thanks and bye (for now)

a blogster named Hal drives a Truck

did ask me to try my own luck

at finding some poemers

who'd ride in October --

now over, I'll get off and walk ..

thanks to Hal and to all the poets who joined this past October's ride ...

-- maxianne 

Steve Luxton: Night of the Quebec Referendum, 1995

NIGHT OF THE QUEBEC REFERENDUM, 1995  


There’s a riot scene at the Jean Talon Macdonald’s.
With most customers at home glued to vote returns,
The idle burger-gals yadder,
Rhapsodize about downtown dress and shoe shops,
Argue over who in Hollywood’s “hot”,
As, converged there on the off-night,
Their boyfriends whoop and cavort.

The only old guy here is me
Straining to hear the results on the ceiling corner TV.
Junior gangstas obstruct curious citizenry.
Too bad.

After one more dancer rocks my booth,
I give up repeatedly pointing at the screen,
Cup my ears,
When, nearby, a young waitress pulls
A lad onto her lap.

Waving a big french fry at his mouth,
She croons whether his
Other “momma” is as sweet.

“Let go!” he replies, grabbing it
And shoving it down her considerable cleavage.

–The Young, at fry-heat....
In such conditions, trying to follow Politics
Is the art of the impossible.

The TV suddenly goes blank,
The restaurant lights flicker.
Closing Time.
The young revelers begin leaving.
“Damn it!” I shout. “Who won?”
   
“What?!” A sparkly-nailed girl says
Near the exit.
“The referendum! Who won?”

“Who cares!” she shrugs with a
D’you-live-in-a-museum? look.
Steps out just as
High over Montreal’s north-end,
A single bottle-rocket rises
Trailing forking, gilt glitters.
–A victory sign! But whose?

Lithely sidling past me, her lothario shouts–
“Hey, girl! Looks like
A party’s goin’ on!
You coming?”
Then like a virtuoso he
Break-dances out.

Born in Coventry, England, Steve Luxton has published five collections of poetry, most recently In the Vision of Birds: New and Selected Poems. His work has appeared widely in literary journals such as Canadian Forum, Canadian Literature, Fiddlehead, Sidestreet, and Jacket (Australia), and in Next Teller: A Book of Canadian Storytelling. The former co-owner and editor of DC books, he was one of the original editors of Matrix magazine and The Moosehead Review, and one of the founders of the now defunct Montreal Storytellers, an oral storytelling group which performed in both Canada and the U.S. Before retiring and moving to the Eastern Townships of Quebec, he taught English Literature at John Abbott College and Creative Writing at Concordia University. Luxton is presently working on a collection of poems with a political dimension.

Mike Montreuil and Maxianne Berger: Five Co-Written Tanka

Some years back, over the course of a few months, Mike Montreuil and I co-wrote some tanka. We traded prompts -- two-to-three very brief lines that were not cast in stone, but served, rather, as malleable ideas. For the five below, I’ve provided the prompt alongside the poem for those who might be interested.   mb

fading ink
all about the trenches
the smell of mud
reading between the lines
love kept grandpa warm

to read in between
the lines

sugared almonds
my mother's cookbook
opening up
that sweet crunchiness
yesterday so long ago

recipe book open -
my hands travel
to a time in the past

lace swirls
over deepest blue
our Earth
lying under the sun
one never looks sick

one never looks sick
lying under the sun

yesterday
my firstborn daughter
was wed
in the morning light
the hills seem far away

the hills seem far away
in the morning light

look out, world
'cause here I come
a woman
walking with a smile
and a springtime urge

spring time urge
the woman walking
with a smile

Montreal poet Maxianne Berger and Ottawa poet Mike Montreuil co-edit the on-line periodical Cirrus : tankas de nos jours.

For more about Cirrus

Mike Montreuil: Four Haibun

GONE

We’re growing old, you and I. Friend. Lover. The years have passed without our noticing. Except, our once young bodies have disappeared. The times we shared are memories we are grateful for. We’re growing old, you and I. . .

            morning news

            my favourite actress

            gone too early

***

LAYERS

In my dream, I quietly fell while riding the currents of the North wind. I saw those around me laughing at the way I became a leaf, changing colours, from red to brown, falling and becoming one with the damp ground.

            early morning

            a layer of snow

            covers our sins

***

IS IT?

Is it the weekend yet?

            from speakers

            in the coffee shop

            Bob Marley sings

            “Get up! Stand up

            for your rights”

I thought not. . .

***

DAWN

We both notice the emergency lights up ahead. Police cruisers, ambulances and a fire truck reveal the accident site. Flares illuminate the gravel strewn pavement and a rough double wheel path towards dense underbrush and the darkness of the forest. In our minds, we come up with multiple scenarios. Yet our eyes return to the forest.

            dawn–

            your kiss

            brings me to life

***

Mike Montreuil lives in the coldest capital city in the world, Ottawa, Canada. His English and French haiku, tanka, and haibun have been published online or in print. You may find him observing the wildlife in one of Ottawa’s many coffee shops.
 

Angela Leuck: A Haiku Sequence and A Tanka String

THREE HAIKU FOR MY SON

Inspired by Kazuhiko Ito’s

dear brother

don’t forget this—

birds

flying through the sky

have heavy entrails                   

Ferris Wheel: 101 Modern and Contemporary Tanka, 

Kozue Uzawa and Amelia Fielden, trans., Cheng & Tsui, 2006

Dear son,

remember this:

birdsong after rain

isn’t music

to worms

the peace dove

shits on your head

just like any other bird

women

with sultry voices

don’t have to shout

FOUR TANKA

home from college

my older sister

sprawls on the sofa

brazenly reading

Lady Chatterley’s Lover

outside my window

the snow-covered

mountain

T.S. Eliot

climbed in his youth

dull gray day

I turn on the lights

at lunchtime--

how once I devoured

Koestler’s Darkness at Noon

to remind himself

how lucky he is

my husband

dips into

the Gulag Archipelago

Award winning haiku and tanka poet Angela Leuck has been published in journals and anthologies worldwide. Her poems were included in Haiku Journey, a video game by Hot Lava Games (2006). The author of Garden Meditations and a cicada in the cosmos (inkling press, 2010), haiku white and haiku noir (carve, 2007) and Flower Heart (Blue Ginkgo Press, 2006), she also has edited numerous anthologies. She is the founder and organizer of the Black Tea Haiku Group in Montreal, and in 2005, with Kozue Uzawa, she co-founded Tanka Canada and its biannual journal Gusts.