I.
A chaos of nettle and weeds
chokes the garden
tightens the earth
II.
A prickly nettle clears
her throat when she
announces her scream
III.
A spindly nettle obstructs
the view tamping down and
holds the house hostage
IV.
A nettle attached to a linen
skirt tangles her up and trips
her down in consecutive order
V.
Nettles and weeds blossom
whilst impulses flower
and burn in sequential order
All artwork, photos, and text © Copyright 2008-2009 Liliana Almendarez unless indicated otherwise. All Rights Reserved. Any downloading, copying or use of images on this website is strictly prohibited without express written consent by Liliana Almendarez.
Wednesday, August 19, 2009
Monday, August 17, 2009
Masa
she moves so fast she is motionless
--Ilya Kaminsky
The hum-lull of a quiet house in a cool morning hour,
Mami lies in the maca, in the backyard, hums a ballad,
her legs dangle off just enough to keep her swinging.
“Which song is that?” “I don’t remember”
the notes hang in the air between us
like a held breath: Mami hums
yes here, as in childhood,
she never strays too far from her life
a long day from yesterday she made
tortillas from scratch, working the masa with her hands,
rolling balls of dough, flattening them with the press
between two circles of Wonder bread plastic
heating them up on a flat skillet with bare fingers until
they puff up, hot air billowing out and softening
between the dishtowels. I draw a line between the melody
She untangles tomatoes from their vines, rinses
them off with water and takes a gaping bite
to see her, over sixty, humming a long-forgotten
love song, Mami who keeps Spanish on her tongue
and English in her pockets for safekeeping.
All artwork, photos, and text © Copyright 2008-2009 Liliana Almendarez unless indicated otherwise. All Rights Reserved. Any downloading, copying or use of images on this website is strictly prohibited without express written consent by Liliana Almendarez.
--Ilya Kaminsky
The hum-lull of a quiet house in a cool morning hour,
Mami lies in the maca, in the backyard, hums a ballad,
her legs dangle off just enough to keep her swinging.
“Which song is that?” “I don’t remember”
the notes hang in the air between us
like a held breath: Mami hums
yes here, as in childhood,
she never strays too far from her life
a long day from yesterday she made
tortillas from scratch, working the masa with her hands,
rolling balls of dough, flattening them with the press
between two circles of Wonder bread plastic
heating them up on a flat skillet with bare fingers until
they puff up, hot air billowing out and softening
between the dishtowels. I draw a line between the melody
She untangles tomatoes from their vines, rinses
them off with water and takes a gaping bite
to see her, over sixty, humming a long-forgotten
love song, Mami who keeps Spanish on her tongue
and English in her pockets for safekeeping.
All artwork, photos, and text © Copyright 2008-2009 Liliana Almendarez unless indicated otherwise. All Rights Reserved. Any downloading, copying or use of images on this website is strictly prohibited without express written consent by Liliana Almendarez.
Tuesday, August 4, 2009
Elegy to Youthful Notions
You have colored my eyes blind
and abandoned a shivering animal
cloaked in a barefoot dream
that led us into a dense poverty.
Your fury and my grasping Eros
left us swirling in embryotic
fluids. You have lost yourself
between the breath and stars.
An apartment and an inside out
sofa—Bull ripped out the stuffing—
suffer the footsteps and a heaving
stomach on to wet pavement.
You are a wolf in sheep’s skins
and I am a traitor to your tasting
tongue. There were red apples on
the doorstep and poison on my lips.
I have loved you, yes. Washed my
hands in the grains of rice and left.
Gathered the scattered seeds and
ceased to be visible in the early dawn.
All artwork, photos, and text © Copyright 2008-2009 Liliana Almendarez unless indicated otherwise. All Rights Reserved. Any downloading, copying or use of images on this website is strictly prohibited without express written consent by Liliana Almendarez.
and abandoned a shivering animal
cloaked in a barefoot dream
that led us into a dense poverty.
Your fury and my grasping Eros
left us swirling in embryotic
fluids. You have lost yourself
between the breath and stars.
An apartment and an inside out
sofa—Bull ripped out the stuffing—
suffer the footsteps and a heaving
stomach on to wet pavement.
You are a wolf in sheep’s skins
and I am a traitor to your tasting
tongue. There were red apples on
the doorstep and poison on my lips.
I have loved you, yes. Washed my
hands in the grains of rice and left.
Gathered the scattered seeds and
ceased to be visible in the early dawn.
All artwork, photos, and text © Copyright 2008-2009 Liliana Almendarez unless indicated otherwise. All Rights Reserved. Any downloading, copying or use of images on this website is strictly prohibited without express written consent by Liliana Almendarez.
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