how love can make you cry

The room never looks the same
the light like a long thinker finds
its way to the farthest corner
you walk to the window
to catch the last ray of light
coloring the flock of birds
flying in a straight line
you turn your head around
as if remembering something
questions your lips can not utter
you tilt glass to your lips
champagne bubbles rise
like small thoughts
of love in audible whispers.

note: Lara Fabian sings Je T’aime

learning to be

How do flowers conjure

a song for the butterflies

another for the bees?

If winter breaks

does spring wake from slumber?

I try to imagine

what Marcel Duchamp is thinking

while playing chess during his honeymoon,

an apparition descending on a staircase?

note: I have not seen the original art works of Marcel Duchamp in a museum but I am fascinated by his ideas about art. He is
also an avid chess player and a very good player.

a story that reads like a poem or

A sound leaps, wing beats

catches his turn into the library

and thinks he hears

Greetings.I am Mallorca.

O, so unexpected, a voice from the wilderness

(a bundle of colors, red, yellow and blue,

a parrot, perched six foot high.)

I’m Dante.

Are you then from the Balearic Islands?

My master’s sister brought me from Costa Rica.

O, my childhood playmate, Estrelita.

What are you doing?

My master wants to learn Shakespeare’s sonnets.

He reads the lines. I repeat them.

Repetitions for hours oblivious of time

to bind the lines to hairpin folds of memory.

A vocal amanuensis, a pet companion.

I am from a new breed of birds

trained to be good listeners

not unlike the owls of Harry Potter.

You are special

like sweet berries in the desert.

Or like a concubine, not free.

A gold anklet shines on Dante’s eyes.

I’m sorry, he says, with a look of sadness.

I have to say goodbye.

When I comeback, can you teach me Spanish?

Please do come back.

Birds can be lonely.


You are a stranger in the stream

who walked away from a mountain trail

looking for a waterfall

a translation of the inevitable

modest steps lost in the tributaries

understanding that we are the ones

who are often distracted.

Let deer roam your mind

forest of imagination

when its head dips in the stream

let your heart be surprised

learn “to love things

as no one thought to love them”

you will arrive without knowing,

a raindrop surrendering to the sea,

the immensity of the unsayable.