Category Archives: Poetry

“Say, I am you” by Rumi

I am dust particles in sunlight. I am the round sun. To the bits of dust I say, Stay. To the sun, Keep moving. I am morning mist, and the breathing of evening. I am wind in the top of … Continue reading

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Hridaya Rosary by Adi Da Samraj

You must be open Up, Up to Me— for I Am Infinitely Above your head. You must be open Up to Me, like a waiting cup of love, and allow the all that is between Me and below, to Melt … Continue reading

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Harold Bloom recites Wallace Stevens’ “Tea at the Palaz of Hoon”

“Tea at the Palaz of Hoon” by Wallace Stevens Not less because in purple I descended The western day through what you called The loneliest air, not less was I myself. What was the ointment sprinkled on my beard? What … Continue reading

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Aleister Crowley and Jude 1:12-13

“These are spots in your feasts of charity, when they feast with you, feeding themselves without fear: clouds they are without water, carried about of winds; trees whose fruit withereth, without fruit, twice dead, plucked up by the roots; Raging … Continue reading

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Árbol Adentro by Octavio Paz

Creció en mi frente un árbol. Creció hacia dentro. Sus raíces son venas, nervios sus ramas, sus confusos follajes pensamientos. Tus miradas lo encienden y sus frutos de sombras son naranjas de sangre son granadas de lumbre. Amanece en la … Continue reading

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LA CANCIÓN DESESPERADA by Pablo Neruda

Emerge tu recuerdo de la noche en que estoy. El río anuda al mar su lamento obstinado. Abandonado como los muelles en el alba. Es la hora de partir, oh abandonado! Sobre mi corazón llueven frías corolas. Oh sentina de … Continue reading

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Puedo escribir los versos más tristes esta noche. by Pablo Neruda

Puedo escribir los versos más tristes esta noche. Escribir, por ejemplo: ‘La noche está estrellada, y tiritan, azules, los astros, a lo lejos.’ El viento de la noche gira en el cielo y canta. Puedo escribir los versos más tristes … Continue reading

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