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José Ramón Sánchez Leyva

Presentamos la traducción al inglés de La Flecha Negra. Con este libro de poesía José Ramón Sánchez se adentra en un territorio que pocos escritores cubanos han abordado: la base naval de la Bahía de Guantánamo, arrendada a Cuba por los Estados Unidos en 1903, bajo los términos coercitivos de la Enmienda Platt, y utilizada desde 2002 para retener a los detenidos en la llamada «guerra contra el terror».
Sánchez, un residente de larga duración de la ciudad cubana de Guantánamo, a menos de veinte millas de la base, reflexiona sobre la historia y la presencia continua en su país del ejército de los EE. UU., los campos de detención y las cercas minadas que separan la base de Cuba. Su poesía se basa en un archivo azaroso y multivocal: recuerdos de una infancia en la que la luz, el sonido y las señales de transmisión de la base llegaban a las áreas circundantes; historias y mapas impresos; registros oficiales relacionados con la creación y desarrollo de la base; informes orales de residentes de la provincia de Guantánamo, algunos de los cuales eran ex trabajadores de la base; documentos filtrados relacionados con las operaciones de detención; y poesía de los detenidos. Lo que surge de la escritura de Sánchez es un ambicioso intento de lidiar con el impacto de la base en Cuba, económica e ideológicamente; y de imaginar y empatizar con las vidas de los detenidos al otro lado de las cercas.

Linkgua

Poetry

The Black Arrow

Sofia Kaloterakis

Oscillating between dreamscapes and gravity, this poetry collection brings into words a map for navigating dreams.

The first part:Gravity zone 00 is inspired by the poet’s personal dreams, observing their kinesiology that evolves through random encounters, scenographic memory and drifting into space/time. The second part Gravity zone 9.825 comes back into the repetitive and linear pace of the every-day pulses opposing the dreams as a choreographed response.

PublishDrive

Drift in Lyrics

curtis schweiger jr

Hi my name is curtis schweiger jr i started writing when i was about 11, but started writing songs when i was about 16, and poems,soon after, this year i published two books "A collection of poetry songs and other writings by curtis schweiger jr" and a short story entitled "My Summer in New York"and i have a third one ready to publish, i am so proud to have my audio book by Findaway Voices and plan on writing long into the future,peace,love,curtis schweiger jr.

Kevin Theis

Curtis Schweiger jr

A Collection of Poetry Curtis Schweiger jr: A Collection of Poetry

Gervase Phinn

This entertaining volume of verse for the very young is the perfect introduction to poetry. It includes poems about everything that is important to children: animals, family, food - and some very good jokes. Jane Eccles' humorous and wacky illustrations perfectly complement this lively and amusing collection.

Child's Play

What I Like!

Kiru Alintah

Something to Sweeten Your Tongue is a collection of poetry… a kalidescope of love, loss, and empowerment.

Something to Sweeten Your Tongue: poems

Rachel Lawson

What is a Poette? A female poet fan of Edgar Allan Poe and Rachel's present name on the site Allpoetry.com a poetry site obviously it is where she writes as The Poette.

This is some of her poetry read by her.

Page Turner

A Poette's Art: Read and Written by Poet

a collection of nice poems by an Allpoetry.com poet Rachel Lawson read by her.

Paige Tuner

Ethereal Enchantment: Poetry read an written by

Gothic Poetry by poet and short story writer Rachel Lawson
Lost In The Shadows Of The Past
I am lost and forgotten as a living being,

Lost in the grim dark shadows of death,

I live in legend and as a vague memory of life,

I am as I was but am nothing but dust and bone,

A mere curiosity of a life lived, a requiem.

Lost in the shadows of the past, forgotten to time

Gothic Poetry

poetry of the night by poet author Rachel Lawson

Moonlight Sarabande: The Poetry of Night's Dance

The Ravens

A flock of ravens floats upon the air over their prey,

Like a looming black storm cloud of gloom,

In the later hours of the death of the day,

They fight each other for room,

In the melee, one is injured it falls,

Blood and gore fill the air,

The air is filled with their dire calls,

Little did the observers of this carnage care,

To them, it was merely a display of the nature of the raven,

Upon the hour they fled,

They were neither crazed nor craven,

They were happy and well-fed.

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Poetry - Bokserien

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