A long time ago I had a conversation with someone who was considering to be a man-of-letters. The person was meeting the difficult subject heads on. ‘It would be nice to write poetry‘, he ...
Poetry is a case of the loser winning. And the genuine poet chooses to lose, even if he has to go so far as to die, in order to win. … Thus, if one absolutely wishes to speak of the commitment o...
The poems in this presentation have already appeared on this blog, but I assembled them in a different format, to move closer to my long-sought goal. The poems are in three languages, all translations...
A Long Scarf and Leather Trousers, originally uploaded by loscuadernosdejulia. I made a few self-portraits outside my house yesterday, and what you see in this picture is a very long grey scarf that I...
Sobriety doth dry up all delight, And drunkenness doth drown my sense outright; There is a middle state, it is my life – Not altogether drunk, nor sober quite. Now with its joyful prime my age i...
A brief story of my discovering Alexander Pushkin and his work, as well as critical notes on the then and now reading habits and the state of language...
First of all, I have a fair bit of Scorpio in me, astrologically speaking, and so this year I have been creating “Freudian” or otherwise weirdly coincidental situations for my Piscean frie...
The poem A Thank You to the Wonders of Photography is currently one of the Challenge Poems during the National Poetry Month celebrated in the United States throughout the month of April. It could not ...
A rather unpleasant update as per 13 Dec 2008: I have just found out that the English version of the video which was in this post has been taken down on YouTube for “the violation of Community G...
D. H. Lawrence, Scent of Irises (from Amores, New York: 1916). A faint, sickening scent of irises Persists all morning. Here in a jar on the table A fine proud spike of purple irises Rising above the ...