Marie Anzalone : Writing

Translation: The Valley

Translation: The Valley

A Poem by Marie Anzalone


I do not know how, I do not know when, But I have entered a valley of shadows. All is black, everything is amorphous and diffuse, I ..
Four Friends Waiting Out a Flood in a Cafe; in Huehue

Four Friends Waiting Out a Flood in a Cafe; in Hue..

A Poem by Marie Anzalone


written as a meditation on the theme of "Free Will" for the Xela poetry Club "Casa Los Altos. This is the English translation of the original I wrote ..
The Cure for Melancholy

The Cure for Melancholy

A Poem by Marie Anzalone


Blame it on heartbreak, you said. On the utter madness of sheer loneliness, on having your true love so far away yet so close for..
Silence Part 4: Ordinary Magic

Silence Part 4: Ordinary Magic

A Poem by Marie Anzalone


for the one who let her go
After the Rain

After the Rain

A Poem by Marie Anzalone


After the rain everything breathes outin relief- the ground, the trees, you; youbecause your home is still intact, theyfor what the rain does to the d..
Silence Part 3: The Weight of Pure Moonlight

Silence Part 3: The Weight of Pure Moonlight

A Poem by Marie Anzalone


In every world spirituality, the path to confront one’s own God, one’s own soul, one’s own calling- that path is a ric..
Silence Part 2: The Range of Human Hearing

Silence Part 2: The Range of Human Hearing

A Poem by Marie Anzalone


Humans, they say, need 2 hours of silence each day, for necessary reflection, for setting right what is presented wrongly. The in..
Silence Part 1: Half of all Available Space

Silence Part 1: Half of all Available Space

A Poem by Marie Anzalone


Today, she will have gone on being a tetrahedron in a world of circles. Right now, she is folding the day into thirds, making a kimon..
The Art of Transcendence

The Art of Transcendence

A Poem by Marie Anzalone


It is the art of knowing that nobody reads your words- and writing them, anyway, because to not write is to die 10,000 deaths instead of ..
Reflection on a Crescent Moon in Mexico

Reflection on a Crescent Moon in Mexico

A Poem by Marie Anzalone


They tell me, don’t see her as a sliver of God’s fingernail in the sky, but rather see her in a child’s drawing of..