poetry
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Time is a blind birdfalling over you,vanishing into blue petals, while the windsweeps away the whistlesand calms the raging waves. This pumping red rose,hidden behind bone bars,turned into black pebbles,spinning in the depths of the ocean. Everything I knew of thronesand queens of heartsis now an ancient tale, a foreign citywhere accentswere the only strength…
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‘The ocean of fire’ (2024). Gaby Sambuccetti.Image: @jayzzy86 In this land there are threads of gold that make your feet bleed,like the one left on the shore of this sea. And sometimes,the kindness of this soil can be foundin the most unexpected places: Where Aphrodite is notthe goddess of love,nor Venus a planet without torment.…
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In November I was invited to a talk at the Oxford Writers’ House. The Oxford Writers’ House is a wonderful organisation at the heart of Oxford. April Elisabeth Pawar is the director and founder. I totally love this organisation, not only because I used to be its former co-director of events, but also because it’s…
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Last week I was very glad to joined a beautiful poetry gig at the street in Buenos Aires (Argentina) organised by Zapallo Cosmo (Romina Funes et al). I was invited by a wonderful argentine poet of all times Romina Freschi. it was really fun and I was able to sing a song that I like…
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Some photos from yesterday when I was performing my poems with the amazing band Akolá Tambó at the British Library. Oscar Guardiola-Rivera was also performing his wonderful words with the band. it was awesome ❤️ so many friends and talented people. I loved the experience. Very grateful to the organisers Oscar, Colin Grant , Writers…
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El Hay festival estuvo espectacular Hay Festival . #hayfestival2024 Muchas gracias a los organizadores del Hay festival y de Writers Mosaic Writers Mosaic que me hicieron sentir como una Queen total ✨😂; nos dieron todo lo que necesitábamos y más para una buena estadía. No creo que haya vivido un festival similar como poeta. Fueron…
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Soy un pollo.En un horno.Sobre el metal caliente. Hay una llama. Está esa llama. Que me enciende.Mi sol es una hornalla.Mi sol es el gas abierto.Ese hombre con sombrero es el único que se pregunta cómo estoy.Me mira tanto que a veces siento que me acosa.Su tenedor me dejó cuatro puntos.También me baña en sales.En sus…
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A Poet is Dead. A dead poetdoesn’t write anymore.Doesn’t it? I asked.A dead poet doesn’t write anymore. No. But some days ago,he was alive,and he wasn’t writing anyway. Yes, but he’s currently dead.Very dead.And he doesn’t write anymore. I’m afraid: no. Some people have told me that they saw him during a party,he was drinking…
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My amazing friend and talented writer, Cleo Campuzano, translated one of my poems into Catalan: “Algunes vegades, només vull fer-me un petó en el meu propi front abans de quedar-me adormida.” To read it + her amazing translations:https://www.lairreductible.com/es/noticias/la-meva-vulnerabilitat_173?fbclid=IwAR38dzJdf3Gh60cpkSLNpo_Q9MLSO2wplfcMtVDih12u9iNatB6jyK4d_gk
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Today I found this article in the Lenguas Vivas magazine in Argentina (Buenos Aires) in which one of my articles about Perlongher was cited. It was written by Léonce Lupette. It can be found here (Spanish only) https://ieslvf-caba.infd.edu.ar/…/2024/03/RevistaLV_19.pdf * Hoy encontre un artículo en una revista del Lenguas Vivas en el que citan un trabajo…
Gaby Sambuccetti 