Six Poems by Anthony Alves

I should stop waiting
and walk the way I
consider impossible.
For sure fear will
stick heavy weights
In my shoes.
The path will bring hope
and doors to open.
It’s winter,
Soon I’ll start my journey,
by Spring all prairies will
blossom and be
blessed with pollen.
Not a single thing from this world can
stop me from loving this world.
To be decisive is to play weightless
among shadows.
I’m fascinated by being present
and dialoging with nothingness.

I’m meditating, considering things


a soul inside of a tree, there’s no better place to dwell,
pregnant branches, impregnated wombs with oil of old old time,
endless shivering leaves.
A willow weeping my ephemeral companion,
lodged as I’m, I’m breathing through the pores of armored bark,
my roots extended from far beyond this place,
I’m not attached to black crows,
I sing with blue jays
and yellow goldfinches.
Made of transparent particles,
I’m airy glittering spirit.
I’m a voice as well as speechless gaze towards lands scape
and into fertile woods.
Dog barks are familiar to me as whale’s sorrow,
the voice, alert of conscious and compassion
in my threatened forest,
I recognize my footprint at each riverbank,
in the dew of the morning, the aborigine, mist, breath of fog,
vapor of spring, human foliage.

Occasionally sound sounds awkward
waves of drop rain
and car’s-tired flattening down city dirt
rolling while time gives birth and absorbs noise

fall brings a mellow melody
from a room upstairs
Satie is pretty much alive
in the parish hall a bell a bee
my ears a world afresh

Breathing to Myself

I breathe all day all the way,
particles of life, pollen, mist salty water.
How do I breathe? Automatically? if I don’t command
a breathing machine or I didn’t dawn load a platform,
who does it for me Mother? Inhale, open up, exhale.

Days are waves breathing passages of a wise book,
come to yourself through these pages, play with
your senses, be compassionate to yourself and others,
enjoy your stream of breathing as if it was cotton candy,
with love and compassion, wandering like a child,
there is no shame on wanting to know about light
and love and if the two are coming from the same source.

Breathe today a map of the future,
spring in the present,
desires burst in transparent particles.

Breathe, to be soul-icitous is a profound state,
always tackle transparency, guide yourself with patience,
knowledge is gratifying slippery road
breathe serviceable concern, generosity, virtue
profound benevolence.

Love a pilgrim in the open wild
love needs no camouflage
to walk on daylight or night.
Love’s a beneficial exercise that
protect us all and love’s a soul
that expands life spam.

Anthony Alves

Anthony Alves is a multidisciplinary artist. Since 1988 resides in New York City. In his formation as a Visual artist, Poet, Essayist, Play Writer, Director and Photographer. He graduated from F.I.T. and Parsons’ art School. He has been participating in various workshops Throughout New York City, B.C.A. The Cherry Lane Theater, from 2001 to these days he attends workshops at the Poetry Project. His poetry was display in the 1996 Bronx Council on the Art Anthology, named Not Black and White. In 2000 he published 3 Chap books. In 2012 He recorded a CD of Poetry with Ann Waldman and Ambrose Bye. His most recent publication “You Should Never be Afraid of Amish People Again” was published by Diaz Grey Editions at McNally Jackson Book Store. And The Bronx Memoir Project volume2. His conducting a Bilingual Creative Writing Workshop Named “Sin Final” at The Latin-American workshop in New York city.