Biography of michael hogan
MICHAEL HOGAN was born in Newport, Rhode Island in 1943. He is the author of twenty-two books including novels, histories, social and political essays, short story collections and poetry. His work has received two Pushcart Prizes, an NEA Creative Writing Fellowship, a PEN Award, the Benjamin Franklin Award and the gold medal of the Mexican Geographical Society. His poetry is widely anthologized and appears in many textbooks. Hogan has worked as consultant for the Western States Arts Foundation, for the Poets in the Schools programs in Arizona, Colorado and California, and for the National Endowment for the Arts conducting writing workshops in prisons. For two decades he was head of the English Department at the prestigious American School of Guadalajara and, most recently, was Latin American Consultant to the State Department’s Office of Overseas Schools. He lives in Guadalajara with the textile artist Lucinda Mayo and their dog, Molly Malone.
“Hogan’s poems are virtually free of the ego and fake emotion, the public posturing and self-regard that infect so much recent poetry. For Hogan to undertake the poem is to undertake the possibility of radical transformation. The humility and compassion of his poems warm me when others leave me chilled to the bone. He rewards the reader with intelligence and warmth and a wide sweep of understanding.” Sam Hamill, American Poetry Review.
michael hogan's Works:
Letters for My Son (1975)
If You Ever Get There, Think of Me (1976)
Soon It Will Be Morning (1976)
Risky Business (1978)
The Broken Face of Summer (1981)
Making Our Own Rules (1989)
Imperfect Geographies (1998)
Winter Solstice: Selected Poems 1975-2012
A Lion At A Cocktail Party (1978)
Molly Malone and the San Patricios (1998)
A Death in Newport (2011)
Molly Malone y Los San Patricios. Trans. by Ivy Becerra. (2012)
A Lion At A cocktail Party: 25th Anniversary Edition (2013)
A Metaphorical Piano (2013)
Intelligent Mistakes: Grammar Supplement for Latin Americans Writing in English (1991)
The Irish Soldiers of Mexico: A History of the San Patricio Battalion (1997)
Los Soldados Irlandeses de México. Trans. by Clever Chávez Marín. (1998)
A Writers Manual for Inmates in Correctional Institutions (2001)
Teaching from the Heart: Working At International Schools in Latin America (2003)
Savage Capitalism: Latin America in the Third Millennium (2010)
Newport: A Writer’s Beginnings (2012)
michael hogan Poems
In memoriam Francis X. Hogan (1913-1974) On Sunday mornings in March my father would take a homemade kite broad as his back
Newport, The Fifties
I was raised in the decade of the death of the elms with the sight of Sputnik twinkling in the night sky where one could walk the last of the driftwood beaches and see weathered cottages beyond the dunes.
Poem On My 70th Birthday
After a night of rain eucalyptus hangs heavy and redolent with damp breath. Ground fog clings to unmown grasses in the park where the dog bounds like a joyful shadow.
The moon fades over Arizona and the morning sun is more dangerous. Even the rain when it finally falls is no friend to man or woman either. Toads cry like lost children when the torrent ceases
The Terrace, St. Tropez
A girl reclining by an open window. I do not say this way the only thing one saw that day. There was a strip of luminous green,
Lovers You Have Known
The one you could not wait for so you went ahead as children do in the snow to make fallen angels.
Where it comes from is anybody's guess but on a clear afternoon when the earth is brilliant with its own shining— Chinese lanterns of red maples
Love In A Time Of Alzheimer's
Every morning she is born again the tree sparrows singing in the maples the sun coming through the venetian blinds. An awakening from a sleep so profound
2380 Market Street
When her husband died she developed a fear of open places. It happened suddenly. One morning she walked outside and the world was one great vista. Trees were flying off in space. There seemed a mile of lawn between her house and the
Dark and lugubrious, his eyes signify no intent beyond brooding. All day he has been posed on thermals as if the land would rise like a hand
for Lucinda At the southernmost point the sun stands guarding a place
One Summer In Charleston
Not far from the Cooper River Bridge this cornfield ends in marshland. A solitary crow goes there and returns. This morning, children from our farm,
On Translating A Mexican Poet
No es lo mismo decir ventana que "window." - Camilo José Cela Outside the hummingbird blinks
-Viña del Mar, Chile Ascend those hills away from glitz of Malecón and Casino where streets tangle around themselves and stone buildings
-Viña del Mar, Chile
Ascend those hills away from glitz of Malecón and Casino
where streets tangle around themselves and stone buildings
built by Spaniards still stained with blood
hold the damp and mold of age-old conquest.
Teens spill out of noisy antros and climb cobblestone hills
watched by bouncers with swollen arms and faces cold as gargoyles.
Below the looming bulk of El Castillo