Deborah Martel Rogers' Blog

Hoving Hero by Deborah Rogers Humor and love together, Houses and doves for ever, Long live, Hove! Live love, Love life, Be free, For you, and for me...  Let's hove and roll, My hero ...! This poem, "Hoving Hero," was accepted for publication in "Immortal Verses."  7.18.2006 (Source: The International Library of Poetry: poetry.com) "After carefully reading and discussing your poem, our Selection Committee has certified your poem as a semi-finalist in our International Open Poetry Contest." 

1.16.2007 Sleeping Soul Wake me up, sleeping soul unnaming self, though brave and warm ... Despite your call,      roaring and right,           your cast is gone:           Believe in thee! Fall upwards, smiling face... Select my voice, my soft great truth:                                     sensational silence soothes my sea                   smooth sublime (Electronically sent to Poetry.com)

Dedicated to my grandmother, Josefa López Artiles, AKA "Abuelita Fefa"       The canary yellow kitchen walls were sparkling clean. The whole room smelled of chocolate chip cookies. My grandmother had already arrived like she did every Friday after school. She changed her neatly ironed black hand-made dress into her read and orange polka-dotted skirt, white short-sleeved blouse, and forest green apron. Her white and wavy hair was combed all the way to the back, right behind her ears. She walked into the kitchen, began to sing, and opened up the kitchen big wooden windows.       I had already taken off my gray and navy blue school uniform, and my black shoes. Then I'd loosen up my tight ponytail until my long straight brown hair fell right below my shoulders, covering my ears. As soon as I put on my short red dress, I strolled to the kitchen. Grandma looked at me and pointed to the aprons. I chose the orange one. It reminded me of her pumpkin pie.   ...

23 de Marzo del 2007 (Centros de Expresión) De una forma pacífica y respetuosa declino no luchar por tu amor y te declaro mi primera guerra vencida: Increíble, irresistible, interminable vida Desde la cima de mi humilde ser Estoy inclinada a no alcanzar demasiado alto, aunque tu sentido del éxito y tus ganas se llevan muy bien con mi destino.

5/23/2007 (Centres of Expression) In a peaceful, respectful way I decline not to fight your love And declare you my first won war: Unbelievable, irresistible, endless life From the top of my humble self I'm inclined not to reach too high, though your sense of success and drive gets along with my destiny.

12 de Octubre del 2010 Era un día lluvioso de invierno en la zona comercial de la ciudad de Bakersfield. Una joven y su novio estaban a punto de coger el tren de alta velocidad a quién sabe dónde, pues todavía no se habían decidido. El seguía jugando con su ipod, mientras ella se seguía preguntado si aceptar o no su invitación.      -"Venga,  Francisco. ¿Quieres decir que no les vas a dar a tus padres una segunda oportunidad?" dijo Arminda .      -"Ya estoy harto de esta situación. No paran de decirme lo que tengo que hacer, y ni siquiera quieren escuchar mi punto de vista."      Mientras tanto, la lluvia seguía cayendo de fondo, como una intrusa que se atrevía a interrumpir su conversación. O, al menos, ésa era la impresión que Francisco tenía mientras intentaba organizar sus confusos pensamientos, por lo menos el tiempo suficiente para que Arminda no se diera cuenta de que en realidad prefería estar solo en aquel momento. ...

10.12.2010 I was a rainy winter day in Downtown Bakersfield. A young woman and her boyfriend were about to take their high speed train to somewhere, but they did not seem to decide yet. He kept playing with his ipod, while she was wondering whether to accept his invitation or not.      -"Come on, Francisco. Are you telling me that you will not give your parents a second chance?" Arminda said.      -"I'm fed up with this situation. They only tell me what to do, and don't even listen to my point of view."      Meanwhile, the rain was pouring in the background, like an unwelcome intruder that dared to interrupt their conversation. Or, at least, that's the impression that Francisco had while trying to organize his confusing thoughts, just enough for Arminda not to feel that he really wanted to be by himself instead.      -"I think that you should go home, Francisco. We have the rest of our lives to be together. I don't fe...