PoetryRepairShop 06.02:021

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poetryrepairshop 06.02:021

JASON FRALEY Note to the Summer Sun on a Winter Morning
You whispered secrets to prairie grass as I tried to sleep, garrulous tongue telling long-winded stories like a grandfather on a rocking chair. Recalling a creaking porch swing, I threw off the covers, wiped winter from my forehead, warmth reminiscent of my dream that you invited the sun to sleep with the moonlit night.

Copyright 2006, all rights revert to the poet.
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JASON FRALEY's interests and inspiration include music, nature, philosophy, and contemporary poetry. An oversized Pez collection also plays an important role in his days. FRALEY's poetry has appeared in The Copperfield Review, The Sidewalk's End, Lunatic Chameleon

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poetryrepairshop 06.02:021

MICHELLE M. TOKARCYZK Four Ways of Looking at Creativity
I Creativity is a habit Like watching the morning flakes Dunked into milk, waiting to sog II Creativity is the morning Pain digging at the stomach you grasp Doubled, afraid to let it go. But you do, you do get out of bed. Every day. III Creativity is a couch Your legs wrapped under you The remote clicked off The apartment emptied, almost Of even street sound You pick up a pen to fill the space IV Creativity is a picture Forgotten in a stack of papers Until you shuffle through See what's in your hand. He and his dog stare in the same direction He contemplates what the dog accepts His t-shirt commands “read books, not t-shirts” He stares past the camera's eye. The t-shirt, the dog, stare through his urn of ashes Waiting to be scattered.

Copyright 2006, all rights revert to the poet. _

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poetryrepairshop 06.01:021

Along with more piercing poetry from MICHELLE M. TOKARCYZK, PoetryRepairShop 06.04 will feature a dozen East European poets and their guests.

I have taken a broad look at what it means to be 'East European' - those who have returned to the 'old country', the emigres, the second wave children of immigrants, and those who have roots further behind than the old iron curtain. Escape/escvapism takes on new meaning for these poets.

NAN HUNT, MARK SABA, CHRISTINA PACOSZ, EILEEN MYLES, WILLIAM DORESKI, VIRGILIO GIOTTI, J.S. BEISCH and others The poets are remarkably similar either because they sang to my own Hungarian American heart or because we share a context . Call it a genetics of ethnicity. Less scientific and more personal; a friendship shared and suddenly abandoned; each and all of us Judas or Peter.

You'll find poetry from strikingly dissimilar backgrounds - Czech, Polish, Greek, Ukrainea, Romanian, Russian and more - that are nonetheless related in the ability to tell one's own story as history. It is perhaps a species of African American 'call and response' between the individual and the group. But, in East European poetry, it is more 'call and echo'; the yodeller in the mountains of emptied villages hears only an echo. The pain isn't that of being enslaved in America but enslaved to American Anglocentrism - not so much a melting pot as it is tarring over differences - and someone close has voluntarily accepted it for you - father, grandfather, or yourself. - JH PRSeditor

And you will find poets glorying in their unique experience, heritage, possibilities. I think it's one of the best issues of PoetryRepairShop.

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