Thursday, December 31, 2009

Champagne - A New Year's Eve Poem



In a beehive, imperfect spheres,
baroque pearls
swarm into the mystery of a fluted glass.

You’re there, your presence a quiet drunkness,
a shell both timid and transparent -
love nautilus that spirals itself  away among madrepores
towards lands of unknown frontiers.

I’m here, a whisper in the lull of your words
rebellious lips,
preparing myself
for the final second of this year of grace
which will pass
before I’m able to explain your love
in a funnel of fireworks and fleeting clocks. 

Tuesday, December 29, 2009

Poetry Frayed At the Edges

My head, lopped off my neck by an invisible guillotine of metaphors, rolls to the floor.

 I’ve been submerged in poetry books for the past few days and it feels as if I’m at the  bottom of a dark cauldron bubbling over with icy waters.

So, where do I go from here - after  reading through blogs, magazines and  tortuous palimpsests – only to absorb the treacherous moods inside haunted forests of words?

The handful of poems that I’ve been combing through look somewhat frayed at the edges tonight and my glasses are fogging up already.

But I acknowledge that there is possibly an even more difficult state of mind. 

That other state of mind we call ‘reality’.

Friday, December 25, 2009

Poetry Press Review - Southern Poetry Review # 47 :2

Issue # 47:2 of the Southern Poetry Review (SPR) is a collection of poems orchestrated through subtle transitions of poetic themes, carefully engineered by its poetry editors.

The issue commences with a group of five poems, followed by « Slow Fuse Around the Cranium » by Elton Glaser, a poem that was awarded the 2009 Guy Owen Prize.

“Slow Fuse Around the Cranium” is a poem written in a vein of humour and lyricism, whose final may be construed as the fulcrum of the poem:

« The future might ring in the rich bronze
Midnight tone of some Mongolian death gong… »

Or maybe not.

Perhaps a few other key points are made (and hidden) in the preceding stanzas where rhetorical questions are asked:

« …when I can
Flay myself in the doldrums of my own home? »

A poetry of surprising metaphors and themes, found on page 17 of this issue of the Southern Poetry Review is « Cleaning the Mermaid » by William L Ramsey.

I should mention that I personally view this poem as a unique artistic achievement in the context of a string of poems of high poetic calibre within the collection.

« Cleaning the Mermaid » by William L Ramsey dazzles through its imagery and poetical treatment.

With no intention to give away the gist of this poem, since its poetic tension can hardly be rendered ‘second hand’ , I would like to quote a few lines, that might provide an inkling as to the  poem’s theme, weaved in over three stanzas.

Here is the beginning of the first stanza:

« What to say of it, the fish part,
    that does not sound like
    any fish »

To note that this forceful beginning is followed by a second stanza, where cascading metaphors are sequenced out in a dramatic crescendo that take the reader to a mountain-top of poetic exhilaration.

Once having reached the high altitude where William L. Ramsey’s poem has taken us, it becomes increasingly difficult to put up with run-of-the-mill poetry.

Fortunately enough, other poems in the collection continue to maintain this altitude.
Among them: « Burning Down the Camper » by Mark Jay Brewin, JR.

This poem is a miniature symphony, in which the abrasiveness of reality yields, in its final, to an opening, an aperture into what poets of a different era would call ‘the ineffable’ or ‘the sublime’.

Friday, December 18, 2009

Inunnguaq - A Poem


whispers of hidden waterfalls

a sleepy Inunnguaq shifts petals of granite specks
into my sight

seconds swim by – captives in an insect eye,
a rift of indecision, a calm bequeathed in off-white

I am at a  crossroad.
The Inunnguaq smiles, perched on the axis of its movement.

I’m trekking north towards the pole, without a compass, 
eye on the weathervane of lakes and forests swirling in the hail,
led by the shadow of the snow sphinx,

- an Inunnguaq.

Posted on  ->The Inukshuk

Saturday, December 12, 2009

Inukshuk - A Poem for Students and Children

                 A poem for students and children. 


I have heard you murmuring a story to the robin,
whistling it rather ,
among rustling maple leaves.

I have seen you shifting
the balance of your shoulders at dawn, 

when clouds move like small pebbles at the bottom of a creek,   
snaking out towards rivulets in the sky.  

I have felt your joy – your skin made of rock
caressed my palms through snow
and early morning mists crawling across the stillness of the lake.

Your faceless head rested over my shoulder
when you were sad.

We were once one and the same, my inukshuk friend.

Time has given us different shapes.
Cast in stone, you keep the roads safe.

Alive and restless, I write about your dreams.

Posted on  ->The Inukshuk

Sunday, December 06, 2009

A Dialogue in Poems

Simply wanted to note a short dialogue in poems that is taking place in French between the author of the website Loran - and me on the website

This dialogue, if you will, is a fencing exercise of a poetic nature and is something spontaneous. 

A lot of back and forth in poems.
Here are some of the poems I have written.

1.     L’Identit√© Algonquine  (the Algonquin Identity).

2.    Lampe d’Aladin (Aladdin's Lamp).
3.    Coup de canon (Canon ball) .

4.    Roture

  You can follow this dialogue in poems on Loran's website and on my web site

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