Spring For Lois P. Jones I The gentle discord of rainfall, its alternating static dance are Reeds of air in suspension before the corona of sensation. A droplet splashes and trickles along your neck, its joyous grief is welcomed by you with a shudder. The courage of the leaf passes beneath the banks of … Read more
Ace of Wands Fire & Desire And then, at the right time from the heat of our hands a love that was old and new lit up like a torch burning from the depths like fire to the turf. Eight of Wands BOOM!! Someone’s heart whispered: Boom!!! And everything blew up The Earth stopped moving and … Read more
Introductory Note “Icarius’s Daughter” celebrates Penelope, Odysseus’s wife and heroine of Homer’s Odyssey. In the Odyssey, two narratives are woven together by means of changes of scene and frequent flashbacks. In the first strand of the plot, Odysseus has many dire adventures as he makes his way home to Ithaca from the siege of Troy. … Read more
The Sacred Mundane 1 We might say with confidence that the world is a lovely catastrophe—paradise buried in a rubbish heap; devilish, angelic, perishing, precious, priestly, proud; one home to the light that is oil and the water that is darkness, this poor dazzling Earth a jar cracking with the strain of their dueling dual … Read more
Leaf-ladder to the Sky Dusk drums down the harbour, Seagull sirens sound alarms, A quiet motor sings; Shards of mingling words slip away Where huddled houses hug the bay; A fish flops on the scalloped sea, Ripples spreadly ring, Ring, and ring, diminishing, to me: Here are all enchantments reined, Stowed within this compassed, solitary … Read more
Three Poems by Charles Baudelaire IV – L’ALBATROS Souvent, pour s’amuser, les hommes d’equipage Prennent des albatross, vates oiseaux des mers, Qui suivent, indolents compagnons de voyage, Le navire glissent sur les gouffres amers. A peien les ont-ils deposes sur les planches, Que ces rois de l’azur, maladroit et honteux, Laissent piteusement leurs grandes ailes … Read more
Questioning a Tank Into the shocked, shucked shell of the hospital at Kunduz, which for ten days past, in streaming light (the season’s slant of sun), has spilled a steaming trail of twisted bricks, chewed up rails, a grieving mist – the site where the counted, cradled sick burned up, the still un- bordered doctors … Read more
This Is Not a Well Made Poem The well made poem puts on its dicky bow, walks to the top of the hill, and has what it calls an epiphany. The well made poem sees every side of the argument, except those proscribed by the BBC. The well made poem has between twelve and twenty … Read more
Encumeada It was the very last shot on the roll Before the film disappeared into the spool – You, sitting on the terrace, on a three-legged stool. That night, you felt too tired, you said For a glass of vinho verde, and headed to bed At half-past eight. We had spent the days In … Read more
Dawn highlights the East while becoming towards it the tide patterns paper tigers on the wet silent sand oblivious of the night short-lived naked in a pristine bath Magherabeg glistens with gold; straight after a single breath a far-flung rest of the wind the waves slow to an interlude extended by awe, by the vision … Read more