(September 2003) Page 2



C.S. SNOW

Scotty (C.S. Snow) was born and raised in San Bernardino, California. A self taught Musician, Songwriter, and Poet, and self styled Modern Progressive Artist, Scotty has also for most of his years been an activist in Gay and Lesbian civil rights and Native American causes. He now lives in Lake Elsinore, Ca.

Scotty runs the Yahoo! poetry group Loonatic Fringe Poetry. His book "Observations" was published in 1997. He also recently had several poems published in the Kedco anthology; "Millenium Dawn."

His forthcoming e-book CD "Moon Tan: Poetry And Prose For Night Owls", in collaboration with fellow writer Gillian Stokes, will be released in 2004 by Kedco Studios Inc.

If Truth Be Told
© C.S. Snow, 17 May '94

(For Curt Kobain) Life whispers into my ear Insinuates itself on my psyche. Presumes to understand my plight And what is right. They come to break down my door. To tear down the walls that separate me from them. Jackboot their way into my comfort zone To control... And if truth be told I don't care They penetrate me With their stare Nowhere to hide from the glare And my spirit withers... Can you hold me upright? Will you be there tonight? To run with me away from the light. Life just carries me along. On a sea of my own tears. To a shore that is not of my choosing. They come to understand my pain. To break the bonds that have tied me down for too long To wrench me away from my fears. To heal... And if truth be told I don't care. Can't fight, if the fight's not there. I find myself in the middle of nowhere. And my heart cries out... Can you hold me upright? Will you be there tonight? To help me to get through the night. Life just tears me apart. Puts a gun to my head But it was me that pulled the trigger. They come to dissect my words, To search for meaning in my lines. To try to understand why. To wail... And if truth be told I don't care. They're chasing ghosts that aren't there. Was it me who said dare to live? And my ashes scatter... Can you hold me upright? Will you be there tonight? To run with me into the light. Authors Note: At this point I'm going to have to call this one "free verse," because every time I sit down to try to rewrite it to shoehorn in any semblance of metre, I find that there is not one word I can spare. This says exactly what I want it to say. What you see here is the original first draft written very much in the moment. And as I said in the beginning; I like to leave well enough alone. Here's to you, Kurt! - C.S. 5 Spiritual Haiku © C.S. Snow
I. yearning to touch God seems outside our grasp, we need only reach inside. II. avatar be nigh strike thyself a tent of flesh that we may break bread III. stand outside of time quiet the eternal now dream with us as one IV. hear the still, small voice speak in tongues of ancient grace where our hearts resound V. outward and away spirits find their wings, mid-flight leap! discover yours! Indigo Chile! © C.S. Snow, 11 July '03 12:22 pm
your mirth, your wit, your strife belongs to the whole world let your joy unfurl

RICHARD VALLANCE

About Richard Vallance Born in Guelph, Ontario, Canada, March 11th., 1945, Richard is a member of AuthorsDen, under his family name, Richard Vallance Janke.  A graduate of Wilfred Laurier University (1968) and The University of Western Ontario (MLS), he is fluently bilingual in English and French, and reads Spanish and Italian, ancient Greek and Latin well.  He wrote his first poems at the ages of 17 and 18, in 1962-63.  For years, Richard wrote mainly in the field of Library and Information Science. At Chicago, in October, 1983, he won the $1,000 Data Courier Award for Excellence in Online Published Papers for an article in Online, Vol. 7, no. 5.

Poetry:

While he wrote some 200 poems before the age of 47, since then Richard has composed over 1,500 poems. His first published poem was, “Lasts the First Light”, in Arts and Literature Review (Canada, 1972). In 1998, he published his first full book of poetry, A Quilt of Sonnets: Forty Four Familiar Poems, Ottawa: Providence Road Press, © 1998. 56 pp. ISBN 1-896243-07-x.

In February, 2001, Richard founded his first poetry discussion group, Describe Adonis, for sonneteers. We have since grown to 10 poetry, art and digital photography groups, which you may find at our discussion forum: la nouvelle Pléiade = The New Pleiades ©. Richard's poetry page is Poesie’s laissez-faire Faire Foire, a clearing-house for poets from nations like Canada, the United States, the United Kingdom, Ireland, France and the Netherlands. PLFFF features sonnets and contemporary poems, updated quarterly, a links page to sites of other poets, and grants the monthly Prix laissez-faire Faire Foire Award . PLFFF is a member of Phenomenal Men of The Web: Arts & Humanities .

Richard is the Editor of 2 Canadian poetry E-Zines.  These are advertised monthly at the end of The Vallance Review in Poetry Life and Times.  In the Winter of 2003, a third E-Zine, Kawasaki Zen Haiku, will be a showcase for haikuists.

Since September, 2001, Richard has been the poetry reviewer for Poetry Life and Times, which features the monthly Vallance Review. He is also regular contributor to the same E-Zine.  Richard is also often featured with the U.S. Amerindian E-Zine, Autumn Leaves.

CD-ROM Books:
1. The New Millennium Dawn Anthology (Kedco Press):
10 of Richard's poems were included in Millennium Dawn: an Anthology of Award Winning Fantasy Stories, Poetry, Novels etc.,  Kedco Studios Press, Las Vegas, NV, © 2002  ISBN 1-878431-38-2.
2. Richard’s latest CD-ROM book, Canadian Spirit Voices, © 2003, ISBN: 1-878431-44-7, is in its final pre-publication stages, and will be published by Kedco in the Spring of 2003.  You may view a summary of the book here:  Pre-publication Notice. To contact the author, please e-mail: Richard Vallance (Yahoo) (for inquiries on our poetry discussion groups) – OR –  Richard Vallance (Activator Mail) for poetry-related inquiries or submissions to our Canadian E-Zines).
Les Summer’s Rhyme
© Richard Vallance, July, 2000

for Sara Russell, "Pianissimo” No better season’s than a summer’s rhyme Where might I trace in each A minor thought Hours pleasures, ours, but metronomes to Time, Unless in Time I heard your songs once sought? If love were sought, each loss I've found has left Impressions lasting as each place we’d slept, Where your fingers touched, semi-quavers cleft Swiftly over keys where I briefly wept. Though, now there rains on us Orion’s pearls, On you all night all day, on me in spite Of sweet sonatas I refuse to play Because they so remind me of your light Renditions you played for me. No soul knows How much to fear a graveyard’s tilting snows! August 2003 © Richard Vallance, August 26th., 2003 (12:30 a.m.)
for Sara Russell and C.S. Snow Since, where gold Moons lope, August’s Sun wizens, they, subtler thieves of light, caused pools to dusk, mirages where Loon Lake’s spruced horizons soon mirror sooner night-time’s pungent musk. Good seriate Moons set on harmonies, You’d as soon as lyres play on snows serene before our harvest comes before our seas at Fall tides wail, while yet our fields wear green. Mars, closer than in sixty thousand years, illumines us, though leaves eyes blear to red as fallen leaves or rained on fonts where tears of past baptised are on Orion shed, though Perseids rain thick on our poor Earth and us in Love and War, for all their worth. MILLENNIUMM © Richard Vallance, July 28, 1999
The moon falls roundly on the night, Pouring libations cleansing sight, And if we've seen some Suns at all, We see them from our Moon's hush hall. A thousand thousand years have come, A thousand come, a billion will, A millennium rounds Curvatures of time And greets us where we stand, stock still. Whenever Allah's diamonds flare From off his crown at earth's despair, Seeing as we have warred and lost, God has wept to see the cost. God weeps rains as we destroy Our Earth whole, and a Father's joy. From: Canadian Spirit Voices. Las Vegas, NV.: Kedco Studios, © 2003. Chapter 4: Songs of 5 Loons in the Moonlight. Poem 12. rv4-12.htm Tender September © Richard Vallance, September 1st, 2003
Hei Artemis mysteireis estin* Chorus Iambic-Trochaic in honour of Walter de la Mare’s, "Silver" Has she tendered, too Tender September, To you to me, one Sun azuralled Earth, Or we, whom her tender moons remember, Have we remembered her for her wheat’s worth? Like Artemis, she glides, too effortless, From summer’s harvests, chorussed, she tenders Us stars and veils our nights, and she can press Nuanced wines from vinyards strained to spendours. You’ve heard her moonlit ambered footsteps, pure Light, as she runs stripped to balsamic fir, leaves maple leaves, trembling, and more demure? Pray you by Quaker nights have witnessed her. Stunned by magic’s hills, how can we endure Her, whose tragic steps leave hearts immature? * Latinized Attic Greek script = Mysterious Artemis is. TO BE A POET, YOU MUST WITNESS THE DIVINE! Richard Vallance Golden Showers © Richard Vallance, July 28, 1999
    "Poor painters oft with silly poets join To fill the world with strange but vain conceits." Sir Philip Sidney (1554-1586)
To be a poet, come! Read poetry or wear out our eyes. Come now? Hold your tongue, no, don't spit it out! Have you've wit to see what music silvers hymns Apollo's sung? I will admit impatience by that door of my barn's slipshod inhabitation, where I've scratched graffiti on its hay floor God knows since when! - undust it, Creation! Be I on your farm, too familiar bard, must I stand knee deep at pure manure spread over roses flung into your pigpen's yard, or should I scratch myself on either head? Gods, wince! "To rhyme in reason, what's amiss should Venus on weeds fairly stoop to piss?"
My Carousel Home is:

From here you may reach all our Yahoo Poetry Groups, our E-Zines and lots of poetry by many fine poets.


Jan Sand in New York

JAN SAND, poet and illustrator from New York, is a regular contributor to Poetry Life & Times and the newsgroup alt.arts.poetry.comments. A great deal of his work is about animals, or science fiction.

Recently Jan was published by Kedco Studios Artist Profile Press, on their latest CD ROM e-book, "A Way With Words (Poetry Real and Surreal), which also includes complete books by Dale Houstman, Sara L. Russell and Keith Gabriel Hendricks. Jan's illustrated book on the CD is called "Wild Figments And Odd Conjectures", which is also sold separately, in a limited-edition "single" CD.

To see an illustrated article about Jan's poems, visit the November '98 issue of Poetry Life & Times, and scroll down past the Editor's Letter. He also has his own poetry pages on Charlotte's Web at Artvilla.

THE ATTITUDE
© Jan Sand

That mind should climb On steps of sense, On membranes stirred And stimulants Donated by the energies Colliding with the surfaces Sensitive to subtleties Of light and sound and taste and smell To penetrate brain’s bone shell Is no surprise. With fingertips and ears and eyes We contemplate and fabricate, Inspect, dissect, and integrate The hints and hopes, the tentatives So we can forge preventatives Against the world’s endless assaults On many of our minor faults. This is the basic without frills Wherein we confront godly mills. But sense and innate mental ploys Can be more, can be toys To undermine grim circumstance - Whistle tunes to make fate dance, Grin at Death’s final conquest And pin a rose on his chest. VESTIGES © Jan Sand
So many People, Places, scenes. Things. Points along a plenum More numerous than memory Can recall. Those there placed Abrade by distance. Are finally effaced. They stood like fields of flowers In season’s decline Lost green powers, Browned, dried And blew away in time’s wind. But their hidden roots reside Deep within the soil of my mind To stabilize, cohere What might otherwise, Disappear. OMENS © Jan Sand
In late August There is an odor of menace. Green machineries still function. But leaves here and there Delineate their shapes in brown edge. Flower petals dessicate, drop, disappear To leave behind the pregnant tip Swollen with prophesy for the coming year. Shafts of heat still lance from the Sun But unsteady, unsure of power. The sky enrobes its blue In gray smoking towers. Itinerant short rains Punctuate with a sometime thunderclap Anda gleam of blue light As if a huge and heavy door Blows open momentarily To reveal an angry fate. PHILTERS © Jan Sand
I cannot say what chemistry will turn My mind which weathercocks to subtle salts, To mild intensities of organic acids to burn Fright or hatred into my soul, decantations out of glands That bubble into love or delight that may earn A brilliant summer day from secret thunderstorms. A cup of simple soup or a bite of cold ice cream May deliver messages through passages of blood That taps melody to brain out of a dream. We are creatures commanded by molecules, Small dictators that demand wild and funny lives Or relegate to blind bondage to social tools. Perhaps my next banana or a fat quince Will transform my froggyness into a prince THE GIFT © Jan Sand
The crack an apple makes when bit, The juice it spurts down the chin, The sweet and sour taste of it, The sound that made the world begin. It fractured the serenity, Split the eggshell of the dawn. Opened up calamity As God walked across the lawn. “I told you, damn it, not to touch That fruit you hold within your fist.” “I didn’t think it mattered much,” Adam said, “so why resist? “Because, - because I asked you so.” Adam gave a furtive smile, “That’s silly - I’d known you’d know.” “I know,” said God, “But for a while -“ “For a while I tried forgetting. It’s a lovely way to be. To be impressed when Sun is setting - You know, it sets the mind free.” Adam sat down next to God. Offered Him an apple bite. God looked, and then, with a nod Said, “Not bad. But by tonight- “ “By tonight both you and Eve - You and Eve must be gone. I’m sorry but you both must leave. That’s the way I get things done.” God smiled at Adam, smiled at Eve. “A parting gift.”, he said. He plucked a packet from his sleeve. “Forget me now. Use this instead.” Adam wondered at the gift. He looked at God in question. Saw God’s stare, His eyebrows lift. “Apple seeds - a suggestion.”
Click here to return to rest of the September 2003 issue

Click here to return to main index