Category Archives: Pablo Neruda

Self-Portrait of a Blind Man at Evening

  Self-Portrait of a Blind Man at Evening Maybe you’ve seen him by the harbour in the south wind, listening, trying to hear over waves the distant fugue whale pods still continually compose off Chile in groans of carbon compressing … Continue reading

Posted in Art is lies, Art is theft, Autumn, Blue Heron, Charlottetown, Crows, Geology, Gravity, Harbour, John MacKenzie, New poems, Pablo Neruda, Poem tweets, Poetry, The Moon, The Sea, The Sky, The Wind, Whales, Winter | Tagged , , , , , , , , , , , , , , , , , , , , | Leave a comment

But Neruda is Dead (salt air off the harbour)

But Neruda is Dead (salt air off the harbour) If I were Pablo Neruda I suppose I’d compare this salt air off the harbour in the night to the scent of your breasts sweating above me in the moonlight and … Continue reading

Posted in Art is lies, Art is theft, Harbour, John MacKenzie, New poems, Pablo Neruda, Poem tweets, Poetry, Sonnet, The Sea | Tagged , , , , , , , , , , | 1 Comment