Featured Poets December 2006

Featured poets this month include Elisha Porat, Deborah P Kolodji  (and co-author Candace McBride), Barbara Crooker, Michael Levy and  Michaela Sefler.
Many thanks to all contributors.

ELISHA PORAT Elisha Porat, the 1996 winner of Israel's Prime Minister's Prize for Literature, an Hebrew poet and writer, has published 21 volumes of fiction and poetry, in Hebrew, since 1973. Elisha Porat was born in Kibbutz Ein Hahoresh in 1938. His works have appeared in translation in Israel, the United States, Canada and England. The English translation of his short stories collection "The Messiah of LaGuardia", Mosaic Press, was released in 1997. The English translation of his second stories collection "PAYBACK", was published 2002 at Wind River Press. His new novel "EPISODE", a biographical novel, just released by "Y&H" Publishers, Israel, 2006.   His works, poetry and fiction, were translated from the Hebrew into the English, and were published, as print and as online, in a selected literary stages. Elisha Porat's works were published at Midstream, Tikkun, Ariel, War Literature and Arts, Rattle, Porcupine, Oyster Boy Review, Another Chicago Magazine, Boston Review, Snake Nation Review, The Paumanok Review, The Pedestal Magazine, Poetry Magazine, Jewish Quarterly  and others. Previously published by PLandTimes   Elisha Porat, Ein Hahoresh 38980 Israel Tel 04 612 7448 Enter the originals (Hebrew versions)

A Short Biography     "You're a dead horse", the publisher   told me, rejecting my poems,   "and it would cost too much to resuscitate you."   "He's as dead as a door nail",   the man from the Mobile ICU told my wife   when she begged for another electric shock.   "No way can he be resuscitated".   But I, 'doubly dead', am still   alive and pounding along   in the saddle of my horses' memories.                 (Translated by Asher Harris June 2006) Old Friends This prickly rush, with whose spines I stitched my tattered youth; this weeping willow, played by the wind on my secret ramblings; this purple loosestrife, whose pink flowers I placed on a table for my love; they all call to me along the path: Come, join us, come, fade with us into the moist morning mist. "Don't wait for me," I call out to them from my groaning memory, "I am on my way, I'll be there soon." And on my return from the stream bank I know: They will wait, I will come, my aging heart is already there, with them, anticipating me always by a few steps. Translated from the Hebrew by Cindy Eisner Offering My poems, the products of my emotions, the products of my thoughts, the products of my inspiration, the products of my brain and of my heart – they are my offering, my individual contribution, my unique and peculiar contribution, my generous contribution – to this old and ancient profession, this ancient profession of poetry, this ancient profession of poesy: the ancient profession of trading in words. Translated from the Hebrew by Cindy Eisner In Netanya, on the cliff In Netanya, on the cliff, on one of those sweet Friday afternoons, I sit on the curb that marks the boundary between garden, promenade and street. On my back a pleasant sun plows furrows of shivers, just like the froth of waves down below, there, in a winter sea not yet warmed. The city around me is already slowly removing the bandages of the painful terror attacks that pounded her mercilessly. And suddenly I am hit with a revelation, one I've had before: with my own eyes I see the terrible banality of the dream of Zionism come true. The first German tourists are hurrying on the paths, and at the entrance to the gallery a noisy carefree crowd gathers: the city is returning to itself; on this warm Friday afternoon; at the end of spring two-thousand and four. I am rejected as before: your turn has not yet come. And someone will give his heart for you. In the terrible banality of this dream of Zionism come true, the salt of my life, the only soul of the capillaries closing slowly around my aging heart. Translated from the Hebrew by Cindy Eisner CAROBS Elisha Porat Do you remember, in Juara, at the end of my platoon leaders course, in that rainy December? I took the wet military blanket on my shoulders, and you were covered with the sleeveless cape that I drew for you from my belt? Do you remember the gleaming chalky rocks? The whistle of the wind passing through the trees? And how we roamed all night, looking for a piece of dry ground? Do you remember how we were happy anyway, on awakening, with first light, when embracing we stumbled on a broken stair, in front of your door, and we stood suddenly flooded with the thick flowing aroma of the flowering carobs? Translated from the Hebrew by Cindy Eisner © Elisha Porat © All Rights Reserved

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MICHAELA SEFLER Michaela Sefler, is an inspirational poet, living in Montreal, Canada. She has two self-published compilations of poetry: Still True and A Fortress in My Heart and two published compilations, The Sun Is Hot, Through the Ages. She enjoys learning ancient mysticism and spirituality through reading and meditation, as well as exercise and staying fit. She has a BSC in psychology. She has been featured in various journals and anthologies such as Prism Quarterly, Poetry Vibes. Best Poets. Prominent Voices in Poetry. And has been featured on various websites and e-zines and online journals such as: http://www.szirine.com/countrytemplate.php?id=106 http://ponderingmoments.com http://conscious-living.blogspot.com http://planetstarz.com/mlt/ : Mystic living today. http://www.new-age-spirituality.com/spirit/spoetry.html : New Age Spirituality. http://michael-millett.com

The Doors Open © Michaela Sefler Who will look at my desperation? who will tend to my dissapointements? No one here the doors were open for me to walk. You won't answer you won't reply my pleas are for nothing. How will you act if I told you my story? Time and time I waited , I walked so all is well for you. So the doors are open for me to leave to choose to find. I will transcend I will improve wisdom and understanding I will inherit. The best of worlds I will find; I will cherish I will make mine. Blessings from the heavens I will summon; blessings from above you will see in me. From the heavens bestowed; because I listened I heard, a told without refraining. Nights and nights I waited until only Your name. A CATALYST Receiving instruction Bringing light from darkness justice where there was none. A catalyst starting a movement bringing change and fertility. MIGHTY DEEDS Who will teach after a fall? who will honor after a capture? The angel of true bearings Suriel Dissapointements who will cure?. Dissapointements who will lift? Suriel the angel of presence; bearings; consciousness in totality. Engraved on the hayoth the lord of powers the Lord of miracles master of purity. Holy holy holy adir adirim king of kings. Before who every knee bend beside him there are none. Four engraved teachers of soul show me the way to tranquility. A HUMBLE EXISTENCE A humble existence the forces battle existing to prevail amid the tides. The forces exude in all directions I seek shelter from the storm. Foes and adversaries friends and companions trying to prove their distinction tonight. A humble existence even truthful and proud finding real victory. I will win another night for I was diligent enduring the hardship that your name summoned. I listened closely I humbly awaited; for the multitudinous, of Your Name. A true gift that is not vain I attempt to find in this confusion.

Many thanks Again  to all contributors.

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