fromSOMETIMES THINGS SEEM VERY DARK: POEMS FOR FRANCESCA WOODMAN
22. [Untitled New York 1979-80]
The eye-cloth & the death-cloth & the cloth of this knowing      rent      mended by the same scissor that chimes the dead angles      the human geometry
wheel of torsos      visor      slits of the armored dusk where the eye      glides who holds the key to this (rib)cage?
not the furrows      of the brow      or the mirror of the lake
Say I could be happy on the first warm day of spring wearing a new leather jacket, or eating leaf-colored gelato in Nafplio. Say I am happiest when I am furthest from home. A word that you would not speak. Our bodies are our homes. I am no longer welcome there. I don't want anyone to get the wrong idea. Say someone has the wrong idea. Say whenever anyone has the wrong idea, a fluttering silver fish dies.
30. [Sloan Providence, Rhode Island 1976]
Not to know the terror of the noonday city:          the sun that is          a stain on the wall
marred tapestry      of the idle in the      interrogation
of the hourglass
the spyglass      the glass eye of the recorder
image lifted like      rice      paper
from the affront of this          this breathing          in strange places
this laurel wreath      of strangers          drags the oracle
by the mane
the fishes' eggs without number      the city's mouths          without number we must count all the berries          on the wreath          to enter
with no use for us
31. [Untitled Providence, Rhode Island, 1978]
In the noontime I sewed the spine
I broke the pastel crayon      at the seam
The book written &          the book sewn
with the sliver of bone      with the thimble of blood
with the eyes shut tight      against the semblance
in the wall the semblance that walks the hall from where I have departed
to not be called back to where the books seem
to be speaking      to the air
to you      to me
to the narrow seam      inbetween
Mark Lamoureux: My work has appeared or is forthcoming in such places as The Denver Quarterly, Fence, Conduit, GutCult, Coconut and other print and on-line journals. My first book, Astrometry Organon, is due to be published by Spuyten Duyvil/Meeting Eyes Bindery in 2007. I teach English at Kingsborough Community College, and run Cy Gist Press, a micropress focusing on ekphrastic poetry.
“A Small Parenthesis in Eternity”      Sir Thomas Browne
The morning came like a faded photograph sucking the color out of the trees. Everything lost its motion except a woman moving through the gray. She remembered the child in a story where everything stopped– the filcher, the raker the candystick maker fixed like statues around the square so that the child could slide among them restoring what had been lost, the coin to the old lady’s wallet, the red leaf to the oak, the forgotten oil to the peppermint. And the woman wondered whether such stillness was a common curse or a cheaper blessing, what should she lift from this moment when the world’s heavy commerce seemed suspended, no gravity, the letter unopened on her desk, the baseball inches from her son’s glove, her husband’s car still on the road while the steel whistle fluted on as if breath were endless. Then a raindrop fell and that was it– a sycamore shivered, a mosquito lifted from his larva, a window opened, the woman resumed her life in a moving world, no longer able to readjust where she had been.
Lois Marie Harrod's chapbook Firmament is forthcoming from Finishing Line Press. Her Put Your Sorry Side Out was published by Concrete Wolf in 2005, and she won a 2003 poetry fellowship, her third, from the New Jersey Council on the Arts. Her sixth book of poetry Spelling the World Backward (2000) was published by Palanquin Press, University of South Carolina Aiken, which also published her chapbook This Is a Story You Already Know (l999) and her book Part of the Deeper Sea(l997). Over 300 of her poems have appeared in journals including American Poetry Review, Blueline, The MacGuffin, Salt, The Literary Review, Zone3. Her earlier publications include the books Every Twinge a Verdict (Belle Mead Press, l987), Crazy Alice (Belle Mead Press, l991) and a chapbook Green Snake Riding (New Spirit Press, l994).
Cigarettes....a dull perfume! And pills and wine ...to populate that tomb of mine.
Drakul slumbered in his box in ages when the Sun shown pure and spread his wings to fire the night to drink blood in eternity
...now...mornings pulling up my socks a thousand years beyond the stake which slew that nightly terror there and let the darkened hours endure with little more than ghostly crimes
leave daylight more the kin to Hell with wretched voices in my head making blood a sour thing ...muddy, muggy, slow as lead! An evil daytime...speckled white. That pus, those boils, sick voices ate ...oozing from a broken brain whose jaundice is mortality.
The vampires, in these modern times, have no names nor nobility but seek a sunlight more obscure than any haunting terror's dark
and in the office or the park hypnotized by cold TVs communicate their blasphemies in ways that half the brain denies
and sink their teeth in like a shark yet leave no elemental mark except that madness trembles
till their broken victims finally choose with booze and pills and cigarettes in dimly viewed electric light to leave the voices to their cause ...each ego to that ego's debts and terminate the light of day and stay awake at night....
Sam Silva has published well over 150 poems in print magazines including, but not limited to Samisdat, The ECU Rebel, Sow's Ear, The American Muse, St. Andrews Review, Dog River Review, Third Lung Review, Main St. Rag, Charlotte Poetry Review, Parnasus...most (but not all) of these magazines are now defunct. For the Past four years his magazine portfolio has grown by and large on line including Rio Del Arts, Megaera, Big Bridge, Views unplugged, Comrade Magazine, Ken Again and at least thirty others. Over the years four small presses have published a total of nine chapbooks by Sam Silva ...these, being Third Lung Press, M.A.F. Press, Alpha Beat Press, Trouth Creek Press. Brown and Yale Universities solicited many of these chapbooks for their libraries. These chapbooks were well received in newspaper reviews by Shelby Stephenson, Ron Bayes, Steve Smith, and the late poet laureate of North Carolina Sam Ragan. Silva has ebooks available without cost at Physikgarden.com, and Independantbook.com, and at two dollars a piece at readsamsilva.com and well over 300 poems archived in online magazines. He was nominated a total of seven times by three small presses and has a full length collection of poetry called Eating and Drinking based on a royalties contract signed with Bright Spark Creative available for order at any online bookstore and has two other full length poetry books available at http://www.lulu.com . Three spoken word CDs of Sam Silva's have been marketed through CDBaby.
The kid thought invisible              walking no man’s land              behind the houses lining Capen St.              through  the woods – not real woods              scattering of thin trees and underbrush. The kid thought journey              path from one backyard              behind others to dead end dirt road. Kid walked this trail              not sidewalk – not in sight of              all those curtained windows to friend’s house              the younger kid              whose parent’s wonder why              fourth grader plays with second              wonders what’s wrong with this kid. It’s the little house, the kid likes,              on the dead-end – besides the over grown field. The kid lives in an apartment in a house of six              apartments      dreams of living in a house                           no sounds of doors opening                           slamming shut          no sounds                           of footsteps up stairs down                           voices behind the walls. The kid wants green and sky outside the windows              not brickwall back of market              gravel driveway cuts between              cars crunch crunch outside the kid’s window Kid wants air to breathe
Eve Rifkah is editor of the literary journal Diner and co-founder of Poetry Oasis, Inc., a non-profit poetry association dedicated to education, promoting local poets and publishing Diner. Poems have or will appear in Bellevue Literary Review, The MacGuffin, 5 AM, Parthenon West, newversenews.com, poetrymagazine.com, Chaffin Journal, Porcupine Press, The Worcester Review, California Quarterly, ReDactions, Jabberwock Review, Southern New Hampshire Literary Journal and translated into Braille. Her chapbook At the Leprosarium won the 2003 Revelever chapbook contest. At this time she is a professor of English at Worcester and Fitchburg, State Colleges and a workshop instructor. She received her MFA in Writing from Vermont College and lives with her husband, poet Michael Milligan.
Christopher Barnes: In 1998 I won a Northern Arts writers award. In July 200 I read at Waterstones bookshop to promote the anthology 'Titles Are Bitches'. Christmas 2001 I debuted at Newcastle's famous Morden Tower doing a reading of my poems. Each year I read for Proudwords lesbian and gay writing festival and I partake in workshops. 2005 saw the publication of my collection Lovebites published by Chanticleer Press, 6/1 Jamaica Mews, Edinburgh.
On Saturday 16th Aughst 2003 I read at theEdinburgh Festival as a Per Verse poet at LGBT Centre, Broughton St.
Christmas 2001 The Northern Cultural Skills Partnership sponsored me to be mentored by Andy Croft in conjunction with New Writing North. I made a radio programme for Web FM community radio about my writing group. October-November 2005, I entered a poem/visual image into the art exhibition The Art Cafe Project, his piece Post-Mark was shown in Betty's Newcastle. This event was sponsored by Pride On The Tyne. I made a digital film with artists Kate Sweeney and Julie Ballands at a film making workshop called Out Of The Picture which was shown at the festival party for Proudwords. The film is going into an archive at The Discovery Museum in Newcastle and contains my poem The Old Heave-Ho. I worked on a collaborative art and literature project called How Gay Are Your Genes, facilitated by Lisa Mathews (poet) which exhibited at The Hatton Gallery, Newcastle University before touring the country and it is expected to go abroad, funded by The Policy, Ethics and Life Sciences Research Institute, Bioscience Centre at Newcastle's Centre for Life. I was involved in the Five Arts Cities poetry postcard event which exhibited at The Seven Stories children's literature building. In May I had 2006 a solo art/poetry exhibition at The People's Theatre why not take a look at their website
The South Bank Centre in London recorded my poem "The Holiday I Never Had", I can be heard reading it here
Wagon wheels Press the soil Like fingers on clay Molding a path As the coal man And his horse Find the driveway.
A Santa bag, Scared by use Is hauled rudely Like homeless bones As the canvas sheath Bulges wildly with Bituminous jewels.
A leather cap Appears pasted To his thick head While a cigarette Fades at the corner Of a tired mouth, While walking heavy.
Arms muscled wide Stretch easily Like crawling vines On a fence Broadly reaching Owning the space Without restriction.
Bits of blackened Coal tumble Into a waiting bin Sounding like Angry rattlesnakes, As the horse looks And the man coughs.
Roger Singer: I began writing poetry when I was in the military many years ago, for relaxation and to express my thoughts in an abstract form. I enjoy the challenge poetry offers, unlike the articles I have written, which are straight forward. Poetry allows the writer to step to the side from general thoughts, thus creating a miniature story which in and of itself can bifurcate into other levels of literary form.
once the trees seemed to know their meanings for me, and have chosen them themselves
but now we are madmen and have chosen that madness and we live behind walls where demons share the sunlight with us as it records a day dying gratefully on the floor
the trees have forgotten everything and mate mindlessly promiscuous, selling their virtue to the wind and birds that pimp for them,
and we are mad as the blood that remembers our passing: we just love it and want it, whatever happens
David McLean has been submitting for the past year and has had about 300 poems accepted by 129 magazines and webzines. A chapbook a hunger for mourning with 53 of his poems has just been released by Erbacce Press. It is available for purchase and download at Lulu.com. He has a blog at http://mourningabortion.blogspot.com