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Thursday, July 30th, 2015
outside
the repetitive nonverbal dialogue of crickets and birds. Pradeep pradeep!
--sh!--sh!--sh!--sh!--sh!--sh!!
posted evening of July 30th, 2015: Respond
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Thursday, February 19th, 2015
One nice side benefit of the class I took last spring at la Universidad Desconocida was the chance to meet classmate Isabel Zapata. Today her "Canción de Cuna para Sonámbulos" is online at Limulus along with my translation. Check it out! A beautiful poem.
posted evening of February 19th, 2015: Respond
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Thursday, January first, 2015
mañana es otro dÃa
por J. Osner
nos unamos los manos:
nos giremos hacia el este
esperando al sol que teñirán
de rosa sus rayos el cielo negro;
nos dejarán saber
que empieza el nuevo dÃa,
ese dÃa hasta que postergábamos
todos los deseos más queridos.
agárrame a mà ahora la mano
y dime nuevamente, muévete:
nos ya estamos quemando
debajo del sol del mediodÃa.
posted evening of January first, 2015: Respond
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Saturday, December 13th, 2014
Luminiferous Genesis by J Osner
The first day was water. On the second day
water created earth.
On the third day mud
breathed air. On the fourth day creation blazed, and said
that it was good. Muddy reality,
eternally drying out in the heat
of the moment.
posted morning of December 13th, 2014: Respond
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Saturday, December 6th, 2014
on an easel on the stage, the title -- ποταμοῖσι τοῖσιν αá½Ï„οῖσιν á¼Î¼Ïαίνουσιν, ἕτεÏα καὶ ἕτεÏα ὕδατα á¼Ï€Î¹ÏÏεῖ. Different waters bathe those who step into the same river. --Heraclitus of Ephysus. The spot fades and the placard is removed; enter Cratylus stage right. Lights come up stage right on Cratylus and gradually on the rest of his colleagues, who are standing like statues. Each (except Cratylus) has a placard identifying the character's name at his feet. Cr. kicks them away one by one as he points at the actor -- "waking him up".
posted morning of December 6th, 2014: 3 responses
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Monday, November 17th, 2014
— My friend, you are a barbarian. You paint as if one eye were on the moon and the other on Mars. I don't like your work; but you have made me weep. And tears are the blood of sincerity. Cool -- two publications in a row of Marta Aponte Alsina translations! A story I translated last year is included in the November issue of The Acentos Review -- 1955: Lavender Mist.
posted evening of November 17th, 2014: Respond
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Thursday, October 16th, 2014
Marta Aponte Alsina's recent novellette Mr. Green is available on Kindle in Spanish; and now you can read the first few pages in my translation, at Tupelo Quarterly.
posted evening of October 16th, 2014: Respond
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Tuesday, September 23rd, 2014
 A couple of things have been happening lately in the world of "poetry by J. Osner"... The chapbook of the Universidad Desconocida workshop was presented at the kickoff event for the workshop's second year. It features three of my poems and lots of beautiful writing from other students -- and I've just finished a translation of Isabel Zapata's "Sleepwalker's Lullaby" from the chapbook. ...Two of my poems (both from Analogies for Time) were published in Issue 5 of Street Voice (I think it is the first time I have ever appeared in a poetry journal), and I'm in touch with the editor about submitting some more work.
posted morning of September 23rd, 2014: Respond
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Saturday, September 20th, 2014
![]() Here is an idea I am liking, poetry-wise: I think I've hit on this rhythm and voice that will allow me to propel the text, to follow almost blindly the beats and consonants of the text and ultimately even to transcend the text. Here is a piece I wrote in that fashion, following this meter, yesterday -- as I say I like it, and find this a pleasant voice to adopt, cute, (semi blatant) echoes of Poe and of Whitman -- formally of one, excitement-wise of the other. The poem is to a prompt from Describli.
Lines iiby J. Osner
Read between the lines,
lines marking boundaries that
separate *within* from what's
without. Read behind the
words, the printed words are
only messengers, the poem
that's behind them's what you
need. Read between the lines,
dividing lines between the
text and empty paper. Read
behind the words, read
through the text, it's a distraction from the message
graven deep on every page.
Read behind the page, now
read the emptiness around
you, shining message, read
the tintinnabulation of the
night, the air around you's humming,
breathing, clicking, pounding, every line
of every poem you've ever
read's inscribed there, see it,
read it, listen to the meter of
the poem that's behind the
text you're reading in the
sweet night air, encoded
in the symbols of the lines.
posted afternoon of September 20th, 2014: Respond
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Saturday, September 13th, 2014
It's all going down tonight at McNalley-Jackson Books in the city. I'll be reading my poem "Formación" from the book of the Universidad Desconocida from last term, which is being presented.
Plus music and dancing! Come by if you're in the neighborhood.
posted afternoon of September 13th, 2014: Respond
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