| November 2004 | Café Society's Poetry News Update |
| November 2004 | Café Society's Poetry News Update |
 | Carmen Ruggero Poet and Photographer |
| A
native of Argentina, Carmen Ruggero made America her home in 1959. She
lived in California for most of this time, making the stage, a big part
of her life. Carmen is also a photographer, specializing in black and
white portraiture, and has worked as a news photographer for local
publications. Her photography work was featured in a recently released HBO documentary called "Beah: A Black Woman Speaks". The life and work of Beah Richards, actress, poet, and Carmen's long time friend, coach and mentor. Carmen Ruggero's fiction and poetry work has been seen in sites like Short Story Bytes, Scrivener's Pen, and her home away from home: BeWrite. BeWrite Books of London are the publishers of her coauthored poetry anthology "Shaken & Stirred", and a short story collection recently released, "Kaleidoscope". Carmen's poetry will be featured in Poetry in Emotion, to be released in the fall of 2005. Carmen was the recipient of the Prix Poesie's Laissez-faire Award in February of 2004..
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Other Spanish poets who influenced me early life, were
Gustavo Adolfo Bécquer born in Sevilla, Spain, 1830-1870, and
Argentine poet Alfonsina Storni 1832-1938. She was born in Capriasca,
Switzerland of Italian-Swiss parents. Bécquer, and Storni,
strongly influenced my already romantic nature. I was reading their
work before the age of 15. I read “Rimas” when I was twelve years old.
I migrated to the US in 1959 with my parents and my
early influences in English literature were: Elizabeth Barret Browning,
Robert Frost, Edgar A Poe, and Edna St. Vincen Millay I was most
attracted to Robert Frost’s work, because I enjoyed the honesty and
simplicity of his strokes. Of course “The Road Not Taken” is the one
he’s mostly remembered by, but there are many others I read often. “An
Old Man’s Winter Night” and “Into My Own” are two I really like. In the
latter, he speaks of a young man setting his own course through life. I
find the last stanza and his ending couplet particularly appealing:
BeWrite is an independent publisher. Though employing
the latest production technology, it is editorially driven, to ensure
the highest quality reads in the marketplace. Posting our work on site,
is in no way a guarantee that the work will be published, but they will
strive to publish their contributing authors. The site offers many
benefits like: discussions, links to other publishing connections,
ideas from where to draw inspiration, and challenges to the writers on
site. That is how Kaleidoscope came about. One of our authors, an
excellent writer, by the name of Andrew J. Müller from the UK,
suggested a challenge for writers to craft stories around a color. The
project was quite successful in inspiring many of us. The stories cover
a wide range of subjects. I have one story titled: “Operation Orange”
and it is a crime mystery. “When Purple Meets Yellow”, is about comedy
as the opposite side of tragedy. “Marathon Under The Charcoal Sky” is a
story about child abuse, and its lasting consequences. The book
includes thirty-one authors from around the world. I have seven pieces
of short fiction in Kaleidoscope, and it is a collaborative effort of
which I am very proud. Both books, Shaken & Stirred and
Kaleidoscope, as all books BeWrite produces, can be ordered through any
national bookstore, or from site at www.bewrite.net.
I decided back then, to search the web, and see where it
would lead me. I was new to the web, and not knowing what to do, I went
to Google and typed: Publishers. That is how I found Short Story Bytes.
It publishes very short stories on line. I wrote my first story titled:
“Christmas In Tinsel Town” and it was accepted. That story made the
best published list of 2001. Short Story Bytes published a few of my
pieces, and I was now beginning to feel encouraged, but the question
remained how to research and I find a paying market. However, and
considering how new I was, I thought I would test the waters through
web publishing. One benefit was that I began to connect with other
writers. One of them is now my good friend and one great storyteller,
Lad Moore. He told me about BeWrite. I went into the site, looked
around, read as much as I could, and realized they were independent
publishers. I began submitting work to them for on line publication,
and two years later, I’ve been published in print twice.
One very important thing to look for when looking for a
publisher is that the publisher is not asking for money up front. If a
writer has to pay to be published, then we are dealing with a vanity
publisher. As long as you pay, they will publish your material. The
work will go into press unedited. Editing and proofing services are
offered at additional cost. In addition, some vanity publishers will
require the author to buy a given number of books, and it is him, the
author, who will have the sole responsibility for sale and
distribution. Such books often end up collecting dust in someone’s
garage. It is a business, and not one designed to promote the author.
What determines legitimacy is first, that the writer is
not asked for money at front. BeWrite Books does not charge the writer
a nickel. They pay royalties. And most importantly, they are
editorially driven. While that will get some material rejected, it
insures that what they accept is of quality to begin with, and further,
that the finished product will have received editorial and professional
proofing treatment. The final product being one an author can be proud
of. Finding them so early in my writing career was a real stroke of
luck. However, there's more work to be done. Finding other paying
markets like magazines, and other publications; reading them to see
what kind of material they accept is an ongoing process I am afraid,
and one I have barely touched.
I also find lack of imagination annoying. Sometimes I
read poems that make me wonder: why is this person writing poetry? Some
will write poem, after poem with only slight variations on the same
subject; repeating the same words, not ever trying to expand, or find
new forms of expression. What makes some poets famous is not only that
they are good. Many good poets have never received public recognition.
But there are some who are quoted even by people who don’t necessarily
read poetry. And the reason why, is because their expression made them
unique and different. Who does not recognize Dylan Thomas’ words: “Do
not go gentle into that good night”? There isn’t one single fancy, or
complicated word in that sentence. He could have said it in a number of
different ways, but that’s how he said it. “How do I love thee? Let me
count the ways”. Look how simply Elizabeth Barret Browning put that
beautiful thought across. If we are not writing for the love of
language and richness of expression, why are we writing? And finally, I
am annoyed by poets and writers in general who have poor language
skills, and won’t try to do better. Spelling and grammar are a writer’s
tools. Enough said on that subject.
Poetry L & T: How and why did you first start writing poetry, Carmen?
Carmen: The
first poem I ever wrote was an assignment from school. I was in the
third grade, mother’s day was approaching, and our teacher asked us to
write something about our Moms. I wrote it in verse, and very
appropriately titled it: “Mamma”. I remember vividly my description of
her face: “Your skin is as soft as the petals on a rose, your lips are
ruby red, and your eyes shine like the morning star, but best of all I
praise the sincerity in your heart”. No doubt, I was a born romantic. I
wrote poetry throughout my childhood and into my teenage years. What
drove me to write were often emotional issues, looking into the how,
and why of things. Some of the things I wrote were not childlike at
all. In fact, they often got me in trouble. “I sit quietly fermenting
anger”. That was a dramatic statement for a twelve year old. What
triggered my muse more often than not were music, light, scent, and the
elements. Those still play a part in my writing. I had left poetry as
part of a childhood whim until 2001 when my fiction editor Neil Marr
said to me, that judging by the strokes of my narrative he could tell I
could probably work poetry. He suggested I contact Heather
Grace-Stewart, BeWrite’s poetry editor at the time. I wrote four poems
and sent them to Heather fully expecting a rejection in big read
letters saying something like: Get thee back to school! But instead,
the next thing to pop in my e-mail browser, was a contract for Shaken
& Stirred. And that’s what got me back into poetry.
Poetry L & T: Who are your favourite poets?
Carmen: As
you know, Sara, I am a native of Argentina. My introduction to poetry,
literature in general, was in Spanish. And the first poet to inspire me
was José Hernández 1834-1886 and his epic poem:
Martín Fierro. This work, which was required reading in grade
school, was published in 1872. It represents the individual nature of
the Gaucho, and his struggle against the country’s raging urbanization.
He spoke from the heart, and pulled no punches. That got him in a heap
of trouble. I do believe that because he was my earliest introduction
to poetry, and his work was pertinent to our culture, even in the
1950s, that perhaps he has influenced my approach to writing more than
most.
“I do not see why I should e'er turn back,
I find those verses absolutely beautiful. I love the sheer sincerity, and simplicity of expression.
Or those should not set forth upon my track
To overtake me, who should miss me here
And long to know if still I held them dear.
They would not find me changed from him they knew--
Only more sure of all I thought was true.”
Poetry L & T: Your
work appears in two books by your publisher, BeWrite; your co-authored
poetry anthology "Shaken & Stirred", and a short story collection
recently released, "Kaleidoscope". I would like to know more about
these books, having read and enjoyed your work on AuthorsDen...
Carmen: Shaken
& Stirred was a total surprise to me. As I said earlier, I was new
to the site when I submitted four poems to Heather Grace-Stewart. It
just so happened that Shaken & Stirred was still receiving
submissions and Heather included mine. The anthology includes the work
of thirteen poets from around the world. BeWrite Books publishes a
poetry anthology every year, representing the work of the poets who
contribute their poetry to the site, www.bewrite.net . To me, Shaken
& Stirred and my four little poems, humble contribution as it may
seem, represented not just my first publishing, but my return to poetry
as well, and a positive turnabout as both a poet and a fiction writer.
I’ll never forget the feeling when I went to my local bookstore and
held that book in my hand. I had to struggle not to grin and announce
loudly: I’m an author. But the idea of being an “author” gave birth to
a sense responsibility and commitment. As I picked up that book, I knew
that my work had just begun. I understood then, an author’s commitment
to self, to his publisher, and to the public who reads him is a
never-ending process. That day I promised myself to always do my best
to surpass my last effort.
Poetry L & T: Did you find it hard work, initially, finding a publisher?
Carmen: When
I started writing, in the year 2001, I honestly didn’t know I was going
to write anything beyond my first effort. But early on, I decided to
check out the market, and researched it the old fashion way. I bought
publishing manuals, and after a while, began to wonder if maybe I
should consider switching careers, as it all seemed very confusing. I
noticed however, many established publishers were accepting manuscripts
as e-mail attachments. Also, that many could be found on the web, and
all the information needed to contact them would be provided. The
Atlantic Monthly for instance, has an online publication, as well as a
print publication. But the site online will give you information on
both.
Poetry L & T: Your
work appears in several internet journals and ezines. Do you feel that
the internet has opened up new opportunities for you, and for poets in
general?
Carmen:
Absolutely. I find there is still a lack of public acceptance of web
publishing. I have found that attitude, even among some writers and
poets. Public consensus seems to be that if your work does not appear
in print between hard covers, you are not really an author. If one
writes, one is an author. However, what benefit is it to an author to
keep his work in a drawer for months, and even years some times,
waiting for a publisher to read it, and then to have his work rejected
in the end? True enough, there is no money to be made from most web
publishers, and that is how most tend to measure success. But the web
gets our work out there, in the public eye, and if the work is being
read, that is success. It is advertising our work, and our name.
Richard Vallance found me in Authors Den, and he has not just been a
tremendously positive guiding influence, but he is publishing me, as
well. You, yourself would have never seen my poetry had it not been for
the web. It gets us connected not just to the different ezines and
publishers, but it offers the benefit of exchange with other writers
and poets. I know that my poetry work has grown because of my
association and discussion with poets with who I would have never had
the chance to exchange dialogue, were it not for the web. Quality poets
like Helga Ross, Joseph Armstead, Robin Ouzman Hislop, just to name a
few. Heather Grace-Stewart, from BeWrite, was one responsible for
helping me put focus into composition and expression. The potential for
growth is invaluable. When one of my stories at BeWrite, for instance,
ends second on the top ten with 256 reads after only two weeks on the
front page, I know someone is reading my work. What really brought this
phenomenon into focus for me was the first time I received an e-mail
from a reader in India with comments on one of my poems. I think that
is success.
Poetry L & T: Is there anything in modern poetry online that annoys you?
Carmen: Yes.
I find it very annoying when a poem is nothing more than a public
display of woe. Poetry is very personal. Unlike fiction, where we can
take a personal experience and fabricate a situation around it, poetry
is the experience. However, we must write it in language that engages
the reader’s own recollection of that experience. The language in a
poem should be universal. It should not be the poet’s face we remember;
it should be his words.
Poetry L & T: What things, in your opinion, make a poem memorable, or well-written?
Carmen: Poetry
is very subjective. In a well-written poem, first, I look for rich and
inspiring language. I look for uniqueness of expression, for strong
imagery and for all the combined elements in it to bring out of me a
feeling of personal recognition. Good poetry, like good music, and art,
should withstand the test of time. A poem is memorable, when the
language, mood, and images it creates for us today, will still affect
readers in centuries to come.
Poetry L & T: I am intrigued by the story which seems to be unfolding in your poem "Stardust Fading"... was it ispired by someone you had a relationship with?
Carmen: Ah…
no, not inspired by some one, but someone did come into focus. That is
how poetry quickly crosses the fiction line, and it is at that point
that we must work hard to make it a universal experience. I was writing
something else, actually, while listening to a Big Band Collection CD
and Hoagy Carmichael’s Stardust played. I find that piece to be
particularly moody and inspiring. As I listened, the image of a 1940s
ballroom came to mind and I began to note my thoughts as they happened.
A dim, bluish light embellished the scene where a lone couple danced.
It was late, her head rested on his shoulder; his arm laced snugly
around her waist. They seemed to be in-love. Even though the poem was
not triggered by a memory, I wrote it as such, using the repetition of
words to create an echo effect, thus giving the impression of a thought
pattern swaying between the remembrance of a particular moment in time,
and the narrator’s reflections of that moment. I intended the final
lines to be nostalgic. Obviously, the relationship had ended, but at
the same time, I wanted it to be a fond memory. Sometimes, hurt
feelings can keep us from holding on to the good moments we lived.
“….I wonder…
as I see the door
close behind you…
behind you…
and all that echoes
is my mind…
my mind…
is a memory…
of us and a dream
and that night…
vanishing like stardust…
stardust…
fading… fading…”
Poetry L & T: I must say I very much identify with the feelings you express in your sonnet "Winter: A Silent Symphony". When and where did you write this poem... was it a particularly cold winter that year?
Carmen: “Winter:
A Silent Symphony”, is a revised version of “Winter Song”, which I
wrote only recently. This sonnet was perhaps one of the most difficult
sonnets I’ve written. I was unhappy with “Winter Song”. It was
structurally wrong, but the crux of the problem in writing that sonnet,
was that I was only skimming the surface of my own feelings, and what
drove me to write it. It was hard for me to put across what I really
wanted to say. I thought maybe it didn’t want to be structured. Maybe
it wanted to be free verse. But when I tried it that way, it got worse.
Actually, form, though I’ve discovered often dictates itself, was only
a partial problem in this case. The first, and most important problem
for me, was to deal with where this sonnet was taking me. I finally
wrote it all out as a journal entry. Just poured my heart on the page,
then I put it down for a few days and meanwhile, while browsing through
some artwork, I found VanGogh’s painting: “Autumn Garden”. That
painting really inspired me, and it became the prelude to the symphony.
See, the problem I had with “Winter Song”, technical problems aside,
was that I was avoiding the process of discovery. We can’t do that. The
poet, as does the painter, the actor, must allow herself to go through
the process, and discover, discover, discover. And that is how the work
is kept fresh, and allows the reader to discover as well.
“Autumn leaves flip and flutter in the wind,
weaving as they do, a grim winter’s tale;
the yarn unravels swifter than its spin
a story of days growing cold and pale.”
This stanza propelled me into the line I had avoided verbalizing:
“How I hope to steal one last glimpse of spring!
But summer’s spent, fall yields to winter’s sting.”
Poetry L & T: Which, out of your own poems, do you feel most defines you, or your life?
Carmen: “Crabgrass Reflections”.
I submitted this poem to Richard Vallance for his consideration on the
upcoming publishing of “The New Pleaides Anthology of Poetry”. The
inspiration for it came from the word “crabwise”, which means: moving
at an angle. It made me think about the way we communicate, or don’t.
The poem was written to illustrate the stream of thought as it meanders
through the different elements that come into play in our daily life.
As in “Stardust Fading”, I wrote it from the inside workings of the
mind without me getting in the middle of it and manufacturing a plot.
Juggling parenthood, a job, a home, writing, and studying, crabgrass
just about describes my life to perfection. It starts out with the
protagonist looking for her shoes, while trying to start a pot of
coffee.
Poetry L & T: Do
you have a particular place, perhaps a café or an outdoor place
of natural beauty, where you go to write poetry in peace?
Carmen: I
often draw inspiration from the outdoors where light, color, and the
elements in general bear an influence. A small river flows near my
house. The grounds are very peaceful and I often go there, because I
find being near water very relaxing. I also spend time in my own
backyard. It is nicely shaded by trees and I have a few flowers growing
here and there. I gather my thoughts and inspiration outdoors, but I
write indoors without interruptions. I have an old house, built during
the 1940s. It has a basement, designed to be a small apartment. It has
separate rooms, a full bath, and all electrical, water and gas
connections. It is more than merely another part of the house; it is
self-contained. My black and white darkroom and my study are side by
side, and there is where I go and write with no outside interruptions.
Poetry L & T: Finally, Carmen, what are your main ambitions for the future?
Carmen: I
see myself with nothing but time to read and write, and of course, I
see myself published. Famous? I don’t know, time will tell, but
published, yes. That is what I want. But as I compose my poems, as I
plot my fiction stories, as I craft every word, every sentence, I can’t
help but hope that my words will some day make a difference, somehow.
Poetry L & T: Thank you for the interview, Carmen.
Carmen: Thank you, Sara. It was indeed an honor.
 | 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 November 2004 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 Carmen Ruggero, poet and photographer. Featured Poets this month include Helga Ross, Aurora Antonovic, Elisha Porat, The Quill, Richard Vallance and Jan Sand.
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In the Vallance Review for November 2004, Richard's Review No. 39 features Rue of Thought by Helga Ross, along with poems on the theme of war: 867 Recessional June 22, 1897, by Rudyard Kipling, and In Flanders Fields by John McCrae. 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! Also available: Poetry Life & Times logo merchandise. 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 html 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. The animation shows images from the CD. NEW - Poetry Life & Times Mobile Phone Pages + Free Ringtones & Wallpapers! We have started a series of 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, |
Click title below for this month's Vallance Review feature
Richard Vallance reviews sonnets, both classic and modern.
Featured Poets this month include Helga Ross, Aurora Antonovic, Elisha
Porat, The Quill, Richard Vallance and Jan Sand. Many thanks to all
contributors.
HELGA ROSS
Helga loves the
well-written word and loves to write her own; derives great pleasure
from great literature, art and life, and the great outdoors. Her
current environs, Newmarket, north of Toronto, produced and provided
backdrop for the novels of a celebrated Canadian author of earlier
generation, Mazo de la Roche.
Helga expresses
herself through an eclectic writing repertoire of material, style and
form. This last year, however, has been her literary turning point:
She's 'discovered' poetry in a big way. Now, poetry is her passion and
focus. Thanks to the example and encouragement of fellow Canadian,
Poet/Sonneteer, Richard Vallance, she's keen to work with the Sonnet
format. For Helga, the theme is 'Passion' in the broadest sense.
She believes and illustrates in her writing: "The creative mind plays with the objects it loves".
Her poetic voice
is playful, provocative, uplifting. Her serious pieces conclude on a
positive note; reflect her approach to life.
Recent Accomplishments:
Prix Poesie's laissez-faire Faire Award, April 2004.
Poetry selections published in Sonnetto Poesia Vol.3 no.2 Spring 2004
ELISHA PORAT
Elisha Porat, the
1996 winner of Israel's Prime Minister's Prize for Literature, has
published 17 volumes of fiction and poetry, in Hebrew, since 1973. He
was born in 1938 to a "pioneer" family in Palestine-Eretz Yisrael (pre
Israel); his parents were among the founders of Kibbutz Ein Hahoresh, a
Kibbutz on the Sharon plates near the city of Hadera. Today Porat,
devoted to the community ideal, still lives near the original tent
erected by his parents in the early 30s. In 1956 Porat was drafted into
the IDF (the Israeli army) and fought in three wars: the Six Day War in
1967, the Yom Kippur War in 1973, and the War of south Lebanon in 1982.
As a lifelong member of his Kibbutz, Porat worked for many years as a farmer as
well as a writer. His current endeavors also
include editorial duties for several literary journals. He is married with four grown
children - three daughters and a son. In 1998, Porat discovered the internet,
and his growing volumes of work can be found in many literary Ezines. His
translated stories and poems have for years found their way into print, most recently
The Boston review.
Elisha extends his gratitude, as ever, to his several talented, dedicated translators.
Short anthologies from the author's works: Hisnew e-book, Growing Old, is now available from: AURORA ANTONOVIC
Aurora
Antonovic is a Canadian writer and visual artist whose poetry has
recently appeared over 500 times in recent months in publications in
seven countries and five continents. She currently acts as Canadian liasion for Muse Apprentice Guild.
- Carl Jung Make Friends With Yourself!
© Helga Ross, 2004
"Who knows what evil lurks in the hearts of men? The Shadow Knows!"
This phrase followed by a peal of mirthless laughter ...
"You fool, I dare you tell me what to do!"
I thrust and parry with my Shadow Self.
Self-sabotage, our deathless dual is through
I like to think, though proof's the life I shelf.
The things I'd love to do still left undone -
They're devil Dark Side's kicks; the fears I've gripped.
Their measures mark the points I've scored, You've won:
Our High Noon's still ahead, our triggers tripped.
The wise advise there's need to recognize
the Shadow as folly but we befriend,
own our own strength Your presence signifies
or stay trapped in the terrors You tend.
"My Beast, have a bowl of milk", I entreat;
"Let me enlist You to greet foes we'll meet!"
Artless
© Helga Ross, 2004
It looks like poetry; it reads like war,
or obscenity, self-pity, vent spleen.
It sees itself small, artless art the core;
too much the common touch shows itself mean.
Like a whore without heart wears and bestows
her sport, glass bead trash as poison bait garb;
pours words without respect for what she shows;
makes satisfaction without sate the barb.
Poet, I know you; you, the one with heart:
You told me, bared best part, shone your honor.
We share, take great care with cares we'd impart,
hone the stuff our darkest thoughts dishonor.
Do we care gaudy baubles pass as jewels?
Poets true, do, oh dear, indulge the fools!
Flower Her
© Helga Ross, 2004
Childhood daisy chains, innocence afoot,
hop, skip and he loves me, he loves me not;
weeds, her wildflowers, embroider the soot
her fingers print hearts in, darts cupids shot.
Flower her with sweet williams, Spring's bouquet,
your heart sings at sight of first love, her blush.
Cupid's bow smiles, blues forget-me-nots, pray:
"Me too! Yours, narcissus jonquilla's crush."
Bachelor's buttons, lady's slippers, pale
to rose imperatives, buds yellows, red;
to wed: love's fruit to romance blossoms' trail,
seeds, passions, baby's breaths, your bridal bed.
Last of the flowers? Shower the seasons:
Man, wife, yours everlasting, their reasons.
Shall We Dance - Again?
© Helga Ross, 2004
Salute to Spring inspired by delightful duo,
Ginger Rogers and Fred Astaire:
Come outside! Wile with me the first mild day,
welcome warmest months; share the softest kiss,
the freshest caress; air's Astaire squeeze play.
Swing time, Spring; your navy, my pale blue bliss
under baby blue blanket sky. Goose flesh!
Loving this. Daytime dusted with powder
clouds in white gauze wisps while cheek-to-cheek mesh,
beak to beak; bare limbs breeze; rhythms louder
than long we've heard; the music of life stirs
beasts and birds in swing-sway syncopation,
symphonic song bursts for dance connoisseurs,
You and I, our debonair flirtation -
Top Hat's off to One who made us this way -
Crazy for this existential ballet.
Click here for Rue of Thought, subject of this month's Vallance Review
Ariga: 4 poems by Elisha Porat
poems and short stories,
Unlikely Stories: Elisha Porat feature
poems, fiction, interview, reviews,
The Poet's Haven: Elisha Porat
poems, fiction - scroll down to P for Porat; Funky Dog Publishing: Elisha Porat,
Elisha Porat is author of The Messiah of LaGuardia, a collection of stories.
The Shyflower Press, 1307 NW 1st Street, Faribault, MN 55021.In Netanya, above the cliff
© Elisha Porat
In Netanya, above the cliff, on one
of those sweet Friday afternoons, I
sit on a stone that marks the border
between the garden, the promenade
and the street. A warm sun ploughs
furrows that shiver across my back,
echoing the foam above the waves below,
of a wintry sea that retains the chill.
The town around me already
slowly removes the bandages
from terrorist attacks that hurt, grinding down
without mercy. Suddenly I am pounced upon
by this vision I have had before: my whole being
beholds the grim advance, the realization
of day-to-day Zionism.
The first German tourists run up and down
the paths, and the entrance to the gallery throngs
with holidaymakers: the town is coming round;
on warm Friday afternoons; at the end
of spring, two thousand and four.
As before, I am cast aside. Your turn
has not yet come. Someone else
will pledge his heart on your behalf.
With the grim advance, the realization
of day-to-day Zionism, the salt of my
life, and the single breath of spirit
from the fibers closing slowly
around my aging heart.
Translated from the Hebrew by Eddie Levenston
In Netanyah, on the Cliff
© Elisha Porat
In Netanyah, on the cliff, on this sweet
Friday midday, I
sit on the low wall
that runs between garden, promenade
and street. On my back the pleasant sun
ploughs rippling furrows
just like the foaming waves
down below of the winter sea
that hasn’t yet warmed up.
The town around me is already
slowly peeling off the bandages from the
searing attacks that so mercilessly
smashed through it. And suddenly
there swooped upon me
that vision that I have already seen:
my whole being looks upon the dreadfully
nondescript path to
Zionism achieved.
The first German tourists
hurry there and back along the paths,
and at the entrance to the gallery a leisurely
crowd murmurs: the town is coming back to itself;
on the warm Friday midday; at the end
of spring in the year two thousand and four.
I am held over just like then: your
turn hasn’t come yet. And someone or other
will surely give his heart for you.
In the dreadfully nondescript path to
this Zionism achieved, the salt
of my life, and the only soul
of the fibres that are slowly blocking up
around my aging heart.
Translated from the Hebrew by Asher Harris
MEMORY OF MY YOUTH
by Elisha Porat
© Elisha Porat
for Sima and Ephy Eyal
Poetry is a sudden process
of verbal compression.
I remember well one such illumination:
her father was a famous artist
who used to load his brush
with one bullet many --
to explode on the canvas with first touch.
He drew the beautiful head of his daughter
and shook his head with pity at my sweaty pages:
I feel for the two of you,
she dosen`t know yet
that a poet is a continuous process
of the pain of existence.
translated from the Hebrew by Tsipi Keler.
BOUQUET
© Aurora Antonovic
you,
who speak in symbols and not words,
send me a bouquet of bleeding hearts
and an unsigned card
marked simply with an x,
your unspoken way of sending me a kiss
what does it say to you
when I,
who make my living off of words,
choose to say nothing
in return?
A BOX OF TEA
© Aurora Antonovic
Hand picked from a mountain high enough
to escape the ravages of pollution.
Swathed in red satin,
nestled within a wooden box
of ornate design,
hand painted in strokes
heavy with symbols,
and etched in fine gold lettering
Tucked within the leaves
come warm wishes
for a speedy recovery
Scoop a teaspoon into one cup of boiling water,
strain after five minutes,
stir with a drop of honey, if so desired,
and all my love.
LIVING POETRY
© Aurora Antonovic
I will compose a poem for you
This afternoon
But it will not be written with
Mere words,
Flowing lyrical phrases,
Patterned similes,
Or the kind of metaphors that roll off the tongue.
I will be your poetry,
Your searing sonnet,
Lyrical ballad,
Living quatrain,
Ottava rima,
I will form rhyming couplets
From my kisses
And embrace you with a stanza
You won’t be able to erase
Long after
Written words are forgotten,
Ink is smeared,
And letters faded
From tattered pages,
This poem will survive
Because it will be written on your heart,
And it will be dedicated
Solely to you.
NEW YORK COCKTAIL PARTY
© Aurora Antonovic
In a sea of little black numbers
And perfectly coiffed bobs
I am the
Only one
Wearing red silk
And long, misbehaving curls.
In panic, I say to you,
”I am the only one not dressed in black!”
You smile, lean forward,
Kiss my neck
And wickedly whisper,
“I know!”
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