I started writing Venepoetics when I was living in Boston, in September of 2003, after a summer of reading many poetry blogs from the U.S. and Venezuela. I first heard about them via The Poet...
http://venepoetics.blogspot.com/2023/06/venepoetics-postscript.html
CANOABO IN THE NIGHT The night invaded me and I was sad like a shut door. Other doors organized the story of the night into flower stars of a new age of resplendent trees. I ...
http://venepoetics.blogspot.com/2023/04/canoabo-en-la-noche-vicente-gerbasi.html
THE NIGHT The night slowly gathers in my tree-like body. I am insomniac, immobile, as the cold stars of the fog fall into my hands with a light that no longer has a homeland. The ...
http://venepoetics.blogspot.com/2022/11/la-noche-eugenio-montejo.html
ALL NIGHT All night the wind has been sounding through the trees all night I've loved you laborious fire I spark the instant give time a course you are this moment of your life burning amidst...
http://venepoetics.blogspot.com/2022/02/toda-la-noche-guillermo-sucre.html
GUILLERMO SUCRE OR THE INDELIBLE COUNTRY (Photo: Roberto Matta) In today's Venezuela, writers and intellectuals die without receiving any official recognition, even when they've worke...
http://venepoetics.blogspot.com/2021/07/guillermo-sucre-o-el-pais-imborrable.html
Sitting on the steps by the door to the building where I live, I'm suddenly overwhelmed by a gust of solar light that nearly makes the street levitate: the trees —the mango, the acacia and ...
http://venepoetics.blogspot.com/2021/07/diarios-2015-2017-fragmento-armando.html
BEING If you caught a glimpse why aren't you glowing? why is your language the same? why don't your words reach the body? Ah, it's the old road stuck to your steps. * SER Si lo vislumb...
http://venepoetics.blogspot.com/2021/04/ser-rafael-cadenas.html
II The impossible poem exhausts me before we even get started. I spell out its syllables without knowing them, merely disposed to a diaphanous air moving in my mouth for no one. Tenta...
http://venepoetics.blogspot.com/2021/01/la-nada-vigilante-ii-armando-rojas.html
Rains August trembles, porous and tumescent. The cars splash in the shade. Each lineal raindro...
http://venepoetics.blogspot.com/2020/08/lluvias-armando-rojas-guardia-1949-2020.html
TEXTS ON THE OUTSIDE • deciding not to wait increases the speed of the droplets another farce • brief each day facing the screen one word another • without the keys...
http://venepoetics.blogspot.com/2020/06/textos-por-fuera-eleonora-requena.html
THE PANDEMIC The pandemic brings us back, even without our voluntarily intention, to the cosmic sense of existence. The same one I learned how to notice and savor, at age seventeen, while readi...
http://venepoetics.blogspot.com/2020/03/la-pandemia-armando-rojas-guardia.html
OVID IN CABIMBÚ In a distant, ruined and today nearly forgotten country where people said there’d once been a paradise, the poet laureate, famous for his Elegy on the Death of the Last Horse...
http://venepoetics.blogspot.com/2020/02/ovidio-en-cabimbu-ednodio-quintero.html
CONFESSIONS OF AN ECCENTRIC STATIONER to old Caupo, to Elí and Aquiles I confess my already famous stubbornnes...
http://venepoetics.blogspot.com/2020/01/confesiones-de-un-papelero-estrafalario.html
ROME /1/10/73 This cigarette butt This little bit of ground coffee This cherry yogurt These few grains of salt This fistful These chamomile flowers These grains of rice This ration of se...
http://venepoetics.blogspot.com/2019/12/roma-10173-victor-valera-mora.html
NAVIGATIONS Returning at night when the trees stand watch turning off the lamps one by one and declining shutters darken, men and their footsteps are clearer, their reflections more vivid....
http://venepoetics.blogspot.com/2019/12/navegaciones-eugenio-montejo.html
NATIVE NIGHT Caracas was further away than anything I’d ever dreamed of in my nothingness, that’s why it was night when I arrived and the streets were deserted, not a single person; it...
http://venepoetics.blogspot.com/2019/11/noche-natal-eugenio-montejo.html
IF I EVER RETURN If I ever return it’ll be for the birdsong. Not for the trees that will depart with me or eventually visit me in autumn, nor by the rivers that, underground, continue to...
http://venepoetics.blogspot.com/2019/11/si-vuelvo-alguna-vez-eugenio-montejo.html
PRACTICE OF THE WORLD Write clearly, God doesn’t wear eyeglasses. Don’t translate your deep music into numbers and codes. Words are born through touch. The sea you watch runs ahead of i...
http://venepoetics.blogspot.com/2019/10/practica-del-mundo-eugenio-montejo.html
TO VICTORIA DE STEFANO Reading Victoria de Stefano is a privilege, an aesthetic experience, a delight for the senses. Ever since I dis...
http://venepoetics.blogspot.com/2019/09/a-victoria-de-stefano-ednodio-quintero.html
Venezuela in Verse Venezuela has become a powerhouse of the poetry in Spanish that is relatively well-represented in Spain from a publishing point of view. Joining anthologies such as La poe...
http://venepoetics.blogspot.com/2019/07/venezuela-en-verso-javier-rodriguez.html
CARACAS HAS DIED Caracas loses its hemodynamics. Its fury decomposes. Its vital signs are flattened. It’s losing its vitamins. Its defenses were extinguished. Its streets are emptying. Its an...
http://venepoetics.blogspot.com/2019/06/caracas-ha-muerto-alonso-moleiro.html
IN THE GLOOM By candlelight, as if we were devotees of Saint Gaston Bachelard, my beloved Rosbelis and I sit down to share our cold frugal dinner: chopped potatoes, onions and tomatoes, canned ...
http://venepoetics.blogspot.com/2019/06/en-la-oscurana-ednodio-quintero.html
ALMOST A COUNTRY (16) Juan has arrived punctually. I like his suit, it’s the color of medlar. He doesn’t say a word to me; but it doesn’t matter. We stroll through Plaza ...
http://venepoetics.blogspot.com/2019/05/casi-un-pais-16-elizabeth-schon.html
ALMOST A COUNTRY (15) In a doorway a boy is playing with a perinola, its cord is bending with such agility, growing, curving, while the boy is immobile, doesn’t laugh, doesn’t speak...
http://venepoetics.blogspot.com/2019/05/casi-un-pais-15-elizabeth-schon.html
ALMOST A COUNTRY (14)  Maybe pushed by the wind, by the crowds, I have arrived at 23 de enero.  23 de enero is one of the most populated places in Caracas, as populated as ...
http://venepoetics.blogspot.com/2019/05/casi-un-pais-14-elizabeth-schon.html