your laughter.

today, i just felt like sharing one of my favorite poems by neruda. he is, without a doubt, a "torch-bearer" so to speak- one of the most influential poets to turn the tragedies he witnessed in his country into art. he was revolutionary. beyond his poetry, a statement he made has always stuck with me (as in i remember it impacted me, but had to google that shit- cause, um...i definitely cannot remember the word 'unassailable'...or can i? hmmm- quiz me when you see me). upon receiving the nobel prize for literature, neruda commented on his journey: "there is no unassailable solitude. all roads lead to the same point: to the communication of who we are. and we must travel across lonely and rugged terrain, through isolation and solitude, to reach the magic zone where we can dance an awkward dance." a poet so engaged in politics, a leader of freedom for his country, a passionate artist- still....still. still stressed the significance of silence and isolation. how can we consciously leave our footprint in the world unless we know fully each wrinkle, freckle, callous, and size of our own foot? maybe we have to check in every now and then to see if new bruises, hairs, or warts have formed. perhaps we need to check in again to cut our toe nails- or just one- or go into the doctor for an embarrassing, but necessary removal of some sort. slice. blood. bandage. healed. nevertheless, check in. never stop checking in with yourself, learning who you are, what you want, where you are going- otherwise you won't be able to distinguish your own footprint from ones you follow, or worse, ones who have chosen to walk beside you.


your laughter

deprive me of bread, if you want,
deprive me of air, but
don't deprive me of your laughter.

don't deprive me of the rose,
the spear you shed the grains with,
the water splashing
swiftly in your joy,
the sudden silver wave
born in you.

my struggle is painful. as i return
with my eyes sometimes tired
from watching
the unchanging earth,
your laughter enters
and raises to heaven
in search of me,
to open
all the doors of life.

my loved one, in the darkest hour,
unsheath your laughter,
and if suddenly
you see my blood staining
the cobblestones,
laugh, for your laughter
will be for my hands
like an unsullied sword.

near the sea in autumn,
your laughter must rise
in its cascade of foam,
and in spring, my love,
i want your laughter
to be like the flower i anticipated,
the blue flower, the rose
of my resonant homeland.

laugh at the night,
all the day, at the moon,
laugh at the twisted
streets of the island,
laugh at the clumsy
young man who loves you.
yet when i open my eyes
and close them,
when my steps go,
when my steps return,
deny me bread, air,
light, spring,
but never your laughter
for i would die.