David Rojas was born in Calarca, Colombia and was raised in Florida, USA. He enjoys writing poetry and creative nonfiction. In previous lives, he has been a cook, construction worker, mechanical engineer, and English teacher. Currently, he can be found in Circasia, Colombia learning how to become a cacao farmer.
Artwork by S. Capshaw-Mack
You Are Like The Earth
You are like the Earth
in the way that I am
in awe of you.
To behold you is to feel
the universe bloom boundless
from within the chambered confines
Had I not found myself lost
in your depths,
I could not have imagined you.
Now, somehow I have learned
the climates and geographies
of your surfaces by heart,
yet every day I hope to rediscover
And not the immensity of the Andes
peaking outside my window,
nor the echoes of the hallowed stones
in the churches and temples where deities
and saints once happened upon,
and not the romance of the dying
light from those far-off beaches,
full of swooning palms
where we worship
nothing can free and wing my soul
like the wilderness of your heart.
And in that way,
you are like the earth
but more infinite.
Drops of Dew (Moonshine)
You cannot close your eyes
to sleep, to dream, to imagine!
You are light and have never lived
a single night. But the moon ferments
and distills the nocturnal vibe
and its inherent madness, its witchcraft,
its alchemy, and dissipates those spirits
as furtive kisses in the perfumed
underskirts of flowers,
as drunken words condensed
on the glass lips of half-truths,
as a fog that settles over the dawn
of distant lovers who share
liquid dreams like sheets
as drops of fist fights
in the seedy nooks between grape
and vine, as puddles of incandescent
passion splashed, as blossoms of rainbows
waiting for the light, as that which perspires
unseen but reeks of regret for things
not done, as crimes of passion
wept on the knife blades
for the morning sun to light upon
and drink-in the essence of the night,
because sometimes we need a little dark
liquor to appreciate our light.
Sunshine Skyway Bridge
You swim all nights in your sleep
and cannot catch a single dream.
You are awaken by the desire to quiet
the restlessness that pervades in the solitude
of your nights and moves through you
like the sleepless tides. Suddenly, you find yourself
atop looking down into a liquid sky.
Tonight, the bay is a mirror and you are the sea.
Too high to see your graces, you leap and shatter
the shimmering sky below. Water invades the nooks
and crannies reserved for breath, but you are relieved
because you no longer feel hollow. You allow yourself to fill
until you become the salt of the earth dissolved into sea.
At last, you feel peace as you become part of something bigger
than yourself. Tearful reflections of stars converge over the last,
concentric moments of your wake.
From the Editor:
We hope that readers receive In Parentheses as a medium through which the evolution of human thought can be appreciated, nurtured and precipitated. It will present a dynamo of artistic expression, journalism, informal analysis of our daily world, entertainment of ideas considered lofty and criticism of today’s popular culture. The featured content does not follow any specific ideology except for that of intellectual expansion of the masses.
Founded in late 2011, In Parentheses prides itself upon analysis of the current condition of intelligence in the minds of these young people, and building a hypothesis for one looming question: what comes after Post-Modernism?
The idea for this magazine stems from a simple conversation regarding the aforementioned question, which drew out the need to identify our generation’s place in literary history.
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