Another Year of Living Under the Dragon Stars

I've learned to read Jeff Cannon; First a read through to get the general feel of the poem, then I go back and do a line-by-line slow read to try and get an idea of the poet's feeling/motivation to have written these, invariably, graphic images of pain, mourning and revulsion that, to me, are reminiscent of the work of José Clemente Orozco.




"Day and night dance together in the silence of a desire that sought more than a sip of pleasure"

When he launches against the dark soul of the "Caucasoid empire", he does not pull back the punches, which, by the way, are not sterile or blind rage expressions of innocence lost or nostalgic feelings for a life that is no more. Jeff is as relentless as the sick system he indicts, with the big difference that the poet, unlike that corrupted and corrupting force, offers us a glimpse of hope in a humanity not quite totally lost, not quite totally empty.




I read his poetry and feel exhausted, but not drained, exposed but not shamed, edified but not through false hope, enlightened but not tempted into orthodoxy - and always in awe of someone who knows his self and is willing to expose himself in the splendor of his nakedness.




As I understand his poetic purpose, he does not intend to hang the reader out to dry and closer to suicide (personal or collective), but rather as he honestly exhibits the emperor without clothes, you see a tender and loving heart that's beaconing us, warning us of the pitfalls, toils and snares we' have already come through, not only not to stumble with the same rock time and again, but to remove or at least clearly mark the obstacles for the benefit of the reader.

His poetry is, therefore, one of deep compassion and love.




-Alfonso Maciel, Alfonso knows poetry, feels poetry, knows color, feels color; feels the color of people; the texture of their want for freedom to live the wondrous art of their lives.