Collected Poems by Rennon Mariano | Tenderloin - San Francisco

Vanity I

 John—–Gloves on, Scarff to the wind, Jacket snugg,

I feel the power, I am that POWER!!!! And where is precision, by golly I be that PRECISION; and now I have

become the SPEED, (floors the accelerator) Ladies and gents

San Francisco and other poetic dreams | Edited by Don Brennan

San Francisco and other poetic dreams is made possible by Writers workshop 146 Leavenworth St. San Francisco CA. Edited by Don Brennan. Program Director at jennywileysf@hotmail.com, or drop by the Community Arts Studio.

Desperation is the raw material of drastic change. Only those who can leave behind everything they have ever believed in can hope to escape. William S. Burroughs.

San Francisco y otros textos (poemas trilingües: español, inglés, portugués), de Juan Carlos Vásquez

"English poems, translation by Jay Sánchez, Rennon Mariano & Keith O'Donnell"

Way

 

After I Jumping,  

I May regret and wish to return to the platform,

Too late  Falling,   Falling.

 

After falling, A whip splits my spine,

all that I was in life is but a silhouette marked

by a chalk outline.

 

And what if I shot myself ?

The Index in its depth

feeling all the weight,

 these spasms like dread discharges

«Addi», a poem by Rennon Mariano

Addi Why?

Why do you disturb my sleep?

Oh Addi sometimes I feel you take my will.

I am helpless. Addi, Hell-ples, Help-less:…..HELP

My knees they are not there today, they were yesterday

«To the sea», a poem by Silvina Faure

I marvel at the sea for, in its vastness,

It neither takes a rest, nor sleeps.

Beneath the apparent surface of fake calmness

There is much more than what our eyes can see.

From United States: Lesson Learned in Chicago & Gang girl, two poems by Yolanda Nieves. Bilingual English-Spanish

Lesson Learned in Chicago 

You strut in with gang signs in your eyes,

I arrive with books under my arms.

You have lived on the streets where

the cry of your mother has become broken glass,

your stepfather's belt buckle a scar on the edge of your eye,

his fist a split bone in your nose.

Selected Poems of Francisco Álvarez Koki

Your body's punctuation 

From this point I wonder. . .

About the ellipsis and the commas

Only familiar to your body and me.

I’m now filled not only with sadness

But also with the geography of silence.

Sonata to a body bathing in a tub 

Like a vessel, the bathtub

Rocked you in time,

And I was your silence

Across the water.

With the index finger of a tear | Wafi Salih

Wafi Salih, 1965, venezuelan poet. She is called a master of contemporary haiku. 

She is Magister in Latinoamerican Literature from the Andes University with a doctoral project in the field of history and 19 different publications on: essay, poetry, story and theater. She is

San Francisco and other poetic dreams | Juan Carlos Vásquez

Third floor

I Tie and Untie myself 

and count to three, 

it is incomplete, 

and an empty longing, 

full of symbols that mean nothing

and I create heavenly memories

that soon demand of me, 

cutting my time in half.

A heavy sleep arrives before