New York City. 14 evocative poems by Margaret Wilmot.
«In sneakers and singlet he smiles sprinting by.The narrow housefronts flush, grow warm.
Children on a stoop talk rules to a game, pointing out
sidewalk trees, which, thickly green, give off
a breath of summer, and day’s end. Lime-green
a woman slices over to the cafe, all glass, all reflection
as a red sun burns down to the horizon...»
Claus: sun, light, windows
Five multicultural poems by Duane Locke, Doctor of Philosophy in Renaissance Literature and author 14 books.
«The stones in his mouth did not interfere with speech.It was a Grecian method for improved oratory...»
Claus: life
Second-wave immigrant, John Horváth Jr. writes from inside the sinner where events are experienced, history swells, and memory shields. We publish three poems from his early work.
«They wash their feetthey do their dance
so beautiful their dancing feet...»
Claus: feet, dance, beautiful, slaves
Cornwall. A poem by Pedro Sevylla de Juana. Also available in Spanish.
«To livefrom a purely human point of view
is to sink gently into the sea of reality
and to swim till the weariness beneath the floating islands
fleeing from voracious fish and oceanic snakes...»
Claus: view, point, reality
The poetic hommage from Margaret Wilmot to Argentina. Also available in Spanish (translation by Livia Felce).
«Only the rust-flecked rowel remains,artifact of plains rich in dust...»
Claus: time, silver, love, mind, life, land
Five poems by the actor/director/writer Laurence Overmire.
«We should have seen it comingThe future is not hard to predict...»
Claus: door, death
From San Francisco we receive the musical words of Delos T. Brown.
«in my kitchen you were sodeliciously beautiful,
dancingly handsomely teasingly
stunning...»
Claus: dance, kitchen, socks
A hyperpoem by one of our first collaborators, Tina Escaja, with us again for our 12th anniversary. Translated from Spanish by Helen Wagg.
«One lie, a false identity that unites, a perverse partnership that constrains...»
Claus: lie, illusion, buttocks
A poem by Sam Silva, a columnist and author who has been nominated seven times for the Pushcart Award.
«In a trailer beside the riverclustered by strange dreams
of wildflower and willow
my feet are stuck to this humid tar...»
Claus: feet, dreams
Doctor of Philosophy in Renaissance Literature, Duane Locke is the author of these five poems. He has had over 5,000 poems published in over 500 print magazines and has written 14 books.
«Flabbergasted by the guests, my enemies,The enemies have keys to the gate...»
Claus: hair, sea, dark
Six poems by John Horváth Jr. He writes:
Every poet knows foundations, the beginnings of things structured, formalized, captured. Poets build on these much as an internal decorator must build around re-existing structures. There is art in hiding the squares, the straight lined beams, the corners where spiders lurk. A poet’s empathy and sympathy render things observed more open to discussion, more human, and more dignified—less captured and unchanging. My technique is to revise a longhand sketch to traditional form/meter (not necessarily English); then, revise to “free” verse/lyric narrative. Thus, I explore. I distance myself from a subject because, as Plato noted, “Poetry endangers the established order of the soul.” Poetry must endanger; so, poets must use care.
«“in nomine patri”She was conceived in a holy place.
Far from where she stands, architects
saw her before first stones were cut...»
Claus: dream, love, walk, time
Two poems by the columnist and author Sam Silva.
«Look down on what the Lord has made!Gaze on the valleys of the strong!
The mind craves dance
...thoughts along
the rhythm of a song afraid
and sung
by April, and her cross,
her flowers...»
Claus: mind, spring
Five poems by Duane Locke.
«Sea girls with whole human bodies,Mermaids, human bodies above,
Fish bodies below, sing songs...»
Claus: light, song, sea
Two love poems by Delos T. Brown.
«Surround mewith that black velvet stillness,
like when we dance so close...»
Claus: arms, skin, neck
Five poems by Duane Locke.
«The hoof printsOn
The
T-shirt...»
Claus: shoes, someone, shadow, price, dance
A long poem by Margaret Wilmot.
«The wild fruit forests ofthe Ili Valley, where
a tangle of apples,
pears, plums, apricots and
other berrying trees,
like hawthorn and rowan,
hang on high slopes I see
in that geography
of the mind as sunlit
uplands...»
Claus: light, mission
24 poems by Margaret Wilmot.
«Your roses in the copper bowlon the dining-room table, lemon yellow,
salmon, pink, all taking of
each other’s warmth to glow...»
Claus: roses, hills
Eight evocative poems by Margaret Wilmot.
«You left the crying baby, small apartment,walked down the hill to the train across the Bay...»
Claus: war, eyes, pain, light
Ten 12-liners by Margaret Wilmot.
«Not inside the sanctuary, nor even when the slopecurved round and I saw the temple ringed with peaks,
which at that early hour seemed to be lifting it...»
Claus: light, life
The author’s cat, a mystery like every cat. A poem by Sam Silva.
«Gypsy Rose curls under a tableon a screened-in porch
during a night when the rain is constant
and dim lights flicker like a torch...»
Claus: kittens, eye
Five poems by the Malaysian-Indian traveller and writer Susan Abraham.
«She was a pugnacious sort, a lizard tonguepreying on overtime. She tasted betrayals
for trifles and gossip fed candy into her body
parts, her soul measured eternity all wrong...»
Claus: toes, gossip
A new collection of ten 12-liners by Margaret Wilmot.
«They talk football in the train, cite names,players’ moves, critical, appreciative; last night
there were no heroes, just the team. When I next
wake to their chat it’s mortgages, investment plans...»
Claus: coffee
From the Argentinian living in Switzerland E. Murray, six poems. Translated from Spanish by the author.
«I shall write this poem until you get nakedand hold it
in the middle of the night laughing:
what am I doing here
undressed?...»
Claus: nothing, francs, silence, tuesday
A Hot January és una col·lecció de poesia contemporània en anglès.