Bipolar Sunday
Red Hot Chili peppers strumming
through the ceiling as my upstairs
neighbor plays his fuzzy electric
guitar. Weird phrases
keep falling from my fingertips
and I rise, a baby phoenix,
from the fire and ice of manic
depression, crazed and alone.
Sometimes it feels like
peacock tails and dusty tumbleweeds.
The pace revved up inside
my well-greased and dripping brain.
Captivated by a sparkle or
brought low by an unkind word,
I turn slowly,
a broken-winged angel,
towards the musical face of the sun.
Kallima Hamilton's worked as an assistant museum librarian, ESL instructor and legal clerk. Her poetry has appeared in Mudlark, Sugar Mule and Shenandoah.
Friday, February 24, 2012
Thursday, February 23, 2012
Austin McCarron
The Indispensible Guide to Unearthly Practices
After a universe of time,
spring is a shock to my eyes:
the promise
of light in a chimney of air.
On hills or near gardens, baby
lambs offer kisses of new blood.
Beautiful animals glide on
colours and draw blinds of sound.
There is a gift of water, like breath
in open veins,
but leaves of skin gather like food
of inconsolable factories
around plants and trees and lawns.
Looking ahead I throw away the
blanket of its extraordinary aim but
it is not higher within, where graves
fester like flies around sweating pits.
The sun of fire returns a blaze but its
inner light is forked. In spiritual
green the doctors of spent deliveries
appear in shining
boots to unravel traces of the dead.
Roots of demonic earth I fail to revive.
I see into the mirror of its eyes and find
nothing but still
like worms in hair its silence is a word.
After a universe of time,
spring is a shock to my eyes:
the promise
of light in a chimney of air.
On hills or near gardens, baby
lambs offer kisses of new blood.
Beautiful animals glide on
colours and draw blinds of sound.
There is a gift of water, like breath
in open veins,
but leaves of skin gather like food
of inconsolable factories
around plants and trees and lawns.
Looking ahead I throw away the
blanket of its extraordinary aim but
it is not higher within, where graves
fester like flies around sweating pits.
The sun of fire returns a blaze but its
inner light is forked. In spiritual
green the doctors of spent deliveries
appear in shining
boots to unravel traces of the dead.
Roots of demonic earth I fail to revive.
I see into the mirror of its eyes and find
nothing but still
like worms in hair its silence is a word.
Wednesday, February 08, 2012
Tatjana Debeljački
Japanese Mountaineer
Filled up with lust
to quench my thirst,
shocked through the rays
of the tired sun.
Revived by the breath.
Ignited, you wake me up,
you kindle during my sleep
the last signs
of recognition.
Every ground letter
You bring back written
In all languages
In the dark lair.
Smudge again
The colors across the dead
whiteness of the night, smash the dawn
before the sun.
From the night, the flowers bloom
And the morning is glittering in the horizon,
Under the veil of the morning.
The eyes of the mountaineer,
The light of the sun
Japanese mountaineer
naked in the moonlight.
Tatjana Debeljački was born on 23.04.1967 in Užice. Writes poetry, short stories, stories and haiku. Member of Association of Writers of Serbia -UKS since 2004 and Haiku Society of Serbia - HDS Serbia, HUSCG – Montenegro and HDPR, Croatia. A member of Writers’ Association Poeta, Belgrade since 2008, HKD Croatia since 2009 and a member of Poetry Society "Antun Ivanošić" Osijek since 2011. Deputy of the main editor (cooperation with magazines & interviews).
http://diogen.weebly.com/redakcijaeditorial-board.html
Editor of the magazine "Poeta", published by Writers’ Association "Poeta"
http://www.poetabg.com/
Union of Yugoslav Writers in Homeland and Immigration – Belgrade, Literary Club Yesenin – Belgrade. Up to now, she has published four collections of poetry: “A HOUSE MADE OF GLASS “, published by ART – Užice in 1996; collection of poems “YOURS“, published by Narodna knjiga Belgrade in 2003; collection of haiku poetry “VOLCANO”, published by Lotos from Valjevo in 2004. A CD book “A HOUSE MADE OF GLASS” published by ART in 2005, bilingual SR-EN with music, AH-EH-IH-OH-UH, published by Poeta, Belgrade in 2008. Her poetry and haiku have been translated into several languages. Email/Websites/Blogs http://debeljacki.mojblog.rs/
Filled up with lust
to quench my thirst,
shocked through the rays
of the tired sun.
Revived by the breath.
Ignited, you wake me up,
you kindle during my sleep
the last signs
of recognition.
Every ground letter
You bring back written
In all languages
In the dark lair.
Smudge again
The colors across the dead
whiteness of the night, smash the dawn
before the sun.
From the night, the flowers bloom
And the morning is glittering in the horizon,
Under the veil of the morning.
The eyes of the mountaineer,
The light of the sun
Japanese mountaineer
naked in the moonlight.
Tatjana Debeljački was born on 23.04.1967 in Užice. Writes poetry, short stories, stories and haiku. Member of Association of Writers of Serbia -UKS since 2004 and Haiku Society of Serbia - HDS Serbia, HUSCG – Montenegro and HDPR, Croatia. A member of Writers’ Association Poeta, Belgrade since 2008, HKD Croatia since 2009 and a member of Poetry Society "Antun Ivanošić" Osijek since 2011. Deputy of the main editor (cooperation with magazines & interviews).
http://diogen.weebly.com/redakcijaeditorial-board.html
Editor of the magazine "Poeta", published by Writers’ Association "Poeta"
http://www.poetabg.com/
Union of Yugoslav Writers in Homeland and Immigration – Belgrade, Literary Club Yesenin – Belgrade. Up to now, she has published four collections of poetry: “A HOUSE MADE OF GLASS “, published by ART – Užice in 1996; collection of poems “YOURS“, published by Narodna knjiga Belgrade in 2003; collection of haiku poetry “VOLCANO”, published by Lotos from Valjevo in 2004. A CD book “A HOUSE MADE OF GLASS” published by ART in 2005, bilingual SR-EN with music, AH-EH-IH-OH-UH, published by Poeta, Belgrade in 2008. Her poetry and haiku have been translated into several languages. Email/Websites/Blogs http://debeljacki.mojblog.rs/