Spanish Love: Spanish Poets and Their Spanish Poems

Love and its attendant passions has been the favorite subject of Spanish poetry since the time of the troubadours, medieval poets who earned their keep by singing for the people at the village square or for the nobility during royal gatherings at the palace. Composers in their own right, these court poets sang about courtly love and the bittersweet pain of unattained love for an idealized woman using the jarchas, a form of love song that was actually poetry written in very short stanzas.

It is important in the study of Spanish love poems to differentiate between poems that originated from countries outside of Spain including Ar gentina, Chile, Colombia, Cuba, Ecuador, El Salvador, Mexico, Nicaragua, Peru, The Philippines, Puerto Rico, The United States, Uruguay and Venezuela which were written in Spanish but whose authors were not from Spain. All these poets and their respective poems have contributed in some way to the development of Spanish Poetry as a genre because they all wrote their work in Spanish albeit in the form of Spanish common to their country of origin. Although some of them wrote patriotic poems about their motherland, most of them utilized images of love to depict the sorrow of a country that has lost its freedom.

Some of these well-known Spanish poets and their popular poems are:

Carlos Alberto Garcia Amor
Que soy
Quisiera
Yo te conozco
Olvidarte
Nestor Oscar Morris Quiero decirte algo
Pienso solo en ti
Jorge E. Diaz Leyton Tu
Manuel M. Mendez Pertenencia

Focusing attention on Spanish poets who trace their origins to Spain, however; poets who lived, loved and wrote their best work within the Spanish Peninsula or the so-called Poetas de Espaa, we come up with a list of illustrious writers whose works contributed to the development of Spanish Literature as it is today.

* Rafael Alberti - La Amante
* Vicente Aleixandre ( Nobel Laureate 1977) Destruction of Love
* Dmaso Alonso Hijos de la Ira
* Gustavo Adolfo Bcquer Rimas y leyendas
* Saint John of the Cross - Dark Night of the Soul
* Luis Cernuda - La realidad y el deseo
* Francisco Domene - Arrabalas
* Len Felipe Drop a Sta r
* Federico Garca Lorca - Sonetos del amor oscuro
* Luis de Gngora - Soledades
* Jorge Guilln - Cntico
* Miguel Hernndez - Nanas de cebolla
* Santa Teresa de Jess - Laughter Came From Every Brick
* Juan Ramn Jimnez (Nobel Laureate 1956) La Poetica
* Antonio Machado - Nuevas canciones
* Jorge Manrique - Coplas por la muerte de su padre
* Emilio Prados - Veinte poemas en verso
* Francisco de Quevedo - Flores de poetas ilustres
* Ana Rossetti Where is My Man
* Pedro Salinas - Ayer Te Bes en los Labios
* Garcilaso de la Vega - Hora de Nuestra Seora
* Lope de Vega - La Arcadia
* Esteban Manuel de Villegas - Las Erticas
* Leopoldo Mara Panero Dedicatoria

LearnMyLingo.com delivers a variety of quick language learning programs right to your desktop including Spanish and a free language learning guide, 8 ways to learn a language quickly and easily.

Author:: Philip Nicosia
Keywords:: Spanish, free language learning guide
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Haiku Poems Learn How to Write Them!

Writing Haiku Poems needn't be difficult. Things have changed a lot since the days of the Japanese masters. For one, modern Haiku Poems no longer have to adhere to the 5-7-5 syllable rule.

Instead, we now have something called fragment/phrase theory where we look at Haiku in a new way. For example, take a look at this Haiku poem from the authors Bird Haiku:

Cold gray sky --
crows gather
under the pine

Notice the syllable count. It's not 5-7-5 yet this Haiku poem retains the all important Haiku sensibility. That is, it focuses on nature and expresses a present moment event in very few words. The poem is constructed using fragment/phrase theory. The fragment cold gray sky begins the Haiku and really sets the scene. This is followed by the sentence fragment crows gather under the pine.

Notice too the cut or caesura - the double hyphens at the end of line 1. These serve to make the distinction between line 1 and lines 2 and 3. Most modern Haiku use a fragment and a phrase. Knowing this allows you to see into the structure and begin to create your own Haiku Poems. And the real key to doing this is learning how to write present tense descriptive phrases.

Haiku poet Ray Rasmussen suggests learning how to write phrases is key to learning how to write Haiku and I agree with him. You see, the phrase really is the specific present moment event whereas the fragment just sets the scene.

There are 2 ways to begin writing phrases. The first way is where you go out in nature and start describing things you see. The second way is where you work in your head to do the same thing. I prefer the second way, however, whichever way works best for you is the one you should use.

Edward Weiss is a poet, author, and publisher of Wisteria Press. He has been helping students learn how to write Haiku for many years and has just released his second book Bird Haiku! Sign up for our free Haiku newsletter the Wisteria Gazet te! It comes to your inbox every monday offering tips on how to write Haiku! Visit http://wisteriapress.com for Haiku books, lessons, articles, and more!

Author:: Edward A. Weiss
Keywords:: Haiku,Haiku Poems,Poems,Poetry
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Passion Storm

Every breath, quicker than before
My heart pounding fast
Your mouth moves lower
Searching, finding I gasp

Passion, deep Passion
Dances over me
Uncontrollable feelings
Wild and free

Arching against you
Tingling deep inside
Oh take me yes take me
On this deep Passion ride

Cries of excitement
From deep within us
Bodies, touching frantically
In hot, beautiful Lust

Riding the waves
Pure with Pleasure
This moment in time
Is ours to treasure

All is calm now
Feeling so warm
Cuddling together
Until the next Passion storm

I married in 1999, which did not work out and ended in divorce less than a year later. I married for the second time in February 2001, to Peter, who I Love with all m y heart and soul we truly are soulmates.
I have been writing poetry for many years and regularly have it published in print. My poetry is published by Forward Press and in many other publications. So I'm now putting my poetry online. I publish my poetry on my Blog jo-hale-poetry at http://jo-hale-poetry.blogspot.com/ and on 8hop.com My poetry on 8hop.com. I also have information about my poetry at http://www.squidoo.com/jo-hale-poetry. I'm married to my husband Peter. I was born in May 1970 and am a Taurean star sign.

Author:: Joanne Hale
Keywords:: Passion storm, Love, wild free, Passion, making Love, Cuddling, Loving, Pleasure, Lust, Tingling
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Let Your Feelings Be Your Guide

The light of all eternity shines with me now / My Feelings light up my life / How I find my way is determined by them / They illumine my path and show me who I am

When I was young, I felt so many things / Then came the day when I could not stand the pain / My world was chaos then, filled with sorrow and grief / So I closed up to protect that fragile Self within

Years would go by before I could open again / I was forced to by circumstances beyond my control / Life dealt me blows which I later recognized as my own / To awaken me to that sorrow deep within my Soul

I worked hard to find my way back to the Light / To that place within where I could feel once again / There my Heart shone forth with a brave face / And shed light on all that I had concealed

Now I see how I closed that tender-hearted Self / How I froze in the face of my destiny / Troubles swirled around as a constant source of grief / And I fell to sleep out of fear

I am awakening now to the deep void within / Where Ive stored all those troubles and pain / I fight my way back to that center once again / So I can come forth completely and be true

My life moves forward as of this day / When I committed to finding my true Self / Ive engaged all manner of demons on this journey / To return to that Source deep inside

I wish for life to fill me now and bring all it can / I am thirsty for experience and for Growth / I want lavish riches from my Soul to fill me / So that I can truly enjoy all that I behold

This work is sometimes difficult as I have learned / But no more than any task requiring Love / This journey enriches me with its purpose / And fills me with Life and Soul

This is my gift to mySelf, my own holy Soul / To have, to hold and to behold / This Heart that bled is now healing its wounds / And can prosper again from what Life brings

Let there never be a return to where hurts cramp me up / And fill me with bitterness and pain / I am awake now, yes, and can move ahead / To appreciate all that Life has assigned

Oh glory to you, my Sweet Soul, for coming this day / I thank you from the bottom of my Heart / We two can sing together the praises of Love / That take us forward on this journey through time

Never let it be said that one so deserving / Could not find his or her way Home / All whom will follow shall see this Light in turn / And know that their journey can be won

I take you with me now, my Sweet Soul / For you are here in my hands / Where I can behold you / And together, we can be so bold

Move on, you say to me. Move on, my love / The Light wishes for us to do so / And my Heart sings with the possibilities / So that Yes is the answer I can render with ease

My Heart is filled with Love and joy in this moment / Knowing that I am with you, my Soul / My Feelings tell me you are there and always were / Till that sleep came over me earlier on

By awakening to your touch do I know You / And find my own truth there in your eyes / You show me through Love what my purpose can be / I am inspired by this attentive design

I am pleased we are here together, in this life / I am pleased that our love is so strong / For now I can reach you, my Sweet Soul Sublime / When you call to me from deep within my Heart

I have your answer Dear, and know this to be true / That you and I are forever to be born / In this life or another, we join with each other / And We Soar . . . And We Soar . . . And We Soar . . .

Maurice Turmel has a PHD in Counseling Psychology and was a practicing therapist for nearly 25 years. Spiritual and Personal Growth issues are dealt with regularly in his monthly Ezine The Hungry Times Journal. The above piece was excerpted from his Personal Growth book Parables for a Modern Age. He has authored 3 such books and is also a performing songwriter. He can be reached through his Website at: http://www.mauriceturmel.com

Author:: Maurice Turmel
Keywords:: Self, Soul, Feelings, Emotions, Guidance, opening up, inner voice, Inspiration, Motivation, Growth
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Poems from the Attic

1) The Flower of the Field

One day when I was walking

In the fields of Ol St. Paul,
I glanced upon a flower

And asked three questions in all

I said with wonder (and creed):

How do you grow, Little Flower

Amongst all the suckling weeds?
How do you grow, Little Flower

With the Sun baking your knees?

Then responded the flower

(pleased):

I was planted with a Good Seed.

Notes: Dedicated to Ximena from Huancayo, Peru; written 1981, in West Fargo, North Dakota, and St. Paul, Minnesota. #80

2) The Dreamers Castle

I told you I was a dreamer,

You told me I was a fool:
Yet from dreaming I built my Castle

(I know) From scheming you built yours, too.

Now our castles stand adjacent

Made of stone, wood, and glass:
Butthe difference between our castles
Is that,

Yours lies in quicksand.

Note: Originally published in 1982, in the book Eternal Echoes, Vol II, by Poetry Press.

3)The Vision

(The Stepping Stone)

He was lost one night in wonder,
Thinking of the world and its foes
When, on a peak, two thousand feet,
He saw it, in the falling snow.

It was a city beyond all reason
Made of illuminating crimson gold.
He wondered how to each it
Beyond its skies of blue.

Then he saw a falling rainbow
With colors of velvet hue
Two angels softly laid it
Over this city of golden hue.

Then he cried, O Lord! let me enter
For this world I dwell in, is blind.
Then he heard a golden voice say,
Its a stepping stone to mine.

Note: Originally published in The American Poetry Anthology, Volume I, Number 2, summer of 1982.

4)The Messiah

Like pelts stretched from side-to-side
On a wooden cross, undressed, alive
The Messiah hung, like a wild beast,
Uncouth, uncrowned, no dignity.
Debonedlike fishHis body hung;
Lifeless, deformed, in silent pain.
Dried blood upon His ransomed face,
Eyes decaying, hardly seen.
Pores hemorrhaging with a gloss of sweet;
Skin like mounds of inflamed tar
(like boils reflecting off dark shaded ice).
Deep distress around His soot-covered veins,
A mixture of Saliva, Dirt and Shame;
Ugly as sin, beyond recognition
(like open incisions of an autopsy).

Acquainted with grief, yes, oh Yes!
As the prophets foretold, long ago.
A new scene, we became REDEEMED!!

Notes: Originally written in 1987; published in the book, National Library of Poetry, (won Editors choice Award in the North American Poetry Competition of l988, out of 10,000 entries) also published in the book, Siren, 2003.

See Dennis' web site: http://dennissiluk.tripod.com

Author:: Dennis Siluk
Keywords:: Poetry
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Songs and Poems

Darkness

Uneven ... the glow
a glow ... supposed
a tool shown to mystery guests
and traveling pests.
Unraveled in harvested moons
your tunes
wrestled tunes
yet oh ... my captured wounds.
I wrap them around cellophane hearts
a tour ... be proud
somehow lost in a crowd
glasses high
toast to the note-cards
that sort out my mind against hypocrisies
I sort out my mind ... in the end

PS
There are days of unregistered rhymes
and they seem to be advancing upon undying darkness

What changes us?

What makes us decide 'one day'.... that 'this day' we will do better?

'This day' we will smile on everything as if we were seeing it for the first time.
'This day' we will take time out for our own selves.
'This day' we will climb that emotional mountain that seemed inconceivable 'yesterday'.
'This day' we 'will' do what we had only 'hoped' we would do 'before'.< /p>

'This day' we will FLY.

BE PROUD!

Now

I seem to have new pathways to assemble.
The steam reaches out and irons out the discontentment of time.
I step past memories and longings and reach out.
Life is unclear
impossible to be real.
Days go by and I find myself in a new reality,
a reality of happy.
You lend me the fragrance of freedom,
the air of pause,
in the water and substance there is a tranquility I have never known.
My soldier of old,
my lament,
I am always so afraid they'll take you from me.
I dare not completely touch today
or sleep and find you gone,
and learn you have never been with me at all.
So I smile on the pathway
maneuver my continence.
I cannot live in the shadow of regret
and not see what is right there in front of me.
This spirit being now and present, not meant to be over analyzed.
There are doors belonging to freedom
and t hey all have special handles.
I can decorate them, understand them, hold them, charm them,
or let them go.

Tiny Remains

Unconnected thoughts that ring in much decay,
where the survivors scramble and tears never end.
Emotions run high and moods decide,
generosity is a cure for strangers,
but you and I..... divide into equal parts,
and squabble over tiny remains.

Sunsets

She travels with magic on a mystical ride.
She walks in the moonlight
and covers my mind.
She travels the road down past the pines,
where the mist meets the morning
'fore the river turns ice.

We gather up petals
from the flowers that have died.
She travels with magic
on a mystical ride,
pointing out sunsets
and ponies to ride.
So just see how it goes
how the magic unfolds
how the children you've known
lend out sea covered rhymes
still fasting
but no longer cold.

Autumn Has Seasoned Me Well

Content to be understood in a casual way and yet...

He was a most attentive healer.
Every space and corner he defined in me.
I so tastefully wore a crown.
No one around.
Stayed and stayed...
he remembered he had not seen me in full bloom.
All things considered I should have waited to hear the rest,
but patients gathered in the hallways,
wounds too deep to mind.
Who can contend with such a lover?
At least I know that I don't heal well.
There were reprieves I had not considered,
but Autumn...
Autumn has seasoned me well.

Break Not Your Heart

a song:

1)
There will be times
and treasures I've known,
there will be rivers
melted with snow.

2)
There will be dreams
attached to autumn leaves,
there will be springtime
and reasons to flee.

Chorus:
And break not your heart
hold back the wound s
however inflicted
they were not meant for you.

3)
There will be seas
only airplanes and ships adorn
there will be silence
for a sorrow too worn.

4)
There will be sighs
as the ruler points wrong
yet... there will be comfort
in the rainbow of song.

Chorus

Break:
Time passes by
I plot to hear you call
and yet I know why
and have accepted it all.

Chorus

Reality

a song:

Magic motions used to set my soul ablaze,
until I noticed in the most spectacular form
that little heartbeats
are most easily swayed
and had most certainly swayed me.
My only restitutions being
the crudeness of reality.
A springboard to what I thought would be
the very end of me
turned out to be
the very depths of me.
Oh... unkind blow
vexation of my heart
the knife that penetrated ever so deeply
gave me reality.

Befor e We Go

(a poem for Diana and Robert)

The heros of selfish wounds
owned by summer
not forgotten by fall.
As silent as glances
down a long dark hall.
Their end is as painful as their deed,
chosen so hastily.
There are looks I'd like to share,
silences I would treasure.
There are smiles I'd like to say
silenced now forever.
Their children picked flowers at the neighbors
running across the street saying,
Before we go, before we go. Heros are owned by children,
if they choose to remember them that way.

The Hero Wore Black

The hero wore black.
The echo bore gifts,
and no one knows
the broken hope
as much as you and I.
Shadows dancing
in the dark.
The honorable heartbeat
in the chest.
Do you know I hope for you?
Save hope for you?

Miles Away

a song:

Chorus: It rains miles away, miles and miles away
It rains miles a way, miles and miles away

1)
I don't want to steal your dreams away.
I don't want my presence to intrude...
on you.
I used a compass to find this place.
I used the moon to guide me through
your moods.
You say...
you're only miles away.

2)
She smiled and said, Well yes I know,
there's an element that seems to grow,
in all of us.
I think you've learned
to talk very far.
You give the feeling that your sorrow never ends,
but it's not as if the rain didn't fall here too,
when it fell on you.

Chorus

3)
There is an element of conscience,
that keeps blowing thru cool winds,
and I think if you don't stop to listen,
I might lose before I win.
New things are hard to handle.
It's unclear of what's to gain,
But after all
its' like you say
you're only miles away.

Chorus

About Me Kathy Ostman-Magnusen Hawaii, United States

Aloha! I am a figurative Artist and Illustrator. If you check out my website you will see that I am very prolific in Oils. My paintings are collected worldwide. I also do sculpture; images available upon request. I have illustrated for Hay House Inc. , Neil Davidson, who was considered for the Pulitzer Prize in feature writing, and several other publications. I also enjoy story writing and poetry. All of the paintings,stories and poems on my site and blogs are written by me. Website: http://www.kathysart.com and one of my blogs: http://kathysart.blogspot.com/ Aloha!

Author:: Kathy Ostman-Magnusen
Keywords:: mermaid baby, passion series, art Kathy Ostman Magnusen,African Series,Hawaiian Legacy,Artist, Oils
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Poetry: as a Taskmaster And an Ode

The art of Poetry is a long and lonely road, it is best not to give your life to it, unless it is your lifeand unavoidable (or so I feel). The soul of it is a hard taskmaster. You must be faithful to it, like a woman, or you will be cheated. You must first have her over for dinner, and make sure she doesnt think you have forgotten her; in such a case, make peace with her quick, she will haunt you with her launching of whatever comes to her mind.

She does call me quite frequently, in my sleep, waking hours, here and there, and everywhere:

Dont let my calls disturb you, she says.

I really dont know how I get anything doneI am surprised when I find a spare moment for my own pleasure. She turns her expressions inside of me, upside down: slowly spins on her heels (with her young curves and s lippers). And then she opens her wardrobe, and says:

Lets go! (I suppose it means shopping?)

You see, she is quite busy with me!

[Poetic Prose: #1100; 1/25/06

Ode to the: Lurking Ripples

Here, ripples the wind

Did the song of hell pass?

The abyss-door was open

Something trampled in the

Grass!

A shape, a shapeI see,

Vivid as the veins in me;

Evil lurks (sublimity)!...

Note: The poem: Ode to the: Lurking Ripples, is dedicated to (both): Clark A. Smith for opening the vaults of hell with Poetry, and George Sterling, for decontaminating them; both whiz kid in their own right. Each reading one another (the old and the new), and both providing great Poetry, if not phenomenal. [#1099 1/25/06

See Dennis' web site: http://dennissiluk.tripod.com

Author:: Dennis Siluk
Keywords:: Poetry
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