Portent

_
by now
I have learned
that all things portend
but then
when we fought each other down
by day and made it up
by night

i did not know

the sloop sailed
hard by the ochre cliffs
the waves slapping like wet sheets
on the stony shore
a gull shrieked
riding our spill

from the falcon’s nest
a feathered missile hurtled
air to air
spur and talon demolished
the gliding wings

now
it is an omen.

Deya, 1980’s

Paper de Música

This is a bookmark. The front had a love poem in Spanish by Argentinian poet Mechi Alvarellos, followed by Patrick’s translation.

On the back was a note that read: “JP — I thought you should be the one to throw these away. I have many letters from 1960’s on — you want them?”

As you can tell from the collection of stuff I’m sharing on this web site, the answer was yes.

Paper de Música (bookmark)
Note to JP


A Storm in Izmir

 The sky behind the bluff catches fire and burns
Down the clouds, spreads to the peaks
Above the bay; the wind changes and turns
The waves into dolphins racing to break
The headland toward the open sea.
The squall breaks over us, not from sky or hill,
But out of black crashing ocean spilled
Over sprits and masts of the fishing fleet,
Water grapples mooring posts and clambers
Paylines, spuming into the streets.
The dwindling wick of sun is pinched,
Fury reels keening on the pitchblende wind that roils
Among the palms, fronds flicking verdant fire,
Savage swords in the caverned dark.

Izmir, 1963