| May 2005 | Café Society's Poetry News Update |
| May 2005 | Café Society's Poetry News Update |
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| The poet Nicholas Cobic was born in Belgrade (Serbia) in 1975. In 1991 he moved to the UK, and he now lives in London where he writes poetry and essays. He works for the Serbian radio station RTS Belgrade 1 as the cultural correspondent, as well as being a regular writer for a number of magazines and periodicals. In 2002 Cobic has established one of the most important new poetry magazines in the UK – The Wolf. So far Nicholas Cobic has won numerous poetry prizes in the UK, Germany, France and his native Serbia, including the Best Young Poet. The works of Nicholas Cobic have been published in many magazines and anthologies, and aired on several UK radio programmes. His latest collection “Between Hammer and Anvil” is due to be published bilingually. Nicholas Cobic writes mainly in the Serbian language, but translates his work into English.
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Poetry L & T:
How and why did you first start writing poetry, Nicholas?
Nicholas: There was no defining moment. For me writing poetry just happened. I don’t think there was one specific poem that I wrote after which I said to myself “From now I will be writing poetry”. I certainly did write poems when I was in Serbia, but I was very young then and those poems do not carry the same value as what I write now. My poems have changed over the years both stylistically and thematically. When I started out, I paid much attention on rhyme and generalised themes, but over the years my writing has become more personal. I don’t think that poets have a choice. Poetry is something that just happens to a person. Like a car crash. Or love – which is sometimes worse.
Poetry L & T: Who are your favourite poets?
Nicholas: The honest ones. The ones who are not afraid to offer a new angle, no matter how unusual it may appear to be. I tend to read poetry very much and to cover the widest possible spectrum of writers, especially international ones. Many poets from various backgrounds fascinate me. In Serbian poetry my teachers are Ivan V. Lalic, Vasko Popa, Aleksandar Ristovic, Branko Miljkovic and Matija Beckovic. Internationally, I like Wyslawa Szimborska, Czeslaw Milos, Gunter Grass, Octavio Paz, TS Eliot, August Kleinzahler… The list is endless. I also very much appreciate South American Poetry.
Poetry L & T:
I'd like to know more about how your magazine, The Wolf, got started.
Nicholas: I always felt that there is a huge gap between the “established” or mainstream magazines in the UK, (such as Poetry Review, Ambit, Rialto, Poetry London etc) and small press or “alternative” magazines. The mainstream magazines were too expensive, conceited and inaccessible to wider audiences. The other extreme was just too distant and insignificant. There was nothing to bridge the gap and give a chance to all this undiscovered talent. When I started giving poetry readings, I realised that there is so much wasted talent out there, mainly within the younger generation of poets, who are just not given a chance. I met my co-editor James Byrne at the Poetry Café in London’s Covent Garden, and we both respected each others work from the start and felt the same way about poetry. At the time, James was organising a brilliant monthly event called “New Blood” (with Niall O’Sullivan), which gave a chance to newer poets to perform in public. But the problem with performance poetry is that it is too limited to the poet or the “acting up”, and it hardly ever stands up on paper. I remember that James once asked me a question “What poetry magazines I really liked”, to which I replied “None”. He said “Neither do I”. So we agreed to produce our own. So far we had 10 issues which are selling well all across the UK and Europe, but also in the US and Australia. Our magazine always has a sharp edge, and we try to offer a completely new angle of looking at poetry.
Poetry L & T: What are your most important criteria for poetry submissions?
Nicholas: Originality. Any theme, any style of writing is appreciated, but originality is definitely what makes a poem stand out. Ever themes that have been covered by millions of poets over the centuries, can be looked at from a different, new angle. We do not censor any kind of opinion, no matter how controversial it is. As long as the poet is determined to express their feeling or view in a fresh way, that poem is welcome in The Wolf. Unfortunately, there is still an ocean of poets out there who endlessly write about the “green grass”, “orange sunset” and “blue sea”, and in my opinion this kind of poetry does not have a future.
Poetry L & T:
I enjoyed your poem "Illness", it has a lot of dry humour, and some radical visions such as "Galaxies are just pills in a hand", and the idea of being able to adjust our reflections at will, using a kind of virtual mirror. How do ideas like this come to you?
Nicholas: To be honest – I don’t know. Ideas like that just come along, usually when I least expect them. I don’t have a usual part of day when I write. Ideas come to me as a result of my feelings, views, surroundings, experiences. I like writing poetry that intrigues people and makes them re-read my poem. I wouldn’t like to write poetry that is too clear on the first reading, but I prefer poems that makes readers think, search for their own meaning. Although my poetry is very personal, my intention is not to make my readers experience what I experience, but to search for their own feeling through what I write. When a poem is finished, it has its own life and it makes the poet superfluous.
Poetry L & T:
Your poem "The Soil" intrigues me, with its dreamlike imagery and the immortal line:
"The dead are leaving black and white photographs"
... which town or area inspired it?
Nicholas: I am mostly inspired by the city where I was born - Belgrade, and especially by Banjica, the neighbourhood where I grew up. That particular poem is very personal and it reflects two different ways of looking at the same urban area. One view is from a childhood, where everything appeared powerful, and the other is on a re-visit where the view is distorted by the time and the inner emotions of the viewer. Much of my urban poetry is inspired by Belgrade and Serbia, but also London. London is more similar to Belgrade than it appears.
Poetry L & T:
I love the descriptions of the woman's smile in your poem "The Scorn of Reason". It's romantic, but like the other love poem on your feature page, "Like a Dandelion", it has an edge of poignancy, which I find runs through a lot of your work that I've read so far. Do you find sometimes that the best ideas for poems come from sad or bittersweet life experiences?
Nicholas: Not at all. I wrote my best love poetry when I was happiest. Sadness is not an emotion which inspires me at all. I’m a person with a very positive outlook on life and it’s positivism that I find stimulating. I do agree that poetry comes from life experiences, but poetry also comes from imagination. You don’t necessarily have to live through something in order to write about it. Poets exist to compose reality, not just to describe it. I always try to put a twist into my poems, so the feeling of poignancy comes naturally to me. Love itself is not simple and straightforward, so why should love poetry be.
Poetry L & T:
I'd like to know more about your forthcoming poetry collection, “Between Hammer and Anvil”...
Nicholas: The collection should be out this autumn. It contains 33 of my poems written during the last 3 years. Thematically, it is very versatile and eclectic, but that reflects my life in the last 3 years very well. The title itself reflects my sentiment. Being between a hammer and an anvil is painful and dangerous, but I often find myself in awkward and difficult positions, so the title came logically.
It was ready for publishing around Christmas. As I write all my poems in Serbian and then translate them into English, I wanted to have a bi-lingual collection. However, there were issues about this with the publisher, as their opinion was that bi-lingual collections are not commercial enough. So naturally this created delays, much stress and arguments. I have now changed the publisher, and hopefully all will run more smoothly.
Poetry L & T:
It must have been exciting to have your work featured on the radio here in the UK...
Nicholas: It has indeed. I actually have much experience with radio programmes, as I work as a Cultural Correspondent for a Serbian Radio station – Belgrade 1. I have done readings for BBC and Resonance FM, and for some smaller stations, but it’s always a thrill to do them. Radio is an excellent way to project your poetry. The reader cannot be seen and therefore all physical acting-up is eliminated. It’s all down to your voice, projection and the strength of the poem itself. Brilliant!
Poetry L & T:
Do you feel that poets have a social or political role to play in the world these days?
Nicholas: Most certainly. For example, during the cold war across Eastern Europe, poets were the most important voice of the people, and they played a central role in social events and opinion forming. I don’t think that in the “West” poets realise that they should influence opinions. Many are too lethargic. But I don’t believe in “purpose poetry”, the kind that is written for a specific event, because this kind of poetry is almost forced. A good example was when thousands of poets kept endlessly writing about the September 11th tragic event. No one wrote much about American politics before that, and now it’s so fashionable. I don’t have much respect for this, as it looks more like preaching than writing originally. I use politics in my poetry, but I try to conceal it within a poem, so it does not overshadow the point of the poem.
Poetry L & T:
How has the internet helped you, as a poet, essayist and editor?
Nicholas: Internet is a wonderful new invention and for me it represents primarily a source of information. It’s very much up to how you use it. It speeds things up, eliminates unnecessary postal delays and makes poetry accessible. We always encourage Email submissions for The Wolf as it makes correspondence easier.
Poetry L & T:
Finally, Nicholas, what are your main ambitions for the future?
Nicholas: My collection is due out very soon, but I have already started working on another one. I don’t want to limit my writing to poetry only (although that is the form of writing I most enjoy), and I am also dabbling with short stories, essays and reviews. We are working on another edition of The Wolf which is due out in June, and I would like to see the magazine grow. I am planning to give more public readings this year and to organise literary events. I also translate poems very much, so I’m thinking of working on an anthology of Serbian poets in English. There are even plans to start a publishing company. Who know, or dares to imagine…
Poetry L & T: Thank you for the interview, Nicholas.
Nicholas: It’s a pleasure.
 | NEW - in our merchandise store: the Poetry Life & Times Poetry Journal... click image to find out more.
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| Dear Poets, Welcome to the May 2005 issue of Poetry Life & Times (For those of you reading this on a mirror site and not poetrylifeandtimes.com, click here).
This month's interview features award-winning British/Serbian poet, Nicholas Cobic, poetry editor of The Wolf magazine.
Featured Poets include: Nordette Adams, Carla Dodd, Debashish Haar and Maria Lupinacci.
Resident Poets feature Robin Ouzman Hislop, Richard Vallance, Jan Sand and Sara L. Russell. See below Featured Poets for the link to this page.
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In the Vallance Review for May 2005, Richard's Review No. 45 features The Historical Evolution of the Sonnet: 3B. Stylistics: Sonnet Forms (Evolution) PART 2.
Fans of The Perils of Norris cartoon: You can buy Norris merchandise for home and office, including apparel and stationery... Click here to visit the store at CafePress.com. More goodies will be added as soon!
My own poetry can be found on AuthorsDen, these days. The links in the left-hand column of my pages include books and articles as well as poetry. Some of the articles give advice on making chapbooks, or finding publishers - and there is even an item on ghosts.
My latest e-book: Worlds Inside The Head, is now available, featuring animated poetry pages, short stories, video & audio recitals, plus pages in PDF format. Click here to scroll down to the animated ad at the bottom of the page, and click the link to find out more.
NEW - Poetry Life & Times Mobile Phone Pages + Free Ringtones & Wallpapers! We now have new mini-sized Poetry Life & Times supplement pages for mobile phones, which include information on the main site, occasional interviews, short poems + free ringtones and wallpapers. If you have a WAP-enabled mobile phone with a colour screen, point your mobile's browser at these pages (on your mobile you can usually omit http//:):
www.poetrylifeandtimes.com/pltmobile/index.htm
Ringtones are both classical and new original music (my own). Wallpapers are mostly from The Perils of Norris cartoon.
Any comments on this issue or back issues can be emailed to me on the link at the bottom of the page. Announcements are always welcome (brief if possible), you can also promote poetry books here.
Poetry submissions should be in plain text in the body of an email, with a small jpeg author picture attached, also a bio, with the URLs of any ezines mentioned, so that they can be shown as links. This increases the chance of inclusion, especially for late submissions. Pictures are best at a maximum of 520 pixels across, otherwise they take ages to arrive by email, especially in bitmap or TIFF format. I recommend that poets click the submissions link on our main page, for full guidelines, and please, always use a spellchecker.
Poets can submit previously-published work here. If another editor likes it, there's a chance we'll like it too.
Best Regards,
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Richard Vallance reviews sonnets, both classic and modern.
Featured Poets this month include Nordette Adams, Carla Dodd, Debashish Haar and Maria Lupinacci. Many thanks to all contributors. See below Featured Poets for our Resident Poets' page link.
Click title below for this month's Vallance Review feature
NORDETTE ADAMS
Nordette Adams is an award-winning fiction writer. She is also a journalist and poet
who lives in Scotch Plains, New Jersey, was born in Memphis, TN, but considers herself a daughter of New Orleans, LA, the city in which she was raised. You will find more of her work on her first site Writingjunkie.net or at AuthorsDen.com. A number of writers and organizations have chosen to link her multimedia site NexusNord.com, with which she has lots of fun.
CARLA DODD
Poetry made a return about five years ago as another creative outlet. Carla has been in local and online writing groups, winning a Valentine's Day contest on CompuServe and earning publication of "Sweat," a summer poem, to be published in a collection by the International Library of Poetry this summer. She continues to post poems on "The Writer's Shed" women's online poetry group on CompuServe.
Carla began posting erotic poetry to Érotique! A Magazine of Erotic Diversions at the beginning of 2001, this brilliant creative ezine unfortunately closed after the tragedy of 911. This month sees her welcome return to Poetry Life & Times.
DEBASHISH HAAR I have both an objective and a subjective existence in this world—which are correlated up to certain extent!
I have published a good hundred and fifty poems in my first one-and-quarter year in net; do a google search, have a look (40—50 are easily visible). I have written numerous poems in my diary, most of them are still safe on those pages where I maintain my own rule. Idea of writing poetry, more officially, was given by a very close friend of mine, a few years back, after I published a couple of articles in campus polities while doing my masters.
People say I can write, though I am not convinced, and I don’t approach them for this acknowledgement. Published in Poetry Life and Times (thrice), once interviewed (March, 2003) when I declined to take the offer ‘coz it was the first month in my internet writing venture, but the editor of the magazine (Sara Russell) had faith in me, published in Autumn Leaves (have an elaborate list of about 30 poems to be published in next six issues), published in Wordswordswords and some anthologies here and there.
Besides these I can attend any queries related to art…connection between Postmodernism and Impressionism, Nihilism and Quantum Mechanics et al.
I have experience of editing for Elsevier Science in a massive project featuring some of the big shots of the world of Geochemistry. Now something interesting for you, I am also the editor of Mystic East Publisher, Currently working on a unique anthology project: Percussion. Review coming soon from Poetry Life & Times Editor, Sara L. Russell.
MARIA LUPINACCI
Maria Lupinacci is a Certified Massage Therapist, Reflexologist, Reiki Master and Advanced Intergrated Energy Therapist,
specializing in Bodywork, Energy Balancing and Somatic Therapy. She devotes a large extent of her time to poetry
(reading and writing), and finds a quantity of her inspiration comes from life, other writers and her practice in the Holistic Therapies.
Author of the chapbook, “After Dinner Mints” (Foothills Publishing, 2005),
Maria is a 2003 Pushcart Prize Nominee whose work has been featured in Dark Moon Rising.com,
Erosha-a literary journal of the erotic, Lily-A Monthly Online Literary Review, Tryst, VLQ-Verse Libre Quarterly, Morbid Outlook
and various other on-line publications.
Her future publications include the upcoming anthology "Cosmic Brownies" (The Sun Rising Poetry Press).
Visit Maria on AuthorsDen
After Dinner Mints by Maria Lupinacci, published by Foothills Publishing
“After Dinner Mints” is a brilliant sojourn through addiction, love, death, relativity and everything in-between, bringing forth the gritty mysticism of life and all of its offerings. Ms. Lupinacci is a Certified Massage Therapist, Reiki Master and an Integrated Energy Therapist who currently resides in New Jersey....
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Featured in our first ever print issue are several well-known contemporary sonneteers including Eric Linden, Joe Ruggier & Richard Vallance from Canada; Robin Ouzman Hislop and Sara Russell of the UK; and Sondra Ball, Esther Cameron, Jim Dunlap and Carrie Ann Thunell of the USA.
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Editor, SONNETTO POESIA ISSN 1705-4524
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Listed in The Poet's Market 2006 (August 2005)
Click the above banner to discover our free weekly market e-zine and searchable database of writer's guidelines with 1,000 publications - 200 that publish poetry.
[Click the banner to learn more about this award.] Q U I C K I E S - an e-book of erotic/humorous stories for women
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Visit Crystal Rose's Place
Val Magnuson Galactic Poet Award
An exciting new anthology, by Kedco Studios Artist Profile Press,
THE PERILS OF NORRIS, #58 - Norris meets the Absinth fairy.....
The image of the Hill's Absinth bottle in this episode of The Perils of Norris cartoon was used by kind permission of Dan Hill at hillsabsinth.com. For more information about this exciting bohemian drink, plus Vicky Vixen cartoon and info about Hill's Absinth cocktails, click the bottle link on the left to visit their fun, interactive website...
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You Know Why He Beat You
© Nordette Adams January 2005
You know why he beat you...
Beasts chew his gut and
he pound you to deafen
voices that curse the ruts of his life,
how he came to be nothin'
how he never was nothin'
how he ain't gon' be nothin'.
He beat you, justifyin' rage, to
pacify demons that scream
he a liar, run game on himself, explainin'
you deserve being beat down, bitch.
He got an itch for other hips
a taste for fresher lips
and no balls to stand and say so
unless he make you to be a ho'
He beat you 'cuz like Amnon
seein' Tamar's beauty to be a power over him
must destroy her and you bein' a beauty
havin' power over him you gots to bleed
you be the lamb slaughtered for his lust,
his bulbous ego is just a pussy to Satan's dick,
he must make his weakness stick to you
and think he a man. And then it's all
your fault, Tamar.
He rape you then hate you.
You gots to bleed, bitch, and justify
his itch to be as Lucifer
thinkin he deserve all that milk and honey
reserved for the righteous.
He see in you a kingdom
and know he got no part.
Then he hate you because he raped you.
Your face screams his scarlet sin
and he punch you to make it stop.
And folk hear and do nothin'
thankin' Jesus it's not them.
You know why they beat us,
defame our name on news
dismiss our right to sing the blues,
talk about a Bell Curve,
who is cursed and who deserves...
'cuz blood cries out from soil of
amber waves and purple majesty
is a bruise.
The Word shouts,
hollers like a new widow,
"you raped a people"
So they sleep better as
our beauty's painted evil.
Ducks and Swans on the Lagoon
© Nordette Adams March 2005
Once I was a little girl in white,
my dress' skirt flared out,
poofing above stubby black knees.
Lace trimmed white socks
kissed the ankle rims of my
spiffy bright Striderite hightops,
perfect for kicking the shins of
boy cousins who tried
to steal kisses from a
little brown girl with springy
Shriley Temple curls,
well-scrubbed and smelling of
Ivory Soap and Johnson's Baby Powder
still.
Daddy took me to City Park then.
Always before entering I yelled
at General Beauregard atop his
stone steed at the traffic circle:
"Come down from there,
you ole Beauregard!"
My mom had taught me to rail at
dead racists. I suppose in this way
she prepared me to rant at bigots
alive, those I'd surely meet
growing on the streets of
New Orleans, Louisiana,
but back then I was just a
little girl with Shirley Temple curls
in white with her Daddy, giddy and
light, eager to feed ducks and swans,
that glided, rarely flapping to flight
from the placid waters of the City Park Lagoon.
And we cast our bread upon the waters
and fed the birds--ducks, swans, and
fat pigeons on the banks.
I was happy.
First Came Darkness
© Nordette Adams 2004
A virgin's tale...
He ushered her to isolation when she arrived a troubled girl.
He consoled that she vent to him because he cared.
He kissed first gently while she rambled through frustrations.
He did not stop despite her asking that he cease.
He pinned her to a place of hollowness in brutal moments.
He took her home.
He called the next day and her mother answered.
He asked for her and she was called to speak.
He said, "Sorry to manhandle you last night, my love."
He explained that he had doubted her a virgin
until he saw the sheets.
He insisted she was his forevermore for he was first.
She answered not, hung up, and mentioned him no more.
So focused on the stain upon the sheets--
He didn't see the stain he'd left upon her soul.
And We Go On
© Nordette Adams September 2004
Whittle an "S" on our chest:
Supernation!
…Charging all lights, brigade,
eclipsing amber waves of
obfuscation.
Boots and cape,
red, white, and blue,
zealous to leap 110 stories
of visceral weeping
for glory and honor
of our due
justice.
Liberty lift up your skirt,
rinse blood from its hem into the Hudson.
What is the cleanser that brings closure to our pain?
Carla Dodd has been writing in some form or another most of her life, from slipping notes under the door to end arguments as a child to creative writing classes and 20 years as a journalist.
Carla lives in St. Louis, Missouri, USA, where she is a free-lance writer. She has a BS in Journalism and English from Mississippi University for Women in Columbus, Mississippi. Carla has written sports, news, feature and business articles for local St. Louis weekly newspapers and does publicity for a variety of small business clients and not-for-profits. She also plans special events for charity.Arise, O Center Stage
© Carla Dodd 2001
Just as the sky takes center stage
and hot sun fills as day 'house lights'
turning skin warmed pink and fur much warmer
October's breeze breathes its cooling sigh.
The auburn mare's tail combed, windswept
Bison nod quiet thanks from welcome shade
and slender aspen leaves tremble an ovation
giving autumn drama its accolades.
Lather rinse repeat
© Carla Dodd 2001
The lady of the river washes her hair
when it rains.
Submerged and fresh-scrubbed
by jade crystal waters
she shakes out her mane
letting the soapy whitecaps wash
and the pull of deep, fast currents tumble clean.
When the river recedes
she sits by the banks
and lets the canyon breeze blow
through her thick, fine tresses,
soft springtime color at the roots,
lush summer in June,
kissed gold by October sun,
long and full in the breeze.
Rio Grande Gorge
© Carla Dodd 2001
Cold princess of glass
a million years young
angrily carving away
at the earth.
Sol seduces
and she melts
surrendering her ice
she runs deep
her blood coursing
earth's veins.
I lie with their child
borne lifetimes ago
scanning the brown earth
green velvet
carved deep by her touch.
The furrow of his brow
still kissed by her snowdrifts
the planes of his shoulders
softness of his skin
river of his blood
flowing below.
Mermaid
© Carla Dodd 2001
Warm breeze combs and fluffs
her ponytail
as she tiptoes and springs towards the water.
A tug at her nape
pulls the band
from her tresses
shaken free
tossed and tangled about.
Shorts pulled away
to her swimsuit
she dives,
silken tresses cascading
a waterfall trail.
Neptune caresses his child
wraps her warm
in his undertow
hair cascading,
falling to her breasts.
Sailor's wanton
a woman
and a child
of the water
playful glimpses
on the surface
throaty laugh
as she dives.
Swimming deep
with her breathren
silver scaled and finned
she tumbles and glides
bird of water in flight.
Soon her gills vanish
and she must surface
warmed face
breathing deeply
fins become long legs
until Neptune calls again.
Reflection That Rivals a Poem
© Debashish Haar
With the clay of my thoughts
I try to sculpt what any man can see:
liberation bartered for the graves of children,
incense sticks lighted for holy men,
tombstones constructed of black marble,
fields scattered with skeletons,
vultures and living corpses bearing the names of heroes...
What else can be the picture of past
other than memories punctured,
like deserts pierced with snake and cactus?
What streams can wash it?
What lotions can heal its wounds?
The swarms of flies, that evolved,
cover the dead nightingales
while the night strolls in sleepwalk...
As the night stretches its womb, the day inches towards a re-birth;
while the shut and bolted window
of the sea pauses to reject us.
The corridor of the sea is endless
and entries are free,
exit takes a price:
our print, us and our past....
I can see with my fingers
what my eyes touch:
shadows and the billowing past....
With shadows I make reflections,
I scatter reflections with shadows.
Never touched the vanished,
only seen with eyes closed:
the translucent birth
and the crystalline fall,
the reflection that rivals the poem…
Blood Is Splattered on a Parchment
© Debashish Haar
Blood is splattered on a parchment,
syllables resonate in percussion,
while the words precipitate the form—
a poem...
The poem is a book—
each read, a new leaf,
each verse, a new vein on those leaves—
that changes form and structure.
The poem is a desert
that gardens Cacti and snakes;
and bakes and burns each fold of foliage—
in the mirage of its verse...
The poem is an ocean
that holds streams of serenity,
streams of thoughts
find solace in its lap.
The poem is the sky
that skirts the land
and kisses the aquamarine,
and promises to fulfill their wishes—
poems are the landforms that make those kisses...
The poem is a drum of liberty
that melts the shackles—
both inside and outside...
It is the bondage and hunger
that impersonates the eyes.
The poem is a sonata
played in solitude
in the epitaph of lost love—
poem is the memoir...
The poem is a bond
that connects love and passion.
Poem is the fire that incinerates the bond...
The poem is a screen
that hides its characters
and allows the toolkit of their features
to carve its form—
poem is the narrator with no form.
Transfigurations
© Debashish Haar
Dream inscribes its letters, secretly,
in dawn’s safe archives, in invisible ink...
The darkest blood survives to birth
orchids of revolutions on the pages,
or the bubbling of cadence in gardens
of wounds that never heal...
I can see better with eyes closed,
as the phrases drill through time,
waiting at the end of the tunnel...
The endless inkwell of transfigurations
walk through the patio of echoes,
past broken limbs of time.
hushed fountainheads.
In this desolation
I see people falling on themselves,
in sleep with eyes wide open,
falling without moving.
a sleep, a falling with no return—
a descent towards a space with no datum.
Waiting inside the tunnel—
even the blind can see the shape of wind,
the deaf dance in the spiral stairway of dream.
Musing Physiology
© Maria Lupinacci April 16, 2005
Someday we will forget that our sex
is a good sex, a bare-bellied, leave-the-lights-on
sex. We will forget
the capabilities of the body, how it arches
and folds in demonstration of impermanence
of winged emotion fixated on release–
the epoch of spooning
evolved through extreme vibrations
within our synergetic fields:
more mornings than we could count
lying sideways,
fingers kneading muscle
from bone in push-pull motion,
expelling lifetimes of bad karma
accrued through fate and those abhorred moments
of coitus interruptus.
How we are naturally cannibalistic
underneath the skin, first believing that our appetites
can be appeased by tongue grazing,
forgetting
we are vessels of consumption, of expansion.
The carnal need to press and feed on extremities
churning within doctrines
of copulation, of culmination,
of fruition –
the underbrush beneath our backs:
exhale from the navel. Exhale.
Things Unwritten
© Maria Lupinacci April 05, 2005
You wore fuchsia
My idea really, though it was your favorite shade.
It’s “in” this year. Fuchsia
lines the hottest magazines, mannequins
parade it on their plastic breasts, even the men
don it.
Symbolic isn’t it?
But I won’t lose myself in the illusion
that the comeback of fuchsia
carries some universal message
for me and what I thought I dealt with:
We cleared charts one to infinity; our soul connection
severed at the root–
Yours an act of heroism, to free body and mind of poisons
it could not live without.
Mine an act of preservation, to save the spirit from something
it could not survive.
Intrinsic forms, yours and mine. How eagerly we erased
what could not be undone, still–
The color you wore to the funeral
thirteen years ago has resurrected
your image. Has reminded me
how little we knew:
addictions are addictions. Our fascination with all things
taboo and the idea
that death would overlook us–
as if in some movie we were angels on holiday
exploring love and sex, getting high
for the first time, the second, the third and on
until we forgot
that angels,
like colors must eventually return
and that a holiday is only
a short stay.
Defining Jena
© Maria Lupinacci April 05, 2005
She’s something, this girl;
her coming out portrayed in abstract strokes.
She is the saffron moon
caressed by the eclipse.
You would remember her
if you met her, remember her fear
as if it were your own; her face
would be a ghost sustained within the origin
of your illusions. You would seek
a cure for her, write pages of poetry
to burn in your backyard,
watch her form mingle between flames
and the image you hold unto your self:
how naked she becomes in the shadow of smoke.
Question time before you knew her, before you understood
that sometimes
it is the words not spoken--
the crux in its simplicity of the fact
that reality is a guise
time uses to suspend the soul.
And you would know,
that she is something.
AVAILABLE NOW - Sara Russell's new e-book on CD ROM: WORLDS INSIDE THE HEAD 
OUT NOW - CANADIAN SPIRIT VOICES
by Richard Vallance...
An amazing new e-book
published by Kedco Studios Inc.
SONNETTO POESIA ISSN 1705-4524 (Canada) Vol. 4. no. 2 spring 2005 is going to print. 
Poetry Life & Times won The Prix Poesie's laissez-faire Grand Prize in 2002
- thanks Richard!
by Sara L. Russell and Patricia diMiere. Published by
Kedco Studios Artist Profile Press - ISBN 1-878431-42-0, $12.50
Original, funky and naughty, with twists and surprises!
editors in Canada, the U.S.A. and the U.K. at:
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ou au
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The Crystal Rose © Ice Shard
OUT NOW! CRYSTAL DAWN
ISBN 1-878431-71-9.
Award-winning poetry, a full novel, 10 Shakespeare plays plus free photographs for any use. Contributors: Robin Ouzman Hislop - Richard Van der Draaij - Cara Alson - Gillian Stokes -Jasmine
Dienes - Tyler Wiseman - Doctor C. S. Shaw - Vladimir Orlov - Monica Smith - Nick Zegarac
- Aurora Antonovic - C. S. Snow - K. V. Davis, full novel.
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