Vox Populi

A Public Sphere for Poetry, Politics, and Nature

Jose Padua: And I Walked Through the Market and Stared at the Harbor Lights Through the Soft Rain

And sometimes the best way
to express belief of any kind
is to laugh

July 18, 2020 · 2 Comments

Jose Padua: Reflections on a Lesson that Would Soon Be Made More Clear to Me by Gil Scott-Heron

In 1971 I’m
thirteen years old
watching a big
Vietnam war protest
on television

June 13, 2020 · 6 Comments

Jose Padua: Days of Being Wild

in the late middle
of my mortal days on earth
I am still wild in the heart

May 12, 2020 · 5 Comments

Jose Padua: Self-Portrait as Human and as House

I can’t imagine how boring I’d be now
if I’d always been the best person
I could be instead of operating
at fifty percent of my capacity
or sometimes even less.

February 19, 2020 · Leave a comment

Jose Padua: Prelude to a Highly Personal Confabulation of Zen and the Art of War

how I could one day live in New York City
with half my mind in a flame-like state
of absolute intensity

January 23, 2020 · Leave a comment

Jose Padua: Glenn Gould’s Search for Petula Clark

Thinking of what might have been,
I save every piece of paper and take my time
coming down from the mountain, believing
in the wisdom of taking the long way home.

December 29, 2019 · 3 Comments

Jose Padua: Notes on the Crepuscular Effects of the Music of Thelonious Monk on the Noise of White Supremacy

the little glimmers
of late autumn light
are more than
enough to take you
where you need
to go

November 13, 2019 · Leave a comment

Jose Padua: The Old Man and Other Bright and Beautiful Landscapes

an evening sky hanging
over a slowly moving brown river as
dark birds flashed their wings before
disappearing into the lush mystery
of tall swaying trees was a memory
that came rushing to me from the quiet

October 31, 2019 · Leave a comment

Jose Padua: On the Loving Grace of Well-Oiled Machines

but maybe that’s how
patriarchy works,
so fast and efficient
when it comes to killing,
so in love with the magic
of finding beautiful new worlds
to destroy

September 24, 2019 · Leave a comment

Jose Padua: In Contemplation of the Failure of Empires

ready for everything
in the world that’s dim, dark,
shady and beautiful; ready for
the city that moves us like a river

September 10, 2019 · Leave a comment

Jose Padua: Around the Corner from the Neighborhood Convenience Store and Four Thousand Miles from the Streets of Barcelona

the good ole boy,
sitting up high in
his pickup truck
and smiling smugly

August 15, 2019 · 1 Comment

Jose Padua: Where I’m From And The End Of These Days of Smooth Skin

Walk so that everyone knows where you’ve been
and where you’re going, weathering
both trouble and affection, the gravel roads
turning into dirt.

August 1, 2019 · Leave a comment

Jose Padua: It Was the Summer After the Summer of Love

it’s the first time in my life
that I’ve ever had an image
or maybe it just an idea
(which was still bad enough)
of my parents doing it,
having sex, grabbing each other

July 6, 2019 · Leave a comment

Jose Padua: The Art of Moving or Alternate Interpretations of an Old Blues Song

Back then, whether or not you agreed with the white man, you didn’t question him, because that meant trouble and my family didn’t want trouble with anyone.

June 21, 2019 · Leave a comment

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