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About this poet

Richard Blanco is the Education Ambassador of the Academy of American Poets. In his role, he helps champion the organization's free resources for teachersstudent projects, and other education initiatives. 

Born on February 15, 1968, in Madrid, Spain, Blanco grew up in Miami, where he received a bachelor of science degree in civil engineering as well as an MFA in creative writing from Florida International University.

He is the author of the poetry collections How to Love a Country, forthcoming from Beacon Press in 2019; Boundaries (Two Ponds Press, 2017), featuring photography by Jacob Bond Hessler; Matters of the Sea/Cosas del Mar (University of Pittsburgh Press, 2016); Looking for the Gulf Motel (University of Pittsburgh Press, 2012); Directions to the Beach of the Dead (University of Arizona Press, 2005), winner of the 2006 PEN/American Center Beyond Margins Award; and City of a Hundred Fires (University of Pittsburgh Press, 1998), winner of the 1997 Agnes Lynch Starrett National Poetry Prize. He is also the author of a memoir, The Prince of los Cocuyos (Ecco Press, 2014), a Lambda Literary Award–winning account of his childhood and adolescence coming to terms with his sexual, national, and cultural identities, and For All of Us, One Today: An Inaugural Poet’s Journey (Beacon Press, 2013). His inaugural poem, One Today, was also published as a children's book illustrated by Dav Pilkey (Little, Brown, 2015).

Sandra Cisneros describes Blanco's poems as "sad, tender, and filled with longing. Like an old photograph, a saint's statue worn away by the devout, a bolero on the radio on a night full of rain. Me emocionan. There is no other way to say it. They emotion me."

He is the recipient of two Florida Artist Fellowships, a Residency Fellowship from the Virginia Center for the Creative Arts, and the John Ciardi Fellowship from the Bread Loaf Writers Conference. Blanco has taught at various schools, including American University, Georgetown University, and Wesleyan University, and has been an artist in residence at Colby College’s Lunder Institute for American Art. He is currently a distinguished visiting professor at Florida International University.   

In 2013, Richard Blanco was selected to read at Barack Obama's second Presidential Inauguration. He lives in Bethel, Maine.


As Educator Ambassador, Richard Blanco is available for speaking engagements and to meet with teachers. For more information, contact Alison Granucci at Blue Flower Arts.


Selected Bibliography

Poetry
Boundaries (Two Ponds Press, 2017)
Matters of the Sea/Cosas del Mar (University of Pittsburgh Press, 2016)
Looking for the Gulf Motel (University of Pittsburgh Press, 2012)
Directions to the Beach of the Dead (University of Arizona Press, 2005)
City of a Hundred Fires (University of Pittsburgh Press, 1998)

Prose
For All of Us, One Today: An Inaugural Poet’s Journey (Beacon Press, 2013)
The Prince of los Cocuyos (Ecco Press, 2014)

El Florida Room

Not a study or a den, but El Florida 
as my mother called it, a pretty name
for the room with the prettiest view 
of the lipstick-red hibiscus puckered up
against the windows, the tepid breeze 
laden with the brown-sugar scent 
of loquats drifting in from the yard.

Not a sunroom, but where the sun 
both rose and set, all day the shadows 
of banana trees fan-dancing across
the floor, and if it rained, it rained
the loudest, like marbles plunking 
across the roof under constant threat 
of coconuts ready to fall from the sky.

Not a sitting room, but El Florida where 
I sat alone for hours with butterflies
frozen on the polyester curtains
and faces of Lladró figurines: sad angels,
clowns, and princesses with eyes glazed 
blue and gray, gazing from behind
the glass doors of the wall cabinet.

Not a TV room, but where I watched
Creature Feature as a boy, clinging 
to my brother, safe from vampires
in the same sofa where I fell in love 
with Clint Eastwood and my Abuelo 
watching westerns, or pitying women
crying in telenovelas with my Abuela.

Not a family room, but the room where
my father twirled his hair while listening
to 8-tracks of Elvis, and read Nietzsche 
and Kant a few months before he died, 
where my mother learned to dance alone
as she swept, and I learned Salsa pressed 
against my Tía Julia's enormous breasts.

At the edge of the city, in the company 
of crickets, beside the empty clothesline, 
telephone wires and the moon, tonight
my life is an old friend sitting with me  
not in the living room, but in the light
of El Florida, as quiet and necessary 
as any star shining above it.

From Looking for The Gulf Hotel by Richard Blanco. Copyright © 2012 by Richard Blanco. Reprinted by permission of the University of Pittsburgh Press and Stuart Bernstein Representation for Artists. All rights reserved.

From Looking for The Gulf Hotel by Richard Blanco. Copyright © 2012 by Richard Blanco. Reprinted by permission of the University of Pittsburgh Press and Stuart Bernstein Representation for Artists. All rights reserved.

Richard Blanco

Richard Blanco

Richard Blanco is the Education Ambassador of the Academy of American Poets. In his role, he helps champion the organization's free resources for teachers, student projects, and other education initiatives. He is the author of several poetry collections, including Matters of the Sea/Cosas del Mar (University of Pittsburgh Press, 2016) and two memoirs, including The Prince of Los Cocuyos: A Miami Childhood (Ecco Press, 2014). In 2013, Blanco was selected to read at Barack Obama's second Presidential Inauguration. He lives in Bethel, Maine.

by this poet

poem

The last ghostly patch of snow slips away—

with it—winter’s peaceful abandon melts 
into a memory, and you remember the mire 
of muck just outside your kitchen window 
is the garden you’ve struggled and promised 
to keep. Jeans dyed black by years of dirt, 
you step into the ache of

poem
Marco Island, Florida

There should be nothing here I don't remember . . .

The Gulf Motel with mermaid lampposts 
and ship's wheel in the lobby should still be 
rising out of the sand like a
poem

A Poem for Barack Obama's Presidential Inauguration
January 21, 2013

 

One sun rose on us today, kindled over our shores,
peeking over the Smokies, greeting the faces
of the Great Lakes, spreading a simple truth
across the Great Plains, then