Home Poetry - Year II - Number 7 - Volume I - June 2017

Poetry - Year II - Number 7 - Volume I - June 2017

    AT THE SCUOLA DI SAN ROCCO – By Anne Babson

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    AT THE SCUOLA DI SAN ROCCOBy Anne Babson The gate guard greeted me “pronto,” not “buongiorno,”As if I were afar off phoning, but there IStood, ecce homo.  Years, this artist...

    SIMPLE PLEASURES ELUDE ME LIKE FIREFLIES

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    SIMPLE PLEASURES ELUDE ME LIKE FIREFLIESBy Shirley Jones-Luke  Simple Pleasures Elude Me like Fireflies Joy flits away in the moonlight,solitude is the crystal tears of starsdropping...

    KAME WARURU / JAR BREAKING – Translation by William Waters

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    KAME WARURU Jar BreakingTranslation by William Waters   A SONG FOR AHN, MYONG HWAOriginal Korean:Phonetic Korean:Ahn-gay-ga god-hee-goMyong-song-ee sa-ra-chee-chaHwa-rha Harm-ee Da-shee sal-lan-nan-da. English:As the mist risesVenus disappears;Even the dust sparkles.    KAME WARURU* Jar Breaking                        For BashoI hadforgottenthe jarin thekitchen,--had forgottenthe...

    DOWNPOUR – By Bruce McRae

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    DOWNPOURBy Bruce McRae Downpour A heavy rain falling over Lithium Island,the roads flooded with tears of the disenfranchised,the quarry a lake of grief and woes,the tavern’s...

    DORSOS DE LUZ DE ÁGUAS MAIS PROFUNDAS

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    DORSOS DE LUZ DE ÁGUAS MAIS PROFUNDASpor Manuel Neto dos Santos59 Poemas ígneos27-31/1/13Para Hilda HilstIn memoriamPois se o sol surge sempreEm lugar certo…Que seja certa a luz de um novo verso.*Eu vejo...

    MORAL ORAL – By Zach Trebino

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    MORAL ORALBy Zach Trebino death’s mouth one morning, we wake in a coiled embrace, dead.i don’t know how i even know this. after years inthat now-rotten...

    THANKSGIVING – By Obi Nwakanma

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    THANKSGIVINGBy Obi Nwakanma Thanksgiving It is the seventh month, and theUvene fruits are ripe again  -The wild berries, plump with juice;The breadfruit, and the gourds are...

    PALAVRAS – By Pierre Sotér

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    PALAVRASBy Pierre Sotér Palavrasto the memory of António Aleixo           P’ras palavras serem fundas,e da vida também parte,não precisam ser fecundas,nem sequer de muita arte.Há palavras vagabundas,e...

    CAPRICCIO – By Maureen Eppstein

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    CAPRICCIOBy Maureen Eppstein  Capricciofor no reasonIl capro, the goat on the hillsudden, unpredictable change, as of one's mindhip-hobble, hip-hobblesomersaultscartwheelssunlight on white daisieson the verge of a city street, a dusty sunflowera garden planted...

    TO MY MOTHER’S FRIEND – By Leilani Ahia

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    TO MY MOTHER'S FRIENDBy Leilani Ahia To My Mother's Friend Let me tell you of the walkyou missed this eveningbecause you did not care for wetand...