Tag Archives: UnSung Poets

UnSung Poets: Elías Nandino

Elías Nandino

Elías Nandino

Birth: April 19, 1900 
Death: October 2, 1993

 Cocula Mexican poet born in Jalisco, in 1900. Besides his work as a doctor, Nandino supported many young poets from the magazine he founded and directed. Edited collection of books “New Mexico” directed “Stations” and from 1960 to 1964 was director of “Cuadernos de Bellas Artes.” In 1979 he received the National Prize of Literature Award and the Poetry of Aguascalientes. Each of his poems contains a fragment of time. Poet Dreamer, linking life and death, love and hate, with an indestructible bridge of words, dreams and realities. “Wreck of the doubt” in 1950, “Triangle of silence” in 1953, “Night summa” in 1955, “Eternity Dust” in 1970, and “Night word” in 1976, constitute a significant sample of his work as poeta.Murió in Guadalajara, Mexico in 1993.

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POEMS :

Love Without Death
Dust will be, but dust in love.
~Quevedo

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I love and the love I feel
I exist, I have life
and I’m burning my escape
ever born.

I love and every moment
love, my death is urged,
a love without measure
in continual burning.

But when love and do not try
because my body off
absorbent earth again:

everything will be devoured,
but not the burning love
dust of my love.

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Within Me


With eyes
highly peering into the night
look at the stars
and, within me,
tireless in the river of my blood,
the feel and discover
reflected,
bright and deep,
involved was as if my
the same sky
where they are burning

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Night Sum

Spelling space and do not understand
the drops of light at night
trembling, which expand, which will shrink
and expressed from the sky
phrases of the light pulse.

I do not know if it is high or deep
overlook the site where,
or whether they are or are not, but I look
like a swarm of islands in fire
and suffer its attraction, its intense brightness,
her timid look …

The story, often many times …
I forget the account and stop me
has to start again
and loses again, always falling
in the escape of a number scattered.

The story, often many times …
And if joy to have, is because I feel
that captures more and more, the Creator,
when I add and I join in their stars.

UnSung Poets : Joyce Kilmer WW1

Alfred Joyce Kilmer (December 6, 1886 – July 30, 1918) was an American journalist, poet, literary critic, lecturer, and editor. Though a prolific poet whose works celebrated the common beauty of the natural world as well as his religious faith, Kilmer is remembered most for a short poem entitled “Trees” (1913), which was published in the collection Trees and Other Poems in 1914. While most of his works are unknown, a select few of his poems remain popular and are published frequently in anthologies. Several critics, both Kilmer’s contemporaries and modern scholars, disparaged Kilmer’s work as being too simple, overly sentimental, and suggested that his style was far too traditional, even archaic.

At the time of his deployment to Europe during the first World War (1914–1918), Kilmer was considered the leading American Catholic poet and lecturer of his generation, whom critics often compared to British contemporaries G. K. Chesterton (1874–1936) and Hilaire Belloc (1870–1953).[1][2][3] A sergeant in the 165th U.S. Infantry Regiment (better known as ‘The Fighting 69th), Kilmer was killed at the Second Battle of the Marne in 1918 at the age of 31.

Joyce Kilmer...Poet

  119. Trees   I THINK that I shall never see  A poem lovely as a tree.     A tree whose hungry mouth is prest  Against the sweet earth’s flowing breast;     A tree that looks at God all day,         5 And lifts her leafy arms to pray;     A tree that may in summer wear  A nest of robins in her hair;     Upon whose bosom snow has lain;  Who intimately lives with rain.  10    Poems are made by fools like me,  But only God can make a tree.