Category Archives: Alberto Álvaro Ríos

Whirling with Alberto

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Each breath-of-a-poem begins with a phrase taken from “The Lime Orchard Woman” by Alberto Álvaro Ríos .


 
~~ 1 ~~
 
traveling circus—
the man with the kewpie dolls
pushes pins in one
 
~~ 2 ~~
 
At the silliness
of the clown with the red ball
old men are weeping.
 
~~ 3 ~~
 
as if by small bones
she could keep the scorpion
from attacking her
 
~~ 4 ~~
 
the way she begins
to bite into her heartbreak
as a ripened plum
 
~~ 5 ~~
 
At the silliness
of an ear that tries to sing,
she begins to laugh.
 
~~ 6 ~~
 
She sits and watches
as the blind man stumbles home,
his white cane broken.
 
~~ 7 ~~
 
People look at her
as though the witches spawned her
late one Friday night.
 
~~ 8 ~~
 
One centimeter
away from resurrection
it all falls apart.
 
~~ 9 ~~
 
the edge of a wall
where an old man stands alone
watching plums ripen
 
~~ 10 ~~
 
leading to his house
a trail of broken timbers
branded with hex signs
 
~~ 11 ~~
 
mountains that open
as though spells from long ago
were being broken
 
~~ 12 ~~
 
the moment to breathe
the moment she has hunted
among the house wrens

 
© 2015 by Magical Mystical Teacher
 
 
More The Sunday Whirl, Wordle 207

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Whirling with Alberto

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Each vignette begins with a phrase culled from “The Night Would Grow Like a Telescope Pulled Out” by Arizona Poet Laureate Alberto Álvaro Ríos
 


 
~~ 1 ~~
 
hear only the sounds
coming from torture chambers—
souls in deep distress
 
~~ 2 ~~
 
brown lips and thin tongues
still strong enough to lust for
things they dare not say
 
~~ 3 ~~
 
the words and the smoke—
this mysterious lotion
soothing troubled souls
 
~~ 4 ~~
 
a licorice stick
soaked in liquor of longing
to tempt the lonely
 
~~ 5 ~~
 
Phrases become birds—
chickens, wrens, owls and eagles—
when she writes poems.
 
~~ 6 ~~
 
great-grandmother’s house—
trains from Philadelphia
hurtling through her dreams
 
~~ 7 ~~
 
around the elbows
the sagging flesh reminding
her of eighty years
 
~~ 8 ~~
 
this night of summer
swaying in the front porch swing
moonbeams tease her hair
 
~~ 9 ~~
 
into plates of food
a hypnotizing potion
poured by trembling hands
 
~~ 10 ~~
 
going somewhere else
stripping off his uniform—
disgraced general
 
~~ 11 ~~
 
Here from somewhere else
I’ve come not by brains or brawn,
but by the Spirit.
 
~~ 12 ~~
 
wooden heads laughing—
tonight’s carnival gimmick
luring traffic in
 
~~ 13 ~~
 
Of all the engines,
the heart’s glad-sad-bad machine
is the mightiest.

 
© 2014 by Magical Mystical Teacher
 
 
More Poetry Pantry #222
 
More The Sunday Whirl, Wordle 182
 
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