Paul Attinello

Category: Writings: Poetry

  • On ‘Her Face’

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    by

    paulattinello
    in

    I should explain…. Ma Jaya Sati Bhagavati is spiritual leader of Kashi Ashram, in central Florida. She is also an important AIDS activist – which is how I met her in the late 1980s (I think it was 1989). One of her followers in Los Angeles was also my AIDS Project Los Angeles phone buddy…

  • Her Face

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    by

    paulattinello
    in

    for Ma Jaya 1. Arc and klieg lights, endless fusion: the spark leaps from one to the next, a barely, fiercely controlled explosion. Paintings melt in profusion, pouring fire down the walls, flaring acrylics shimmer through the alarmed, the seduced lens: the walls melt into us – 2. Sheer visual density of the figure: the…

  • Dialectic of Enlightenment

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    by

    paulattinello
    in

    I open the door, turn on the light and smile in your direction. Fog burns away, the morning glows. Fractured reflection, light from your arms. I touch them often. Much later, in the hospital,spots like acid burnson your bloated torso. Sea-waves in your eyes; the waitress loves your jokes. I lean back into golden haze.…

  • Near Sea

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    by

    paulattinello
    in

    Traffic on the bridge is heavy. Your foot tiring on the clutch. Pull into the marina; that must be your boat, I read the painted name. Stand alone on the deck, cool salt breeze, turn slowly, about to call to you – I am far from home, the wind blows flesh off my bones I…

  • In bed

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    by

    paulattinello
    in

    [Los Angeles, 1990] Float in white, not touching earth.Hide quietly. Blurred moments, sense of shifting consciousness and dreams, a time that goes in starts and fragments, processes and gaps, reversals – I hear the mail crash through the door, the sound of panic: ancient bills, requests to steam clean unreal carpets, and most frightening: friendly…

  • Explaining Nachiketas

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    by

    paulattinello
    in , ,

    I probably need to explain the previous poem, and the story of Nachiketas, and my own connection with it. I’ll tell all this from my point of view… which might seem a bit roundabout, but if you’re patient I’ll get to it. In the late 1980s and early 1990s, there were three powerful forces keeping…

  • The Song of Nachiketas

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    by

    paulattinello
    in ,

    “At last his father turned on him in anger. ‘Enough!’ he said. ‘Why should I give you to God? I’d rather hand you over to Death!’ As a dutiful son, Nachiketas took him at his word, and set out at once for the House of Death.” – The Katha Upanishad, translated by Thomas Byrom I.…

  • [untitled]

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    by

    paulattinello
    in ,

    Ravel glides through my fingers into air. My touch is shaky, robe falling loose, aches span my ribs, so tired. Not tired of thinking of you: dark, broad chords spin out past the lamp’s circle. Conjuring you into the room behind me: would you turn away if I made a mistake, would you leave the…

  • [untitled]

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    by

    paulattinello
    in

    He is nearly on time. He smiles. We talk of rents, deposits. He laughs about a former lover, I earnestly explain the thermostat. He says he’s very interested. I pass him, feeling a wave of heat, to go into the kitchen. He follows, and we discuss our sleeping habits. When he is gone, I stand,…

  • Seasons

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    by

    paulattinello
    in

    This frozen twilight, ice holds my breathing under and alone. I brush away wet darkened leaves, lean down on your grave… Direct, above, strong sun gives flame to your arm across my back; I push aside green branches, catch your morning eyes and smile – [Los Angeles, 11/4/91-9/21/92]