Art, Huguette Bertrand, Immagine & Poesia, Lidia Chiarelli, Poetry, Yesim Agaoglu

Poems over the city- Tarık Günersel’s comment

photo-cover-2 (1)

Read it on ISSUU:

https://issuu.com/home/published/_ehrin_poesie_po_mes__

     Tarık Günersel’s critical comment:
     Şiir Bahçesi
     … bu federal kitap. Zarif, yoğun, yalın şiirler. Görsel eşliklerle. Üç kadın Dünyadaş (Earthmates) baş başa vermiş, bizi çağırıyor. Göğe bakıyorum: bu şiirlerle donanmış.
     Bu şölen sayısız okura, hayal kurucuya ulaşır umarım.  İtalya, Kanada ve Türkiye’ye ek olarak her yerde, belki özellikle Japonya’da; birçok şiir haiku tadında.
     Sağ olun, Sevgili Şairler ve bu projenin gerçekleşmesini Sağlayan Herkes.
___________________________
     A Garden of Poems
     A federal book. Elegant, intense, and plain poems. Accompanied by visuals. Three female Earthmates have got together -inviting us. Now I’m looking into the sky: It’s richly decorated with poems.
     This feast could and should reach so many readers, imaginers. Everywhere, especially in Japan -in addition to Canada, Italy and Turkey; as some of the poems taste like haiku.
     Thank you, Dear Poets and All of You who have contributed to the realisation of this project.
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Art, Immagine & Poesia, Poetry

“WHERE I CAME FROM” poem and image by Timileyin Gabriel Olajuwon, Nigeria

WHERE I CAME FROM

This is a song on the lips of gods…

Since gods are spirits,
where do gods live? – you may ask;
gods live in the desert of milk
of honey set in between dry bamboos,
they house in a cave of public streets
of living dead – wrenched of the earth,
they hide in the rusty land of gold
of flowing streams set on swollen faces,
they live in the mind of riches and
the thought of life’s tussle.

gods live in the body
In the memories of our being;
of war, pains, smile and joy,
they live in the red wine of our broken bones
and in the seasoned smile of broken promises
(Epistle of lies);
gods live in the pit of unknown pity
on the vast field of greenish grains.

this song reminds me of
the tears of my mother,
the pains of my father,
the plights of my brothers,
and the “dryness” of my sisters…
it reminds me of silence
in the memory of where I came from!

@ Timileyin Gabriel Olajuwon 2017

unnamed

Art, Poetry

“BENGALI INTERNATIONAL POETRY FESTIVAL” POETS HOUSE – April 11 2015

BENGALI COVERCover art by Carolyn Mary Kleefeld

Shabdaguchha

in cooperation with

Cross-Cultural Communications

presents

BENGALI INTERNATIONAL POETRY FESTIVAL”

POETS HOUSE

10 River Terrace, NYC 10282

Tel: 212/431-7920

SATURDAY, APRIL 11, 2:00-5:30 PM

hosted by

Hassanal Abdullah & Stanley H. Barkan

includes

special reading of Hassanal Abdullah’s new forthcoming book

UNDER THE THIN LAYERS OF LIGHT

(Cross-Cultural Communications, 2015)

Dedicated to Bangladesh-born US citizen, Freethinker, and Founder of mukto-mona.com

AVIJIT ROY (1972–2015)

murdered by Islamic fundamentalists after attending the book fair in Dhaka, February, 2015

multilingual reading

special featured poet from Wales

PETER THABIT JONES

FUAD ATTAL (Arabic) * FARUQUE AZAM (Bengali) * HONG AI BAI (Chinese, Korean)

PURABI BASU (Bengali) * SULTAN CATTO (Turkish) * MIA BARKAN CLARKE (English)

JYOTIMOY DATTA (Bengali) * JYOTIPRAKASH DATTA (Bengali) * MINAKSHI DATTA (Bengali)

JOAN DIGBY (English) * JOHN DIGBY (English) * CHARLES FISHMAN (English)

MIKE GRAVES (English) * SANG-HEE KWAK (Korean) * NINO PROVENZANO (Italian, Sicilian)

MINDY RINKEWICH (Polish, Russian, Yiddish) * NAZNIN SEAMON (Bengali)

VANTZETI VASSILEV (Bulgarian), * BISSERA VIDENOV (Bulgarian)

also

Book and Art & Photography Exhibit

Gianpiero Actis, Helen Bar-Lev, Lidia Chiarelli, Adel Gorgy, Carolyn Mary Kleefeld, Mark Polyakov, Marsha Solomon

Refreshments / Free – Donations welcome

Made Possible in Part through Poets House’s Literary Partner’s Program”

Immagine & Poesia, Poetry

“Swan Song” by Miriam Margala and Deron Zambruno, USA

swan 1

 

Swan Song

Their swan song rang out from the start…

Slowly, patiently,

Enticing with sweet words

He conducts the feverish symphony

His golden baton laden with honey

Luring the graceful swan

Who until then had been drifting

Lost in her own music,

In her own pond – her own world

Of melody and peace.

But the conductor wields his slathered baton

The swan song rings true.

The harmony is pleasing, unceasing

Like a siren – a male siren

Calling out to her, the swan

With the supple curve of her long neck,

Proud in her domain

In her beloved realm,

Shifting the smooth surface of her pond

The calm waters of trust and satisfaction

Storms and wild swells she must navigate now

But the music promises secrets uncharted

Untasted pleasures to partake in

The conductor – inscrutable and wise,

Sings his song and insists, comforts

The swan’s every qualm and question.

The maestro wields his glistening baton

The swan song resonates.

The waves lull her

The song seduces her

Never mind the churning waters

Or his smile scored on empty bars.

The time comes for the swan to hold the baton

The time comes for the swan to taste the sweet nectar.

She forgets that honey is thicker than water

Greedily – she’s drunk all that he has offered

Luscious. Sensuous. Sultry. Succulent.

Every drop – a hot wax seal

Suffocating but so very tempting.

Unknowingly, the swan has started to sink

And the music has begun to lose its sweetness –

The baton so fierce and final without the honey

Still, the swan song carries.

Too close to the depths now

Sinking deeper – she looks for their silhouette

But the swan can see only the shadow of herself,

In panic she searches – but he cannot be found

The meter, the melody – a relentless refrain

She cries for calm waters

For peace, tranquility and solitude

And the world she once knew.

The swan song recedes

The conductor is gone.

The quiet dreadful and heavy

The once-flowing honey now all consumed.

Who has been the siren?

Who has been the listener?

What has been gained?

What has been lost?

The music has stopped.

Miriam Margala

Deron Zambruno

USA