poem: Written for a Living Poet 4: A Sunset in Venezuela, Maybe

Borges got it right in his Aleph,

that forerunner of all wormhole fiction,

junction where all probabilities

and possibilities converged,

like all lightning that ever struck

and ever will strike that

place whose name I will never

remember, off the Venezuelan coast

that gets lightning storms over 300 days

of every year.

Maybe even some of the residents

do not get tired

of the sight. and

maybe that is the

hidden secret of all

resilient hearts-

to not be jaded, by

making the sublime, mundane.

Maybe that is some comfort, the thought

that all possibilities already exist;

and it is our job only to see

and through seeing, clearly, find:

one combination that works

for that locker where we guard desires

and deepest fears?

I do not think there is ever

only one predestined path, what good

would that be? There would

be no learning. If we held God to our

standards of comfort

we never would have gotten around

to abolishing even the forms of slavery

that we did.

If I poured the wine, would you

pull up a chair, and drink-

to things as fascinating

as the cumulative weight of every

ant that ever existed in the history

of ants; every mind illumined

while watching the history

of Venezuela's atmospheric anomalies,

every potential ending to every

story that Faulkner wrote,

and every possibility

that has ever existed

for you?

No man as compassionate as you

was ever sentenced to solitude;

somewhere, I think

while you are so busy teaching others

to take their broken words

and mend them, helping

them fly- I hope

you find some small stream

a reflection in a wine glass.

A resonance of a Truth

within an entire universe of Truths-

where someone walks up

some time, on some beach

under one sunset of all possible

sunsets that you could

have ever shared with anyone;

that she (or several she's,

anything is possible) takes

your hand,

and teaches you

how to breathe underwater

in this dimension and

all others. Surrender perhaps

does not always involve

the act of drowning.

para Jorge, con aprecio completo y recognicion

Author's Note

too often we wait too long to tell others how their work affects us.
this series of part of my own limited attempt to give some back.

Reviews

[Tree]

Deeply felt, profoundly appreciated. I laude what you've been doing here. You're not just dedicating superbly constructed poems, but the ones I've read from your series have also been gentle teaching lessons. There was a wisdom in this that I took to heart , and your last stanza fell on me / like a warm rain.

Thank you for sharing this.

[Marie Anzalone]

This is the third I believe openly dedicated thus. Of course, I took a lot of our back-and-forth convos to heart when I wrote this. It pleases me to no end that it was received in the spirit/ tone on which it was intended, and that it had its desired effect. Trying something new with this exercise, and I have liked the places where it has taken me thus far. You are quite welcome, as well as quite deserving. I hope you do take the message to heart; this one was a true message. I wanted to write something else, but this is what came out. Abrazos.

[jacob erin-cilberto]

i do think some poets teach us to breathe underwater....reading them makes us understand our own plight.
they have been there, they understand...and when they take us for the plunge it helps us purge our own feelings, our own pain...
and we can do that without drowning. we just surrender to what we really feel.

nicely done...and yes, it is nice to see a poet appreciated in life...

[Marie Anzalone]

Thanks, jacob. I often think that poets are the prescients among us; they see and feel the future first, they despair first, they take the chances first. They drown so that we do not have to. The they come back nd try to teach us but it never quite works and they get frustrated with us. At least the greats do. If they are patient they persevere, and keep trying to show us. I think most people need more appreciation in their lives; poets most of all. This was a delightful exercise, actually. Glad you enjoyed this piece. :-)

[Horizon K.]

This series you have written, reminds me of when I first began reading and loving your poetry, your inspiring heart letters. Those first I read, were another series written and titled with something like January 2013, and ever since, your poetry has been of my favorites on the WC.

What I learn here, is this-- we listen when we care, learn what resonates with them.... And when we go further-- extrapolate-- we encourage them to think further too. Sometimes, we become seers.

So many stanzas, I found especially beautiful, including:

maybe that is the
hidden secret of all
resilient hearts-
to not be jaded, by
making the sublime, mundane.

And like Diego points out, the last stanza was profound.

I know I'll be back to read this poem again, pondering this-- junction where all probabilities /
and possibilities converge... where lightening strikes and why...

Marie, I love that you honor those who inspire you this way. A beautiful and thoughtful poem, that feels like a blessing, for the poet who has also been the most inspirational to me.

[Marie Anzalone]

Thnak you, Horizon. This was the hardest of my series to write, for me. Trying to create a soul sketch is never easy, and I am never sure how close or far from the mark I fall. The series has been a very taxing and eye-opening exercise for me, as a writer. Often, I sit down and write through a thing, trying to figure it out... a written form of thinking aloud. The end result is often far different from th e1-2 lines/ images that I start with. In this, I knew that the Aleph described the individual, but what eneded up going into the singularity metaphor, surprised me. I htought of random, impossible to track events, and Venezuela came to mind It felt "right." Once I hot that point, the words were no longer mine. For this poet, almost every time I have written for him, the words coem through, not from, me. Therefore, intepretation is very open-ended, by design. I appreciate readign your own thoughts and impressions on this.

-R

[Emily B]

ilove what you are doing, lessons we have learned and all that

[Marie Anzalone]

Thanks, Emily, I have a few more to go, but these were the first. This really is a fun and insightful exercise. :-)

[h d e rushin]

a few months ago I was worried as hell about you. But a healthy artist is one who creates art.
I love your recent efforts.....dana

[Marie Anzalone]

you were right to be worried, my friend. I came within hours of simply not making it back out.
read moreyou were right to be worried, my friend. I came within hours of simply not making it back out.
I am glad for all of the reasons I oculd think of to stay here and battle it out some more.
You and a few others here, were some of my reasons.
Am simply trying to pay a debt too vast to comprehend, maybe.

[h d e rushin]

But you make it out, and without flying apart in those tiny little Anzalone pieces...Were thankingread moreBut you make it out, and without flying apart in those tiny little Anzalone pieces...Were thanking
God for that.....dana

[Marie Anzalone]

sometimes, we are stronger than we think.
But You, my friend-
taught me that, as well.

-Raquelita