In his second book of narrative, lyric poetry, Richard Blanco explores the familiar, unsettling journey for home and connections, those anxious musings about other lives: Should I live here? Could I live here?” Whether the exotic (I’m struck with Maltese fever I dream of buying a little Maltese farm ) or merely different (Today, home is a cottage with morning in the yawn of an open window ”), he examines the restlessness that threatens from merely staying put, the fear of too many places and too little time. The words are redolent with his Cuban heritage: Marina making mole sauce; Tía Ida bitter over the revolution, missing the sisters who fled to Miami; his father, especially, his hair once as black as the black of his oxfords ” Yet this is a volume for all who have longed for enveloping arms and words, and for that sanctuary called home. So much of my life spent like this-suspended, moving toward unknown places and names or returning to those I know, corresponding with the paradox of crossing, being nowhere yet here.” Blanco embraces juxtaposition. There is the Cuban Blanco, the American Richard, the engineer by day, the poet by heart, the rhythms of Spanish, the percussion of English, the first-world professional, the immigrant, the gay man, the straight world. There is the ennui behind the question: why cannot I not just live where I live? Too, there is the precious, fleeting relief when he can write " I am, for a moment, not afraid of being no more than what I hear and see, no more than this:..." It is what we all hope for, too.
Richard Blanco was born in Madrid in 1968, immigrating as an infant with his Cuban-exile family to the U.S. He was raised and educated in Miami, earning a B.S. in civil engineering and a M.F.A. in creative writing from Florida International University.
In 2013, Blanco was chosen to serve as the fifth inaugural poet of the United States, following in the footsteps as such great writers as Robert Frost and Maya Angelou. Blanco performed One Today, an original poem he wrote for the occasion, becoming the youngest, first Latino, immigrant and openly gay writer to hold the honor.
Following the inauguration, he continued connecting communities through occasional poetry. He has written and performed occasional poems for such organizations as Freedom to Marry, the Tech Awards and the Fragrance Awards. In May of 2013, Blanco wrote Boston Strong, a poem he performed at the Boston Garden Benefit Concert and at a Red Sox game at Fenway. Following his performances, he released a limited edition Boston Strong chapbook, with all proceeds going to those most affected by the Boston Marathon bombings.
His books, in order of publication, are: City of a Hundred Fires (1998), Directions to the Beach of the Dead (2005), Looking for the Gulf Motel (2012), One Today (2013), Boston Strong (2013), and For All of Us, One Today: An Inaugural Poet’s Journey (2013).
Blanco has received numerous honors for his writings and performances, including an honorary doctorate from Macalester College and being named a Woodrow Wilson Visiting Fellow. His first book, City of a Hundred Fires received the prestigious Agnes Starrett Poetry Prize. His second book, Directions to the Beach of the Dead won the PEN / American Beyond Margins Award. His third book, Looking for The Gulf Motel received various accolades, including the Tom Gunn Award, the Maine Literary Award and the Paterson Prize. His poems have appeared in countless literary journals and anthologies, including Best American Prose Poems and Ploughshares.
Blanco has been a practicing engineer, writer and poet since 1991. He has traveled extensively in his adult life, living and working throughout Europe and South America. He has taught at Georgetown University, American University, Writer’s Center and Central Connecticut State University. Blanco currently lives and writes in the tranquil mountains of Bethel, Maine.
I don’t normally read poetry but I’m glad I picked this one up. It’s short, it’s sweet, it’s creative, it’s inspirational. I will probably reread it at some point.
Yeah, I read fast. This is even better than the first. I feel more depth and a broader vision in these poems. Still the rich Cuban language and spirit, especially mangoes. Many references to mangoes. My favorites are "How Can You Love New York" which I can now relate to because I finally got to NYC last year., "Where It Begins, Where It Ends" is an interesting form poem, "No More Than This, Provincetown". He does prose poems which I generally do not like but his are very good and not too long. The poems about Rome and travel are excellent. As I mentioned, his world view appears to have expanded in this volume.
Blanco's(often) meditative poems are finely crafted, imagistically alive, and tonally diverse, and his capacity to move fluidly between English and Spanish without losing the reader is commendable. These poems are smart with big hearts and an open arms.
I am really enjoying Richard Blanco's poetry and I am very thankful he was tapped for the inauguration because I don't know if I would have discovered him otherwise. The first half of the book are travel inspired and the second half deal with family. My favorites were "After Barcelona, In Barcelona" and "Empty Crosswords".
It took me a little bit longer to get into this book, as opposed to his other work. I think it is because in his other work, he focuses on his family and his upbringing, and this one felt like the focus wasn't clear. He touches on so many aspects of his life.
That doesn't make it any less beautiful, or poignant. It just didn't hit the same high notes as his memoir and his other work of poetry.
Richard Blanco did a beautiful reading of his poem "One Today" at President Obama's second inauguration. That poem, like his other work, is finely crafted, earthy, direct, visual, and powerful. His poems sing when read aloud. Read this one--from Directions to the Beach of the Dead--and see for yourself:
No More Than This, Provincetown
Today, home is a cottage with morning in the yawn of an open window. I watch the crescent moon, like a wind-blown sail, vanish. Blue slowly fills the sky and light regains the trust of wildflowers blooming with fresh spider webs spun stem to stem. The room rises with the toasting of bread, a stick of butter puddling in a dish, a knife at rest, burgundy apples ready to be halved, a pint of blueberries bleeding on the counter, and little more than this. A nail in the wall with a pair of disembodied jeans, a red jersey, and shoes embossed by the bones of my feet and years of walking. I sit down to breakfast over the nicks of a pinewood table and I am, for a moment, not afraid of being no more than what I hear and see, no more than this: the echo of bird songs filling an empty vase, the shadow of a sparrow moving through the shadow of a tree, disturbing nothing.
A delightful set of themed sections on identity while traveling, at the dinner table, and while spending time with family and lovers. It's a really good book of poetry worth anyone's read. Blanco really comes through with his fluid presentation of a pan-latin americanism that is as optimistic as it is thoughtful. Some of these that I mean are "Bargaining with a Goddess, After Rigoberta Menchu" and "My Campo Santo". In the latter, some might say he is riding a fine line of "colorblindness," but I can attest to at least the emotions Blanco seems to feel. As someone who has moved in a similar fashion to Blanco, that empathetical quality tends to be seen as presumptuous and laughable even to me, though I would never label my family's situation as "exile". It is possible, however, from within a racially privileged Latino, for Blanco's empathy for Latin Americans as sincere. Some might not believe it, but demonstrates it well enough for me to stop and say "yas," pretty regularly. Thank you Obama, for presenting Blanco to the world.
"....like a violin bow across the shoes's vamp, turning his wisps and strokes into music." Thats' what Blanco does, turns wisps and strokes and samba feet and barnacled docks and so much more into music.
from "Returning Shine" ( p. 31) in which Blanco describes an every other Thursday night shoe-shining ritual with his abuelo (grandfather).
Don't miss "The Perfect City Code" for M.C. (p. 36) "1(b) There shall be a canopy of trees; these shall be your favorite: Giant Royal Palms, 25 feet high, whereas their fronds shall meet in cathedral-like arches with a continuous breeze that shall slip in our sleeves and flutter against our bodies so as to produce angel-like sensations of eternity." lucky M.C.
I am not generally one for poetry, having had it rammed down my throat in high school and college English classes.
But a reading challenge had the category "a book of poetry". I wandered the stacks of my library and saw this little book that somehow caught my eye.
This is something about Blanco's writing that spoke to me. His imagery with words enabled me to see the places he talked about, feel the emotions he was trying to convey. The poems "The Return from El Cerrado" and "How Can You Love New York" each made me pause in my readings to just absorb the emotions and images.
I can see what this poet was selected as the "2013 Inaugural poet" by President Barack Obama.
This is a warm bath of a book of poems. It immerses you in the world of its creator, or should I say worlds, for there is much diversity amongst these lovely pieces. Nostalgia for and fidelity to the past is the dominant undertone, and not just to the past in some abstract sense, but to the language, the smells, the tastes, the sounds thereof. Blanco is justly proud of his heritage and carries his love for it in his verse, a love he shares generously with the reader. This is wonderful poetry.
I enjoyed this more than Blanco's first book of poetry, partly because the subject matter was more accessible to me and partly because I am used to his rhythm now. I am continually impressed by the fact that he continues to work as an engineer between his books of poetry. It adds another dimension to his poems.
For as much as these poems seems to be preoccupied with the paradox of travel ("being nowhere yet here"), they are first about the power of words and their ability to preserve and invoke the things we've lost.
I got this book as part of my service on a special committee. Richard Blanco is coming to Oklahoma in spring 2015, so I was glad to read this collection of his poems. I enjoyed Searching for the Gulf Motel more, but this collection is also fine.
Blanco is my generation and speaks to our common experiences as Gay Americans, what I love are his quiet insights. No fanfare, just gently taking you by the hand and pointing something out.
The cover of this book alone is worth the price of admission, not to mention the earnest collection of poems that move me beyond and made me feel hopeful for what we can become.
Loved this collection of Richard Blanco's poems. First heard of him in connection to Obama and an invitation to the White House. What a beautiful find, wonderful to listen to and easy to enjoy.