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Index of poets:
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No Borders (i) The grace of shapely statues: In the emptiness of their eyes, All their appeal is departed. From the Agamemnon of Aeschylus Translated Louis Mc Neice. i. Grave´s Park on High Norton. An evening´s jet Crossed sky trajectories This hill bound scene. An England merry Summer green Of duck & squirrel, Pond & bloodhound, Where flocks she now Fair teenage locks upon His naked breast laid & boldly flares for crotch. Nor anxious furtive look That as it scares, dares, Delays ravishment When sacrifice is done Together with the setting sun. (ii) Somewhere in Africa ..... Let God be some tribal female who is known but forbidden. Let there be this God who is a woman who will place you upon her shallow boat, who is a woman naked to the waist (.....) and wild breasts, her limbs excellent.... Anne Sexton. ii. Awake to a world , mind from the dream just left behind to the parallel existence you find. The course of human folly speeds relentlessly on unerringly, life terrifyingly false on human limits & realisation they come to nothing, not that there is nothing. Our frame of existence, a proven human story beginning & ending miscellaneous between, death yet a surprise few & far together with the corporeal havoc the present frames as phases , plains without shores. It's yet to be said by the invisible editor inside my head, time no more idealised in existance beyond change & words as perfect as Zeno´s arrow. iii. No Borders. Heart, head, hand, heel more transparent than this mirror, memory of another war, the anonymity of the crowd. Disease, devastation, deprivation, what went wrong homo Spain, in the name of knowledge, what have you done? This room wide open, scent of a too early an autumn mist almost sulpherous in the night air like clouds of martian dust. Is the land alive or dead, is the end then false, where the aboriginal ancestor paints the written secret of his dream? iv. Once Upon a Time The children used to play under every window way that let out on the day because from every window cast a spell, a charm, a song that was known to everyone, where the children used to play, once upon a time. & then one day it went away for nearly all & everyone until remained only an old little lady in her window of flowers, her cottage bowers & fairy hours who knew all the stories to tell who kept all the secrets well where the children used to play. & then one day she went away away for nearly all & every one who remembered once upon a time there was an old little lady in a window of flowers, where the children used to play. v. Under the Harvest Moon. Emerging from the trees summer seems almost gone to this midland rain, as i lose sight of divinity in multiple diversity. Where now the mystery, here on these borders man, woman & non human & the all that can be anything to each & anyone. The incomparable archetype, each, both & neither to the infinity of beings we all come from & those that became the brilliance of the sun To a moon that fetched them home again, where all distinctions fade & her psyche will never trade, incarnation at the mouth of creation, under the harvest moon. vi. i shall enunciate by the doom of creation, in this world opposed to both old & young, life is the heartbreak of consciousness. life before death & the yet loneliness. can we go no further than description of self? how to frame the question in the frame & in conceiving find no escape of this, to exist is to be crushed, overwhelmed, to know the sightless sight of the blind, to be helpless to resist the final kiss. here now i would be companion to embrace, pain is a wound that outlasts life´s breath is there not then loneliness after death? vii. old country lanes, once small in the day long. grew large & shut the day down, but in vain. time shrinks in eternity, yet to be completed. framed in the window, the transparent skeleton moment. existence phases, life quickens, no borders on the horizons. viii. The Cripple. what place a disabled heart in the neighbourhood humanoid creaks, stars too slump in a wheelchair slag it downstairs on a ramp clamp on the ramp. stars shine on me shine on me from you It's true & high on the stair the wheel in the air i cant fall anywhere though i try & on the street i exist crippled to every gaze under vaulted skies where the body snatchers avoid me ix. The Vole. he stoops to touch, minute, so still in the autumn grass, brown fur back, smooth, dead? if he picks it up, will it nip? take it back, show it to her, or the cat! no not that, or put it out to other cats! in a panama hat. we all come from this gene, a microcosm of the human plain. he spirals into natural selection, after each ice age, speculation. his finger yet to touch, are circumstances apart their trace pattern, astral affects! too late, the vole does permit further this metaphysical tease & vanishes into the undergrowth. Copyright Robin Ouzman Hislop 2005 All Rights Reserved * No Borders completes the last section of Robin's forthcoming anthology, Blue Corn. ROBIN OUZMAN HISLOP: Born UK. Childhood in Lyme Regis & Poole Dorset. Lived Scotland & Scandinavia, The East & Spain. A great deal of my life has been spent out of England, my mother's side is Scottish & I take the name Hislop, as writer's name from her family name. Bachelor in Arts (Hns). Philosophy & Religion. Manchester University. Resident at Pakistan, Lahore. Studies at Punjab University, New Campus, Lahore: Sufism (Tasawuf), Jalal-U-Din Rumi & Ibn Arabi. Sheffield University: Spanish & Latin American Cultural Studies. Resident in Spain from 1985 until December 1998 (Madrid and Salamanca): Resident at Salamanca, 1996-98: English Language teacher and translator for “El Ateneo”. Organisation of bilingual poetry readings at Casa do Brasil, Madrid Complutense University, Escuela Oficial de Idiomas, (Madrid Official School of Languages), Cafés Manuela and Magerit, O’Connors Pub, Madrid, El Ateneo and El Corrillo in Salamanca. Translations of poetry include 1927 Spanish Generation Poets: selections of F.G. Lorca, Luis Cernuda, Rafael Alberti, M. Altolaguirre, Miguel Hernandez and Vicente Aleixandre’s poems; and the Chilean poet Andres Fisher, Las Diosas Blancas an Anthology edited Ramon Buenaventura, an anthology of poetry Alchemy by Tessa Duncan from Spanish and James Stephens Fairy Stories into Spanish have been more recent activities. I hope to feature these, as well as introducing new translations with originals on my web page soon to be opened IBIS. I am interested in revivalist movements in modern poetry. Appeared in Dawn Millenium Anthology published by Kedco Studios & this year appeared in their Crystal Dawn Anthology. Frequently featured in the E zines Poetry Life and Times, Autumn Leaves, Sonnetto Poesia, Canadian Zen Haiku, appeared on Artvilla, Poetry Repairs, the Celtic Pagan Poetry Pages Journal, as featured poet in the Beltane edition & Ancient Dawn E zines amongst others. This year will publish own anthology Blue Corn which will incorporate performance, on web cam and voice recital with Kedco Studios. My present book After the Cave the Comet was published this month by Mystic East. Became a Resident Poet of Poetry Life & Times in January 2005. More of Robin's work can be found here:
Amparo Arróspide's Gift of Tongues: EXCLUSIVE NEWS UPDATE: Some of Robin's poems are due to appear in an anthology "Blue Corn", to be published by Kedco in 2005. 
Also Robin's exciting epic "After the Cave, the Comet" is now available for purchase either as a CD or Ebook at www.giftoftongues.co.uk
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Friday the Thirteenth. Quatrain Encomium
(Lament no more!)
"For the Lord will not cast off for ever,..."
Lamentations 3:31
I
So... tomorrow's the Thirteenth! You say "So What?"
It's Friday, man! Don't you know what that means?
It means, you fool, if the moon runs full, go, go shut
your shutters tight, and beware of howling wolverines!
II
What have we here? Have Werewolves wailed abroad? Are they on a prowl?
Well that means there’ll be vampires too, who’ll dance on you footloose.
Hear. Whose gone, hoot, "Watch out!" ? Hear that wise old owl?
It means, your goose is cooked, you silly half-baked goose.
III
It means, you can’t let black cats poke under ladders.
It means, you musn't take the thinnest of sliced risks.
It means, those same chats noirs * are scaredy-cats to adders
because the latter nip them, falling, slipping disks.
* black cats
IV
It means you're superstitious as your Papist Priest
clutching cross, falling on your rosary, loathe to cross
Satan in your path, or some prefigured rabid beast
your mind concocts, cannibalizing dross.
V
Come now! Tomorrow's not the day to celebrate
“for better or for worse”, because it could transpire,
(the worse, mean I), while we in vain prostrate
ourselves before Athena’s much fiercer fire!
© by Richard Vallance 2004, revised 2005
* * * * * * * * * * * * * * * *
Kenned by Moons
Where waves foam briskly, listen! No? They’ll send
spray breaking off stars glassed, as wizards might,
where, source of fretted madness, high tide’s kenned
by moons a’froth, gone rabid at your sight.
If pin pricked stars reflect translunar light
that flecks our sleeper seas so sleeplessly,
they’re far too calm, too cold for your poor sight
too weak to see, all ears pinned on a dour sea.
Through you the full moon’s loons, eyes peering, wail
at white pined shadows, and in wild throngs
cry “Foul!” before you’ll find that chance to sail.
Come! All that time you’ve spent along cold shores
in mourning for your long drowned child, your songs
went echoes haunting not his rotten pores.
© by Richard Vallance 1999, revised 2005
RICHARD VALLANCE was Born in Guelph, Ontario, Canada, March 11th., 1945. He holds an Honours B.A. and Master of Library Science, and is fluently bilingual in English and French. He also reads Spanish and Italian, ancient Greek and Latin well. He wrote his first major poem at the age of 18, in 1963. Richard has also distinguished himself in the field of library and information science. In 1983, he won the $1,000 Data Courier Award for Excellence in Online Published Papers.
Richard has composed over 2,500 poems. He is the Chairperson of the Ottawa Chapter of The Canadian Poetry Association, website = Canadian Poetry Association: Affiliation Ottawa Chapter. He is also a member of The Canadian Federation of Poets, where he is the Canadian Federation of Poets/ Featured Poet (January 2005). Richard judges and pre-selects all rhymed verse poetry for CFP's official journal, POETRY CANADA. Richard's world class poetry page is Poesie’s laissez-faire Faire Foire, which showcases over 40 poets worldwide. PLFFF features sonnets, haiku, contemporary and historical poetry. PLFFF is a member of Phenomenal Men of The Web: Arts & Humanities. Richard is the Editor of 2 Canadian poetry E-Zines, Canadian Zen Haiku canadien ISSN 1705-4508 and Poetry in Emotion = La Poésie à s'émouvoir ISSN 1705-4516, and is the editor of the sonnet journal in print, SONNETTO POESIA ISSN 1705-4508, to be listed in 2006 Poet's Market and distributed online by OpenMic.com. Creativity Pays (USA). Richard's poetry and sonnets frequently appear in such in print poetry journals as POETRY CANADA, POEMATA (Canadian Poetry Association), The Neovictorian/Cochlea (Madison, Wisc., USA) and The Nisqually Delta Review (USA). His CD-ROM book, Canadian Spirit Voices, Kedco Studios, Las Vegas, NV © 2003, ISBN 1-878431-44-7, some 500 pp. long, contains over 130 of his poems, almost 300 haiku, 32 translations of poetry in ancient Greek, Latin, Italian, German and French into English poems by the author, a novella, DENIZEN, and the 100 + pp. essay, "The Historical Evolution of the Sonnet". He is the Editor-in-Chief of the all-new multilingual international poetry anthology, The New Pleiades Anthology of Poetry = le Florilège de la nouvelle Pléiade, Kedco Studios, ISBN ISBN 1-878431-52-8 to be published in the summer of 2005. Finally, Richard is co-editor with Sondra Ball of the USA, of the North American poetry anthology, The Human Face = le Visage humain, Kedco Studios, ISBN ISBN 1-878431-52-X, to be published in 2006. Richard Vallance moderates 2 major poetry discussion groups, The New Pleiades Mirror and Canadian Zen Haiku canadien. CONTACT: Richard Vallance
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WHATEVER Whatever is the sea where we swim. It is the sky, the air, the velvet black Where lay the diamond stars, galactic necklaces, The pearl moon and the ringed jewel of Saturn. And through which the fury of the Sun dispenses life. Whatever is the flash and vanish Of the smallest bits of matter That come and go in brief haunt To jiggle emptiness into cosmos. It is magnificence of running horses, Terrifying flash and grumble of a lightning stroke, The gentle sway of curtains of a heavy rain, The majesty of a cat. Whatever is a mother with her child, The picket fence of day and night through time, The mindless calamity of tsunami, The vengeance of atomic fire. Whatever moves the universe, Relentless and ignorant of good or bad, Unaware of ugliness or beauty, Neither kind nor cruel. Whatever made the fog the dog the flea the frog Tyrannosaurus and Alpha Centaurus, The apple, ant, asp and ape Made you, made me. Nor can we say What it may be. © Jan Sand, September 2005 THE CONCEIT Beneath all sense and sensation Where the secret gears revolve, Where the snap and slap of molecules Enforce the chains of interaction Tightly confined by history’s Ken of missteps to disaster, Processes proceed to decree What whims may move to generate Solidities of what we think as will. This hubris each of us accepts That we decide how and what and when Discounts continuity’s mechanics, Ignores that flicks of memory, Twitches of perception, Are chemistry and circumstance. We luxuriate in self deception Are unaware We are a cosmetic flower Perched within this strange beast’s hair. © Jan Sand, September 2005 MULTIPLES If you are shocked by flocks of foxes, Deterred by a herd of birds, Never fear, it’s quite clear You can be coerced by words. Crowds of clouds, schools of fools Probably screw up the rules, Never mind about ghouls, Grouping them disrupts their cools. Rags, we know, do well in bags, Religions have their orthodoxies, Normally packed up in boxes, And centipedes with lots of legs Are shipped in bottles, jars or kegs. Ideas move in disciplines, Impulses shift alone. Fears can multiply most surely By radio or telephone. What causes things to scatter Or, perhaps, to clump And what we name them may matter, Be obvious or stump. Classes labeling the masses Are, of course, selective. Questions arise, with some surmise. Are they connective or defective? Never mind, it’s mind that binds. We favor generalities. We whim their names in mental games With uniques and pluralities. © Jan Sand, September 2005JAN SAND is a poet and illustrator from New York (now residing in Helsinki), 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. Back to top
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Sara L. Russell (Editor)
Won Internet Arts Award from Kedco Studios Artist Profile Press. Runner-up in Capricorn International Love Poetry competition 1998. Her website Poetry Life & Times recently won the Alpha Poets' Poetic Eyes web award. Won Poet of the Week in the Poetry For Thought group (The Globe groups) for the week April 28-May 4th, 2001, with the poem "If You Were Mine". Inducted into The Poets' Hall of Fame, 2001, and included in its anthology for that year. Recently broke several bones after falling from a train; now fully recovered after almost a year, and walking without a limp following a recent successful hip operation.
5 illustrated e-books published by Kedco Studios Artist Profile Press (most recent first):
Worlds Inside The Head, Quickies, Spiders And Gliders, A Way With Words (in collaboration with four other poets) and Pinky's Little Book of Shadows.
Also published in several Kedco e-book anthologies and Forward Press bound book anthologies.
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