i'm not really here

Epictetus was right.
JULY 25, 2013 4:16PM

a siren song for Sirenita Lake

 

This is the one song everyone
would like to learn: the song
that is irresistible
                        (from Siren Song by Margaret Atwood) 

 

and now, sweet siren,
you will not wave goodbye at ships
 but dance
as… Read full post »

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JUNE 15, 2012 7:11PM

stick buddhist

I know. I know. I haven’t been around here in ages.  Sorry about that. I do have a soft spot for all of you and wonder how are you doing. I see many new faces around, people I obviously do not know, and I am glad. 
 
I have been trying… Read full post »
JANUARY 21, 2012 3:04PM

this, what i meant to say

this, what i meant to say, when

you, staring at trees and i

watching through a window,

i’ve empty pockets.

there.

no inked mercies,

for i am bumbling bilbo,

i know you half as well

as i should like,

and, whenRead full post »

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OCTOBER 16, 2011 10:59PM

unhemmed

i am not used to silences
do you know the muteness that i speak of?
not the sheer nothingness of breeze and open windows, 
of turned off appliances, but
the mind one, when everyone is there but also gone,
an assortment of dressed up skeletons

silence is hope unnatural, undeserved
i have a hard time wi… Read full post »

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JULY 24, 2011 1:29PM

high tides: interlude

 

  no lifeguard

august beacons

words will fail, become wild, thorny nothings inhabited by ghostly
bramblings

and i must away, to life and work, to figure out why eldest daughter is so 
much like me, to watch first born son complete his last year of junior high school, to… Read full post »

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JULY 13, 2011 10:44AM

my neighbor who plays the violin

it is one of those odd moments in life. one minute you are going to put a new load to wash, the next your feet are carrying you to the night-ed backyard, the strains of a violin too alive to be a recording. and you realize the neighbor who just moved… Read full post »

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MAY 30, 2011 10:38PM

she yearned for Keats

she yearned for Keats, and
love letters on white parchment, bleeding ink
the laborious detailing of desire in longhand
a slow exuberant taking
so many tears spilled to know this--
all fades
ink and blood and want
down dirty rivulets of our own making
‘twere better to be
Brother Death walking barefoot
smi/… Read full post »

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MAY 3, 2011 9:30PM

something that should stay lost

memory is a frail thing
an old lady made of alabaster
a thin green-leaved vein on well-mortared walls
this waking--
the very nature of a ghost
as if blood ran doubly through the body
as if time had not willingly dissolved
an assemblage of mercurial snapshots and
referential phrases in a crowd

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APRIL 24, 2011 7:13PM

a sadness remembered

a dullness unrelated to attending the miracle.
date forgotten
memory spirited on muscle
i am no Giles, mocking stone
a basketful of tears unshed
the taking of books and placing them back Read full post »

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APRIL 21, 2011 7:44PM

tamarinds on holy thursday

on biting, earth-fleshed, velvet-skinned, darker-than-my-own, 
bliss of tartness
i am not there in my house, gleefully breaking fragile seed pods, eating tamarinds until lips almost break
(it’s the mock-vampire who bleeds)
not there i say, but in another house
a small, painted-white thing,
on al/… Read full post »

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APRIL 16, 2011 4:11PM

books for the dead

(i wonder if the dead read, what with all that time available) 

 

were i to cry
until dissolution
until misery laughed open-mouthed
the loss of all appetites, bliss--
stilled tumult of heart
space between ribs dull
gone the ache
a nice cavity emptied
cleaned
filled with cotton or straw
smelling sweet… Read full post »

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APRIL 11, 2011 6:08PM

snapshot

the lifting of the head at a particular
moment, mind still delighting in the
gladness of the growing of green things
a sky rent, an almost sky, a grey sheet
bleeding brilliant white
a gliding visitor waving hello
and i am (0f) tamarind-fleshed earth,
staring unschooled at beauty
my own greeting, sluggis/… Read full post »

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i sew a dress of regrets
sharp needle prickling skin
each blood drop a pearl
enough thread
for both of us

but were the Poet to sit
between you and I
share a laugh at passersby
what with their bags of ennui.

our wishes half-built, stifled
lest they escape, tell on us, the shame!
age learns to lock secrets away
Read full post »

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MARCH 17, 2011 8:18PM

missing

if you asked me, a few years ago, I would most definitely have panicked, sent a veritable deluge of emails, imagined kidnappers and car wrecks

This life we lead, so fragile, so resilient. This community of strangers who are not so, we seek each other tentatively, in real life, exchange precious… Read full post »

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MARCH 9, 2011 7:56PM

ash wednesday

Carl_Spitzweg ash wednesday 

i've begun that letter so many times

let's pretend this is an exorcism
of sorts, or that i am
in a confessional, this writing of things in journals
forgive me father, for i have sinned
that they might leave me alone for a while, that
debussy and nocturnes cannot cure,
i will not ask myse… Read full post »

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MARCH 5, 2011 10:53AM

untitled

and then, there was nothing,
no trees stood, no houses
just the vast stretch of drowned red earth,
dead eyes staring
brilliant blue sun laughing.

copyright 2011 vanessa seijo

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DECEMBER 27, 2010 4:59PM

on not being photogenic

were i not in such an atramentous mood
even your kiss can only subside
did pixels not show birdlike governesses
a stare too severe
bêtes noires i keep and feed
had i not walked too long this road
had i stitched a darker cloak
i’d be the yo yo lady in a berlin street
and call myself island girl/
Read full post »

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DECEMBER 25, 2010 9:10PM

aubergine

and so if laughter bubbles up in my mouth
threatens to spill, drown us both
you in that pale shirt of yours, starched and proper
i, aubergine lips and nails
not a bit of white in me, you see
come, have some wine, forget

 

copyright 2010 vanessa seijo Read full post »

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There were two interesting articles the other week regarding the writing of novels, and literary agents, and what publishers want.  Ann Nichols’s and Mauricio Betancourt’s works were featured on the cover and there was quite a lively discussion among writers, published or not.


Having… Read full post »

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“It is more fun to talk with someone who doesn't use long, difficult words but rather short, easy words like "What about lunch?"”
Winnie the Pooh

when you see  her
sleeping, folded butterfly lighted
on errant limb
a sun salutation bemusing moon
swaddled in fake cold air
a quilt loved to p… Read full post »

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I decided to write my pre-radio interview jitters away.

See, I told you about the book thing.

And I told you about the radio interview thing.

But this here woman, who has no problem dealing with dozens and dozens of school-aged children at the same time, who can get in theRead full post »

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Editor’s Pick
SEPTEMBER 1, 2010 9:29PM

the hurricane chronicles

Monday

The government has decided schools will open.  Even with a hurricane warning given.  A disastrous move, they will backtrack that order in a few hours, sending frenzied parents into searching for their offspring.  Schools will let students out after lunch, roughly 11:00 a.m. Read full post »

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AUGUST 3, 2010 6:58AM

the end of summer

there, crowned by a westering sun, my daughter plays a baseball of sorts, a small retinue of uncles her private court, half excited about this, half afraid to let go

there, a malachite playground kept by the sheer will of a man who reminds me of Tom Bombadil, thunderous and genial… Read full post »

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Editor’s Pick
JUNE 2, 2010 4:41PM

The Curse of Being Latina

To be just that.

Maybe I don’t understand the politics of race in writing.

Then again, maybe I do, and use it to my full advantage.  Someone, call me a hypocrite.

There was a phone call, earlier last week, and I was told in no uncertain terms I need toRead full post »

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MAY 12, 2010 2:56PM

Today I Went to the Theater

Today I went to the theater.

Well, perhaps it would be more accurate to state that the theater came to me.

The end of school ennui is broken by the cries of the actors are here! Students, those whose parents don’t believe that finals exams are over and done and still/… Read full post »

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