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eamelinopoet · 5 years

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#streetphotography #streetphoto_bw #new york city photography #women are beautiful #millennnials #black and white #monochrome

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eamelinopoet · 5 years

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#washington square park #streetphotography #garry winogrand #streetphoto_bw #new york street photography #New York City #women are beautiful

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eamelinopoet · 5 years

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#streetphotography #streetphoto_bw #black and white #streetphotographynyc #women are beautiful smartphone

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eamelinopoet · 6 years

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I carry... says the father interviewed on the radio as I shave. He's come to see his daughter in Las Vegas.

the rifle round that slid up her thigh and into her belly now snuggles her spine. I'm still a Second Amendment person, he says...

#second amendment #antigunviolence #gun control #gun controversy #mass shooting #american carnage #gun carnage #false idol #idol worship

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eamelinopoet · 6 years

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“The object of art is not to make salable pictures. It is to save yourself… Most people remain all of their lives in a stupor. The point of being an artist is that you may live.”

— On Fathers Day, the beautiful letter of advice on art and life Sherwood Anderson sent to his young son when he left home to be an artist.

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eamelinopoet · 6 years

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“Ghazal: The Wall” first published in Contemporary Ghazals No.6, Winter 2016. Online on AmericanGhazal, a Transmedia Lyric.

#ghazal #poetry #political poem #love poetry #lyricpoetry #lyric poem #agha shahid ali #poetry form #form poetry #no wall #the wall

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eamelinopoet · 6 years

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eamelinopoet · 6 years

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My translation and the Spanish original of Federico García Lorca’s ghazal from his last collection of poems, Diván del Tamarit. He completed it around 1934. Two years later, in August 1936, he was executed by Spanish fascists. Originally published in Selections from Lorca’s Diván del Tamarit at AmericanGhazal.com.

Graphic is a public domain image of Lorca’s actual signature.

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eamelinopoet · 6 years

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"Woman with Smartphone @ e-Sign"

#smartphone #new york city #digital life #street photography #new york street photography #2018 #black and white photography #milennials

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eamelinopoet · 6 years

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First published on The Beloved Infidel, a transmdedia lyric.

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eamelinopoet · 6 years

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eamelinopoet · 6 years

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St. Lannes' Sculpture "American Boy" Watching Over American Boys at Play

“American Boy” by the French sculptor Louis St. Lannes orginally adorned Rice Stadium in Bronx NY’s Pelham Bay Park. The plaque reads:

"Youth is entitled to freedom. The future of our civilization depends on our children. It is essential, if we can hope for human progress, that children should be unfettered by the domination and the conventions of the past. We owe to youth an untrammeled happiness guided but not stultified by stern obedience to rigid rules set down by their elders. The proper spirit of play must be encouraged. It is the natural instinct of the young. A healthy clean mind in a strong clean body is the ideal for which we should strive."

#pelham bay park #bronx #the bronx #new york city #newyorkcity #art #sculpture #youth

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eamelinopoet · 6 years

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“Ghazal: My Love” by E.A.Melino, from American Ghazal.

#ghazal #poetry #love poetry #love poem #political poem

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eamelinopoet · 6 years

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"Foxtrotting with Desirée" #lovepoems #marriage #poetry #poetsofinstagram #poetryisnotdead #lyricpoetry #ballroomdance #ballroom #ballroomdancing #newyorkcity #washingtonsquarepark

#ballroom #poetry #lovepoems #ballroomdance #poetryisnotdead #marriage #ballroomdancing #washingtonsquarepark #newyorkcity #poetsofinstagram #lyricpoetry

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eamelinopoet · 6 years

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The Beloved Infidel

The last time my father and I argued politics he told me I was lost. You’ll never learn, he said, pointing his cane at my chest, then hobbled off to his room.

Now he rarely leaves it, nodding out in his chair, cane at his feet, talk radio softly droning endless litanies against the world, never any music, the walls of shelves a citadel of plastic sports figurines like small colorful household gods, and among them me, the beloved infidel at sixteen clad in the maroon and gold of a champion.

You need money? he asks, suddenly wakened when I kiss him goodbye. He does not wait for my refusal. I love you, he mumbles, cold rough fingers fondling my hand before drifting off. Above us the figurines revel on, his hero Willie Mays still making that famous catch, hands raised forever toward heaven and the American dream. I set his cane where he can reach, then leave him before the dreams return that make him whimper in his sleep.

- Eugene A. Melino

Poem was originally published on The Beloved Infidel.

Image of the author at 16, first string center for the Pelham Spartans, Bronx Umpire Association league champions three years in a row, 1973, 1974 and 1975.

#poetry #poets on tumblr #poems on tumblr #poems about family #old age #fathers and sons #father love #poetry is not dead #poetry is life #bronx #new york city #Bronx poems

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eamelinopoet · 6 years

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My favorite is #9.

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eamelinopoet · 6 years

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Poetry’s value proposition well sung.

maybe it’s more valuable than anything

i can’t help feeling like i’m wasting something valuable when i read poem after poem, after poem. i could be learning Greek, i could be learning higher principles of marketing, formulas for copywriting and business success, more…

what makes me feel better, though, is when you follow that stuff to the end, it all leads to the same place. and poems are a kind of shortcut,

they get you to the gorgeous brains you want to love in Greece, with money or success,

as a writer, maybe a gardener.

poems are beyond flesh, plastic,

they’re under layers of makeup and jeans that make your ass look good, they’re under one more sit-up,

they’re heads sawed down the noseline, wishes pouring out, sadness like waterfalls hidden in the woods. love in the optic nerve.

everything in front of us, behind, around,

it all started with poemstuff.

now how can that be a waste?

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