ROB GANSON : The Last Sybil
JIM BORING : Two Girls
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

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Rob Ganson, a Wisconsin poet, has published three volumes of poetry, Float Like a Butterfly, Sing Like a Tree, Follow the Clear River Down, and A Storm of Horses
The Last Sybil Two Girls Espresso  

The Last Sybil
   pushes a shopping cart past the revelers down to the peninsular stone and nations, eons of portent storm over the sea   she is not, and is at once but thunder, white noise and vile shrieks alight in the west-wind's grasp   she has no need of time, yours, hers, mine and moments parade by like centuries or morsels of evolution twice seen, shouted in tongues to yesteryear's darkest storms   an unruly and boundless poet listens to what mustn't be heard sure that within the prophesies of chaos and military gods hopeful incantations must hum, sing like the string of some holy cello   but it is only the echo of his broken soul
I have many things to write unto you but   I will not write with pen and ink
--JOHN the theologian

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The Last Sybil Two Girls Espresso  

Two Girls
The road back is narrow and dark in the trees Bends back and forth rocking the cradle car Then breaks into light and pasture and corn And the little Evangelical Friendship Church Tonight featuring A Cruise on the Amazon Outside beyond the parked cars In the pink light of the evening sun Two long-legged girls in shorts Clamber on the big boulder that Marks this Midwest outpost of Plymouth The girls have the gawk and grace of adolescence Given to them and to me as a gift by their friendly evangelical god A gift unearned placed there on the boulder In the pink light shining on their legs as they pose On the rock of their faith and their promise Their long shadows point east Toward some far potential yet to rise Past the glowing corn and the sweet grass Where the crickets trill and the sun now sets.
Poetry endangers the established order  of the soul - Plato

guidelines INDEX

The Last Sybil Two Girls Espresso  

I spent the morning with a poet who was as moody as the changing weather - like a sudden summer storm, like snow in Jerusalem. His words, at times, were as bitter like the espresso he sipped like a fine wine to be savored and savored; Yet, no matter how much he relished each mouthful, he drank until he was jittery, and his voice shook. He held out his trembling hands , and said, ”Good poetry should be like this – enjoyed over and over - and too much is never enough.” He sipped another cup of espresso, which I declined, But, I drank in every drop of his poetry. copyright AURORA ANTONOVIC
ROB GANSON : The Last Sybil
JIM BORING : Two Girls

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