Wednesday, July 31, 2013

Volodymyr Bilyk - Infinite union of question marks

Farewell and thanks for all the contributors.

Mirek Bodnar 5

www.wordforword.info), along with the anthology “the last vispo anthology: visual poetry 1998-2008” (published by Fantographics in 2012).

Tuesday, July 30, 2013

Julia Stakhivska - poems and images you'll never know

And it's around time to make some of you tremble and others of you to become slightly irritated. Behold! Romantic poetry is coming just like "The Birds" is coming.

Vasyl Makhno - AVENIDA CERVANTES

Translated from the Ukrainian by Orest Popovych

almost in a straight line runs Avenida Cervantes
the smell of linen long stored in a closet
the cries of birds that fly with a cloud of dust
a dog with a lame leg
verses that hover in the air
- the voice of the departed Whitney -

rough walls - a gluey orange
from here you can't see the volcano Mumbacho
clattering buggies - into the horse's ears
flow the orchestras and the attire of February
and the carnival which can be heard around the corner
- all this will change nothing -

coffee is brewing and grains are roasting
the beer tastes like the coolness of a lake
in the evening again the readings before hundreds
again the street people will beg for money
the night paints lips and eyebrows
- of the river smells Bronwyn -

a blackened church - an aging Madonna
nearby they also opened a McDonald's
everywhere winter and provincial doldrums
young prostitutes cheapen the prices
midnight is guarded by the infantas of Inessa
- with their sultry whispers: beso -

a few butterflies having worn out their wings
also hurry to change their attire
settling down on a woman's black hair
like red flowers or a retinue
and it's not right to let go of the woman
who wants to frolic like a butterfly

an almost empty Avenida Cervantes
local people leave to pick oranges
others stand in line for the carnival
I stand by the wall thus expecting nothing
I don't belong here - I don't know where to stand
- there's no one even to ask -

I hurry because soon it will start
the first column will surge forward
death's statue with a scythe in thick woven cloth
a puppet spinning on a pole
the rustle of skirts over sweaty calves
- you scrutinize with wide-open eyes -

and the carnival finally did move
each beauty is holding a rose
dark musicians fly above the town
the sounds run over like rising dough
so with the dust cloud and the wormy sounds
- it's best for me to become a shoe -

Jonathan Kane

Jaap Blonk - Onbekendegracht & Gebed zonder End

Onbekendegracht lists most of the waters of Amsterdam.

The Onbekendegracht ("Unknown Canal") is a canal in Amsterdam, situated behind the 'Carré' Theatre.

In the recording of the list, the names are spoken with the word accent on the last part, unlike in normal Dutch pronunciation. This last part is usually that which indicates what type of water it is (eg. a canal, a harbour, a lake, a pond etc.).

Gebed zonder End is a listing of the small alleys of Amsterdam.

Gebed zonder End ("Prayer without End") is itself an alley in Amsterdam.

It's also a standard expression in the Dutch language, for something that's going to take forever, that will last far too long.

The Dutch word for alley, "steeg" is also the past tense singular of the verb "stijgen", "to rise". This gave me the idea for the continuously rising accompaniment in the recording, using Shepard tones.

Rudolfo Carrillo - Conditions Arising From the Failure of Postmodernism

Guido Utermark 3

John Bennett returns!

Ek Rzepka

Sunday, July 28, 2013

Patrick Playter Hartigan - The Ironic One

The ironic one, I lost his number,

a shuffling of clogs, taxi signals

before we could adjust - which has

nothing to do with work. Look, I’m

on a tight schedule. Language is a

record of the liquid setting. This

can be forced. Versus this sort of

“narrative” or “facts” we want, or

we make the appropriate noises. So

it’s contract day. I love how they

just kind of drop by with the look

the eyes like coins of the vending

machine of love. You do this again

Cory Peeke

Mama Baer

Sheri L. Wright

Karl Kempton - Breaking Code

Donna Kuhn - this field of beets is ripe and ready

Stephen Nelson

Felino A. Soriano

halo’s half-shine more so within a darkness of mediocre searching

you’ve heard a dusk

arrive amid innuendo’s

lack of social protocol, the

language of

dangling improper

fatigue

breaching day’s angled enunciation

finding softened fog near vocal demonstration, streaks

of psalms move into featured walls of handmade shelving

demonstrating

neoteric facsimiles and the irony of watching a hand

move into a history of unanswered faithful

fictions

and upon a looking

closely

combinational language-hybrid syllabic continuity

things, these

a wonder finds introspection as the device

causational forward into mimicking help

as the lean into pleasure folks inward and self is the warmth

already progressing

Friday, July 26, 2013

Jim Leftwich & John M. Bennett - another three

Gregory Vincent St. Thomasino

Beach Sloth - I'm OK

I’m OK

Pictures of water are wonderful
Whole worlds unexplored
Long ago they were closer
Advancement brings disconnected connection
Everybody knows
Nobody does
Jobs become abstractions
Food processed
Removal of impurities
Impurities there artificially
Cleaning up after ourselves
Trying to keep quiet
Shifting from one foot
To the other
At a concert
Alone
Volume is too loud
Lyrics incoherent
Stare at their shoes
They call it a movement
They wanted to call it navel gazing
That was already taken
Long before the disconnected connections
Missed connections
It is our own damn fault
Pay attention
Head up
Further up
A dream of mine is to be the sky

Thursday, July 25, 2013

Guido Utermark 5

fátima ausente

Michael Orr

Karl Kempton

Matt Taggart

Wednesday, July 24, 2013

Mirek Bodnar 4

Viktor Neborak

Nick Zedd 4 MAGOG

Tuesday, July 23, 2013

Complaint corn paint

This is the totem that personifies Yury Tarnawsky who declined to send some of his recent poems for the reason unknown.

Vasyl Makhno - RETURNING TO GRANADA

To Bronwyn Lea

On the Plaza de la Independencia - Bronwyn
warm air has filled our lungs
the only way out - is to inhale some more
the taste of tangerine - tongue between the teeth
all that will remain between us
is the time in this poem

Bronwyn - here time exists in the voices of revolutions
later these streets will be named after them
later the ladies of the night for three bucks
later the bands trumpeting halfway through the night
and there is so little time
to talk with you about poetry

Bronwyn - toss a sentavo into the fountain
perhaps we'll return here - it's like a security deposit
this street urchin who's fooling and hassling us
knows that all of this life is transitory
for this you don't even have to be a prophet
nor a poet

Bronwyn - let's follow the carnival
why should we hide - we've stolen nothing
in a town where they trade in love
anything can happen - so many people
the streets are pressing heavily upon us - this draft
of words that I share with you

Bronwyn - you say it's impossible
we won't come here - only torrents will come
- like scabby dogs in green attire -
they'll detect our trail fading in the sky
they will seize this thread - these February verses
those that belong to us both

Bronwyn - if I arrive together with the dogs
try to wait for me somewhere between the years
wait at the Alhambra - I know the way
I know this place - these walls and the terrace
the horses and buggies on de la Plaza
the red streamers - rojo -

Bronwyn - the locals know us by sight
maybe above the table there will be a name plate
here they love poets even after death
I am staring at the starlit sky
by now you are flying up to Australia
it's a good thing we are mortals after all

Translated by Orest Popovych