I come from a place south where the sun shines fiercely, where corn grows, flanked by two mountain ranges a large valley within known as Anahuac. Nestled between two oceans east and west. I live in a place surrounded by asphalt, cement, full of rushing cars and buses, coffee houses, fancy houses, empty houses. Where the seasons shine and hide in the winter months. Where rain falls, oh blessed rain. Green mountains tall firs, pine and maple leaves fall. Snow mountain peaks jagged edges at the brake of sun, white powder clouds canvas where birds fly south to warmer places. My warm house full of books, laughter and celebration for the words, the words that call to be written, shaped into poems, however strong, raw, soft or coarse they called to be etched on paper, the only proof of my existence
Life itself moves me to create by using common words and unusual words. I read all the poets I can find, wish I could have more time to do that.
William Carlos Williams, Raul Salinas, Beckett, Jaime Sabines, Denise Levertrov, Sylvia Plath, many many more poets
fine poem, man
& welcome!
Just read your poems on blog. Fantastic! Welcome.
Hi Raul!
fine poem, man
& welcome!
Just read your poems on blog. Fantastic! Welcome.
Hi Raul!