Margaret Randall
“Then I saw what the calling was :it was the road I traveled”- Muriel Rukeyser
My life and work have been profoundly informed by parents who gave me love and adventure, and encouraged creativity; the dramatic desert canyons, rich colors and open skies of the southwestern United States; Socialist ideals; the second wave of feminism; and the generous mentorship of many great friends and colleagues. My children, grandchildren, and great grandchild are always with me, even when far away; and my spouse Barbara is bedrock. New York’s abstract expressionist painters in the 1950s, Mexico and her struggles of the 1960s, the Cuban revolution’s second brave decade in the 1970s, the Vietnamese people’s struggle against US attack and occupation in that same decade, and the Sandinista attempt to change Nicaragua in the early 1980s were places and events that shaped me. The exploration of ancient sites continues to be a source of nourishment, and I have long been involved with oral tradition. I deeply believe in humanistic values, combating our culture of violence and greed, and art as a tool for change. I invite you to enter my website, learn about my books, read my poetry and look at my photographic images.
El Corno #13 featured a large anthology of contemporary poetry from Argentina. Among the 47 Argentine poets represented were: Alejandra Pizarnik, Francisco Madariaga, Alberto Girri, Basilia Papastamatiu, Alejandro Vignati, Miguel Grinberg, Marina Taborski, LeandroKatz, Edgar Bayley, Rodolfo Alonso, Ariel Canzani, Roberto Juarroz, Luisa Futoransky, Mario Waserman, Raquel Silva, and H. A. Murena.
The issue also included work by four Canadian poets: John Newlove, Lionel Kearns, George (...)
Ultimately, there are two kinds of poets: those who have a long vitae and those who have an amazing life. Just glancing at Margaret Randall’s list of works is enough to show us we are before a distinguished and prolific writer. Beginning with Giant of Tears in 1959, she has published over forty (...)
When Justice Felt at Home
Something has changed. Only old friends, those who shared split peas and white rice on sweltering Havana nights still call me compañera: sweet designation meaning comrade or friend lover or familiar in those luminous days when justice felt at home in our desire.
Now, (...)
El rizoma como un campo de huesos rotos
De lúpulos a orquídeas, del jengibre a la flor santificada que llamamos alcatraz, un tallo horizontal o cuerpo de raíz se mueve bajo el suelo buscando su camino, escogiendo dónde despertará y se alzará en otro espejo multiplicador que alzamos a la historia. (...)
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