AT THE SCUOLA DI SAN ROCCO – By Anne Babson
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
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
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
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
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
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
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
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
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
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...
