Leo Briones Poems
Comments about Leo Briones
The Church Of The Valentine
From the very distance of my soul fathomless like the sea but sad like the dry creek embedded between the desert's rolling dunes,
I have risen here to place my light upon the bright and shining hill of the fertile peace and noble solitude of my finest days. And, here I stand.
My stale wonder is the constant struggle of this life as I pull the unbearable cart of untenable memory.
This evokes a haunting and broken certainty because I also remember the load lifted from the heart of a defeated man.
It is a memory of walking on cold wet sand, my feet are ...
From the place that I now stand, I can only say,
that I have turned my soul’s muse away
from the devices of modern poetry.
For stories told that bring neither meaning
nor the slow unfold of the rose pronouncing itself to spring,
are definite and calculated, bead-by-bead, on the slow,
dreadful abacus of the angst of our contemporary being.
The continuity of the symbol and the metaphysical
is a flow born of the winter’s packed snow, down a watershed,