Where horizons go by rhina p poet Rhina Polonia Espaillat is the second kind of writer. Widowed again, with children, in her prime, she spoke so little it was hard to bear so much composure, such a truce with time spent in the lifelong practice of despair.
Unlike William Carlos Williams, for instance, whose Puerto Rican mother and her tropical culture only surface after a close scrutiny of his biography and a search for clues in his poems, Espaillat easily conveyed her background from the outset.
Living in Manhattan, her father was now consigned to such jobs as mannequin assembler and porter, while her mother worked as a dressmaker. I think that the things a woman does that keep her from writing may frustrate her in the short run, but in the long run they contribute to the poems that she may eventually write.
The ant regards himself in contradistinction to the grasshopper, someone whom he perceives to be enjoying a greater degree of public affection. Kennedy, who awarded Where Horizons Go the T. From Where Horizons Go, Truman State University Press; published in Defined Providence Weighing In What the scale tells you is how much the earth has missed you, body, how it wants you back again after you leave it to go forth into the light.
From then on, parenting and homemaking would coalesce into her primary occupation. But I recall her floors, scrubbed white as bone, her dishes, and how painfully they shone. What can you do through this but keep on steering.
Before she could even write, the young girl would speak her poems and Mama Pincha would transcribe them for her. In the audience were conference participants who had chosen the session because of their admiration for Espaillat as a formalist and well-loved American poet.
The habitual speaker of such a mix ends by speaking not two, or even one complete language, but fragments of two that are no longer capable of standing alone. In the words of poet and editor X. Her marriage to then-teacher and now respected sculptor Alfred Moskowitz inand the dual task of raising a family and teaching English in New York City public schools, took priority.
An American poet born in the Dominican Republic and raised in New York, she achieved early stardom as a teenager writing in Manhattan, but then her creative efforts slid into dormancy. After thirty years devoted to teaching and raising her three sons, Espaillat began writing poetry again and published Lapsing to Grace, her first collection of poetry, in at the age of sixty.
Increasingly cultivating her skill as a translator over the last decade, she has produced stellar Spanish renditions of poetry by Frost and truly compelling English-language versions of the poetry by the Iberian mystic Saint John of the Cross San Juan de la Cruz.
She has long been unequivocal about taking stock of her ancestral roots. To tell the truth, although I like his voice I have no time for envy, having much to do storing the nest against harsh days from which sweet singers think themselves exempt.
Well, yes and no. Those others measure scattered light not ours to read our fortunes by; they will not bend maternal over us like funeral flowers. They left home to serve in the Dominican Embassy in Washington, D. I knew how to be dumb and stubborn testaruda ; late, in bed, I hoarded secret syllables I read until my tongue mi lengua learned to run where his stumbled.
A Look2 Essay on Rhina P. Aching with absence, we tug at their deaths to hold them: All presence seems to be deception of a kind.
She also realized the wisdom of creating communities as a way to catalyze poetic activity. Dancing in a Box: For fifteen years, she taught English at Jamaica High School, a position she held until she left the profession to return to poetry in But here inside your capsule of not-stillness not-quite-moving, you focus on the small: Do you remember how earth hardly noticed you then?
Others would rock you in their arms, warm in the flow that fed you, coaxed you upright. Body, how useful you became, how lucky, heavy with news and breakage, rich, and sad, sometimes, imagining that greedy zero you must have been, that promising empty sack of possibilities, never-to-come tomorrow.
Eliot Prize that year. When the group published The Powow River Anthology, edited by Nicol, a chorus of twenty-four poets who had participated in its activities over the fifteen years of its existence, it seemed natural to dedicate the volume to the vivacious and generous Espaillat.
Espaillat credits her paternal grandmother with fostering her early love of language.
Dominican roots and a love of the Spanish tongue stand as vital aspects of her Anglophone poetics.A collection of unforgettable poems, 'Where Horizons Go' is as compelling as it is technically stunning.
The book bridges the sometimes vast distances between the personal and the impersonal, the transitory and the permanent, the imagined and the real, the internal and the external, the self and the.
-Rhina P. Espaillat from Where the Horizons Go The poem, Bilingual/Bilingüe, tackles the subject of cultural heritage. As her passion for poetry and writing become stronger, so does her love of the English language and all the possibilities it has to offer.
Rhina P. Espaillat's "Where Horizons Go" is for readers who look for poetry to curl up with on a rainy day with a pot of tea. Espaillat's exquisitely crafted, polished formal verse never raises its voice, but speaks in the quiet, conversational tone of a wise but self-deprecating best friend.
"Sixty-Five" demonstrates her rueful humor: "My body /5(4). Rhina P. Espaillat was born in the Dominican Republic under the dictatorship of Rafael Trujillo. After Espaillat’s great-uncle opposed the regime, her family was. Her second poetry collection, Where Horizons Go, was published by Truman State University Press in conjunction with her selection for the T.
S. Eliot Prize. Her collection, Rehearsing Absence, "Rhina P.
Espaillat". The Poetry mi-centre.coms: Homero. Rhina Espaillat does not strike grand and stylish literary gestures, she writes poems—strong, individual, and often ingenious. Where Horizons Go is a gift.Download