St. John of the Cross To ignore the created and inferior, to always remember the creator, to give full attention to the interior, and to be open to love the Beloved Lover. ***** Suma de Perfección by Saint John of the Cross...

The sky shouted and the rose replied, unfolding early in the cold. “Hold back!” I would have said, instead, I saw your ruffling hair, your pause, wayless as a Cavalier without his king, turning a biddable ear to hear...

I’m lying by the open window with the smell of loam mocking my senses, and a magpie beats its wings and the air shudders like the crack of a bat when wood meets leather at ninety miles an hour during what I see as the...

I shot the sheriff was the admission Bob Marley wailed into the stage mic and thus to the thousands of followers cheering on the grass before him, none of whom, of course, were expected to come up with a judicial analysis of the...

My hands are cold this morning. They often are – around the clock in fact, a compromised circulation keeping the extremities a good ways from the central fire. Eric Clapton’s nickname is Slowhand. That is a cool nickname...

Body maps on the wall in medical offices make us think that doctors know our insides from a cursory look outside. Psychotherapists reach their conclusions without even the benefit of wall hangings. Advances in medicine have...