CAROL SHILLIBEER : Ethnopoetics
ANNE M. HUDSON : Discovering the Wreckage
JOHN SELAWSKY : If We Could Devise a Way to Continue
POETRYREPAIRS v12.09:098
contemporary international poetry - for your reading pleasure,
poetry from new and established poets and essays on writing


All the fine arts are species of poetry--Samuel Taylor Coleridge




for mature audience over 18 BACK
Ethnopoetics Discovering the Wreckage If We Could Devise a Way to Continue
 
POETRY requires a mature audience ENTER only if you are 18+ under 18? klik here

CAROL SHILLIBEER
Ethnopoetics
tracks the mind that still wanders out of ways customary and lingers at the gate to see past the tree with iridescent leaves--their edges black- shadowing the stone wall that folds in against the forest. The gate is broken, and past there are boles that lead up hill beyond the plums, stately orchard's prize, now feral and beyond enclosure. There is a choice to go, to track, but wild wood points light's growth, and windy shadows quicken, constellating glyphs on the road. Found out there— irregular pleasures perhap, but still fine compositions; margins marked by track, deer, and columns scribed in native trunks. A choice, but making such a passage, finding, miles on, a viridian ceasura in which a lone tree branches fruiting dark nuts, seems as inevitable as protean syntax.
POETRYREPAIRS 12.09:098
link to poetryrepairs
I have many things to write unto you but   I will not write with pen and ink
--JOHN the theologian



Register YourName.WS Now!

FIND home

Ethnopoetics Discovering the Wreckage If We Could Devise a Way to Continue
 
POETRY requires a mature audience ENTER only if you are 18+ under 18? klik here

ANNE M. HUDSON
Discovering the Wreckage
I stand before the mirror carefully removing the shards, the slivers, of broken mirror, the mirror which, years ago, twenty-five years ago to be exact, shattered overhead and rained down fragments on my face and hands. Most cruelly, some entered and remained lodged in my heart. My heart. What a sight that was, all the fractured faces and reflections of me glinting sky and light in their free fall towards me in a startled pose, hands held up to my face for protection. The reflection of the sun's direct rays in a mirror can be blinding; I'd learned that as a child, but the breakage occurred suddenly, and it was hard to remember this in time. So here I stand removing shards from the wreckage long hidden from sight. About twenty years ago needles of glass were tweezed from my face; there's barely a mark from them today. It's this heart of mine, this lacerated heart, that has to heal now.
POETRYREPAIRS 12.09: 098
Poetry endangers the established order  of the soul - Plato





guidelines INDEX
Ethnopoetics Discovering the Wreckage If We Could Devise a Way to Continue  
POETRY requires a mature audience ENTER only if you are 18+ under 18? klik here

JOHN SELAWSKY
If We Could Devise a Way to Continue
"suffer the anguish of almost but never quite knowing..." - José Saramago
If someone could say this, they could say anything. Many times. In languages that are now long defunct, unheard, unspoken. By tongues that have returned to the stones of the earth. By time¹s messengers, by the reason of our own unreasonable existence. And yet there is the rare heavy rain in May and the next day following that glistens with sunlight and water. Even the farmers tense and waiting and repeatedly glancing up. Trying to understand. The fire thus not extinguished but replenished. There are the white clouds that signify the other, now moving there, toward them. There are the dark bones which circle their fields. And the blue as of yet moonless sky, like the flame again, or the ash, though that too will change, it must, afterall, since we know it is in fact there but only for the moment hidden. Is it faith or knowledge that permits its return? This is like the man who has waited so long for love and who suddenly sees a woman¹s face far across a room, thinking perhaps it is possible, trying hard to believe. Unable to form her name aloud nor reach nor touch her yet certain that he has seen it written once for each day of his life and already knows it.
POETRYREPAIRS 12.09: 098
Seasonal 468x60
CAROL SHILLIBEER : Ethnopoetics
ANNE M. HUDSON : Discovering the Wreckage
JOHN SELAWSKY : If We Could Devise a Way to Continue
free counters NAVIGATION for mature audience over 18
BACK | comments + feedback on FACEBOOK | FIND| guidelines | home INDEX | LinkedIn® professional networking services |

submit editor@[sitename]
<

poetryrepairs prefers PayPal


Not a state organ: POETRYREPAIRS accepts no monies from federal, state, or local governments. We relie on readers like you.
Please contribute to maintain POETRYREPAIRS. DONATE