Fukushima. 5 Poems by Mitch Grabois Featured at Artvilla.com

 
(i)
 
Fukushima
 
Radiation
browns the waters
like spilled cocoa
and creeps across the sea
 
Laying naked on Santa Monica Beach at 2 a.m.
I awake with a start
my tongue burning
the taste of marshmallows
twisting my stomach
 
I’ve taken so many mind-expanding drugs
I can sense what no one else can
 
Homeless, I have only my own life to save
I’ve got to run before my ears turn blue
before my dick falls off
and my descendants turn into
Elephant Men
 
I pull on my jeans and sweatshirt
and take off running
for Nova Scotia
 
(ii)
 
Worse
 
We’re getting worse, worse than the Goths
and Vandals who sacked Rome
and ate all the green and yellow parakeets in Egypt
worse than the Soviets
who ate the peach-faced love birds
 
There are benevolent Nazi women
on the dark side of the moon
with huge boobs
and faces frozen with Botox
preparing our annihilation
 
(iii)
 
Rooftop
 
She’s on a chaise lounge on her rooftop
in Brooklyn
in this Facebook post
 
She’s stretched out
her legs extended straight in front of her
Her body is very white
She’s wearing an awkward looking bathing suit top
or maybe it’s a kind of halter
It’s hard to tell from this angle
 
She’s taken a selfie of her body
There must have been some neck strain involved
Her body is like milk
I can’t see any tattoos
 
She’s lost all her mystery
I can no longer pretend that she’s satanic
I’ve heard she works for a woman’s magazine
something like Better Homes and Gardens
Do they still publish shit like that?
She’s on the roof with the Hispanic neighborhood
spread out below
She smells the good odor of the rotisserie chicken place
the glass all greasy
and all the Mexican beer and sodas
the Mexicans enjoying their swarthy selves
She thinks she’s getting tanned up there
on the roof
but she’s just getting burned
 
Her thighs are thick
I see that now
I don’t mind thick thighs
but I mind women who talk about
how thick theirs are
as if it would ameliorate some of the shame
if they talk about it
in a jocular way
But who the fuck cares if her thighs are a little chubby
after everything we’ve been through in this world?
Anyway, as Michael Ventura said, fat feels good in bed
 
(iv)
 
Cruel Mayan
 
The woman with the cruel face and large breasts
rests on the couch under the jaguar
her legs folded under her
 
and talks on a cell phone
the universal currency
of disengagement and contempt
 
The doors are ten feet tall
but she is only five
the same height as her ancestors
 
who died before they were forty
and whose foreheads were flat
and their eyes crossed
in beauty
 
This woman’s face is rich in cruelty
as if cruelty came in batches of
a million pixels
 
Her cell phone and blouse are lurid pink
her toenails are orange
She is a minor character in a detective novel
who hides a shiv in her ratted hair
 
She studies the screen of her cell phone
like a Sephardic rabbi studying the Torah
 
She studies it like a weatherman
studying swirls of radar
for deadly storms
 
like a mother staring
into her baby’s crib
for signs of polio
or sudden death syndrome
 
like the father of a juvenile delinquent
peering into his son’s face for proof of worth
or worthlessness
 
This woman’s face gets crueler
as I watch
until she forces me to orgasm
without touching me
 
then leaves me
to recover my sanity
and to clean myself
 
She goes back to the couch
back to uninterrupted staring
into her cell phone
 
like a Sicilian studying the face of a pizza
for signs of crime
or the dark, mottled face of his lover
for signs of betrayal
 
(v)
 
Ruler
 
The jaguar’s eyes burn red
His mouth is red and glows from within
I come and go
The world is full of phantasmas
and lost Americans
whose only salvation is death
 
but who pour agua purificado
from jug to jug
as if
their rituals of juggling clean water
will void damnation
 
The jaguar’s teeth are sharp as a shark’s
sharp as a moray eel’s
This peninsula was once a sea
 
The jaguar’s whiskers are bristly
as my uncle’s
who ran a clothing store in Queens
 
His face cut me
when he bent to kiss
I’d already learned that vampires
came from Rumania
and here he was
 
with his flat cap
and red eyes
 
Ruler of the ghetto
he cheated black men
who were afraid to buy their work clothes
from someone else
 
 
 
 
 

 
 
Mitchell Krockmalnik Grabois has had over twelve-hundred of his poems and fictions appear in literary magazines in the U.S. and abroad, including POETRY LIFE AND TIMES. He has been nominated for numerous prizes. His novel, Two-Headed Dog, based on his work as a clinical psychologist in a state hospital, is available for Kindle and Nook, or as a Print Edition . To see more of his work, google Mitchell Krockmalnik Grabois. He lives in Denver.
 
 
 
 
 
 

Robin Ouzman Hislop is Editor of Poetry Life and Times his publications include All the Babble of the Souk and Cartoon Molecules collected poems and Key of Mist the recently published Tesserae translations from Spanish poets Guadalupe Grande and Carmen Crespo visit Aquillrelle.com/Author Robin Ouzman Hislop about author. See Robin performing his work Performance (Leeds University) .

The Aquillrelle Wall of Poetry Members Anthology Book 7


 
The Aquillrelle Wall of Poetry Members Anthology, book seven ©2018
 
Friends, poets,
 
Aquillrelle’s Anthology Wall7 is now released and published in both Ebook/PDF and Paper formats. It can be purchased on Lulu (and a couple of months from now also on Amazon, etc.).
 
Many thanks to the participants and to the supporters, it was hard yet gratifying work. Enjoy your (and your friends’) art!
 
The seventh wall. Some graffiti. Some works of art. Even some smudges included since they hold a message to be heard. Because this is the essence of every Aquillrelle wall – let everyone who values his/her word get a piece of the wall to themselves. You, the readers, are the beneficiaries. Read!
 
 

 
The poem included below is an excerpt from the above reviewed anthology
 
Elliptical Shift by Robin Ouzman Hislop
 
 
Meadows of wild flowers
sweet in an urban niche
framed by a hand of nostalgia
framed in an enclosure
 
for the price of pathos
riots of the human race
rampage across its space
in resistance, resentment
 
everywhere history obscures the view
 
an enigmatic phantom
it projects its rapacious plans onto tomorrow
McDonald’s signs, stewards of the planet, protein signifier
 
regularities merge into a wholeness
the news comes on, in a refrain of the same monotone
as if the world were made new again.
 
*
 
The darkest regions of the planet’s mind
the photon of a star in a formless moment
becomes an instance of a memory
as the desert invites the ripple
to a turbulence of refrain
a window frame constrains
its world view to all that follows on
 
as if it could choose between what’s real
what’s imaginary
 
such choices, shape our view
to the now, before an open future
 
*
 
sunset on the high street, traffic
vanishing into it like black dots
whizzing out of the blind, the zonk
plonk, disappearing into its shadow
 
dust of ages, its record
 
all the particles cascading
into the horizon’s viewpoint
all the bits, pieces in their parts
blowing on the horizon’s sunset
 
Time is not the shadow cast by the world
the world is the shadow cast by time

 
(excerpt from All the Babble of the Souk)
 
 
To order: http://www.lulu.com/shop/Aquillrelle/The Aquillrelle-Wall of Poetry Book Seven/paperback/
 
e-book: http://www.lulu.com/shop/Aquillrelle/The Aquillrelle Wall of Poetry Book Seven/ebook/
 
 
 
 
Robin Ouzman Hislop is Editor of Poetry Life and Times his publications include All the Babble of the Souk and Cartoon Molecules collected poems and Key of Mist the recently published Tesserae translations from Spanish poets Guadalupe Grande and Carmen Crespo visit Aquillrelle.com/Author Robin Ouzman Hislop about author. See Robin performing his work Performance (Leeds University) .

 

Spike. Poem excerpt from Cartoon Molecules by Robin Hislop


 
A runaway on a Singularity slippery slope need not be a despairingly
Sisyphean slide back but spike upward to an extremely great verticality
allowing something relatively harmless today start a trend that results
in something currently unthinkable a – Pandorean pandemonium
 
still he didn’t want to kill himself and his crew so he hatched a plan
that systems possessing the same patterns of causal organization will instantiate
the same types of conscious states irrespective of whether the organization
is implemented in neurons – silicon – plastic or any other substrate
 
taken to its heart we would vanish into its stronger existence – do the angels
really only take back what is theirs – what has streamed out of them – or is there
sometimes – as if by oversight something of our being as well? – do we not see
the swirling return to ourselves (how should we see it?) the world today being
as it is a vast unsupervised laboratory – in which a multitude of experiments
are simultaneously under way
 
brain-computer interfaces have already left the laboratory which allows gamers
to interact directly with their consoles – a high resolution neuro-signal
acquisition and processing wireless neuroheadset uses a set of sensors to tune
into electric signals produced by the brain to detect player thoughts feelings
and expressions and connects wirelessly to most PCs’ — all this for only $299!
 
partly this is because we cannot agree on what such purposes are – and even if
we were to – suddenly he knew that when he heard the music he would be unable
to resist steering toward the island’s rocks – the problem wasn’t the present
rational Ulysses – but instead the future illogical Ulysses – the person he’d become
when the Sirens came within earshot
 
but that is the gods’ affair – if only we too could discover a pure contained – human
place – a strip of fruitful land of our own – between river and stone!- for our own heart
exceeds us – the curve of the graph grows exponentially steeper – until that spike is
the Singularity – beyond the veil of the opaque wall – the unthinkable – the horizon
of the final dawn looms – lanced on the spear of the terrible angel.

 
 
After Rainer Maria Rilke. Duino Elegies
 
 
 
 
Robin Ouzman Hislop is Editor of Poetry Life and Times his publications include All the Babble of the Souk and Cartoon Molecules collected poems and Key of Mist the recently published Tesserae translations from Spanish poets Guadalupe Grande and Carmen Crespo visit Aquillrelle.com/Author Robin Ouzman Hislop about author. See Robin performing his work Performance (University of Leeds) .

 

A Philosophy of Yard by Jack Kolkmeyer. Collected Poems Reviewed by Renee’ Drummond-Brown

 

A Philosophy of Yard
FORTE Publications #12
Ashmun Street Snapper Hill Monrovia, Liberia
ISBN-10: 0994534795 ISBN-13: 978-0994534798

A Philosophy of Yard by Jack Kolkmeyer takes an intimate look at poetic reflections of the past, present and future day in a philosophical manner. This book leaves the reader with an understanding of how we view ourselves and how one should grasp the universe by accepting all of the mysteries and magic that ultimately grounds us. Kolkmeyer’s book opens with a poem titled “Often as a child” (1) but ironically, the poem was written about the death of Kolkmeyer’s grandfather which took place in Cincinnati. While this poem invites the reader into the authors personal space it also stresses of the importance of a life-cycle from a child’s perspective. On the other hand the author’s theme poem “A Philosophy of Yard” (2) written in Delray Beach weaves magic of wonder as it relates to nature’s stones, plants, seeds, weeds and animals, thus allowing everything to grow and reorganize itself in due season. In this review of A Philosophy of Yard, I will weigh in on the contents and expound on the strengths and weaknesses of Kolkmeyers’ book. Therefore, buckle yourselves because A Philosophy of Yard will travel you from the “here” to the “there,” and brings the reader full circle back into one’s very own yard, while instructing you along the way.

The author strategically draws from poets; such as T. E. Hulme, Wallace Stevens and D. H. Lawrence using their unique metaphor style for place and implements it into the veins of his book. While the Beat Poets educated Kolkmeyer about meter and flow he skillfully mimics their style as well and weaves that throughout the book also. This author is no stranger to writing from the depths of his soul, while using inspirations from some of the great poets before his time. Kolkmeyer surrounds himself with knowledge of the African American culture as well, which gives the poetry within this book that rhythm and blues flare; adding literary renaissance to the messages that he conveys within his body of work.

Kolkmeyer’s poem “Coimbra Universidad” takes place in Coimbra, Portugal and figuratively points to D. H. Lawrence’s legendary writing style as Kolkmeyer opened the poem with “the sounding of a bitch bell” (106;1). The opening line is powerful, commands immediate attention and yet is definitely a controversial statement that can be viewed as offensive. Overall, the book has roots running deep in familial, providing clear imagery structured in a simplistic way. Yet, this erudite author manages skillfully to make one cogitate about the complexities of life along that path as it also relates to the human race. For example, in the poem “Everybody is Colored (a song)” (100) written in Santa Fe, the author masterfully tackles the race issue head on by addressing “everybody is colored/everybody’s got a mother/and a bag of white bones” (100;1-4).

Talk about iron sharpening iron; this author, shrewd and skillful understands the powerful effect of carefully placed line breaks in his poetry and uses them masterfully in creating genuine stanzas which ultimately stir emotions within the reader as seen in his poem “do doo wop” (95). This poem captures the Harlem Renaissance revolutionary explosion at its best and vibes with Langston Hughes’ poem “The Weary Blues” which evokes a tone of melancholy. While Kolkmeyer’s poem “doo doo wop” (95) has that very same disposition in these lines “Street corner colors fly/faintly yellow umber/surely some blues…shining from the muted lights/prying into the night life/a street corner prophet on his knee” (95;11-17) he manages to create originality and uniqueness in his poem thus causing it to stand up against Hughes’ masterpiece.

Kolkmeyer’s poem “Autumn” (4) and “The pod people” (6) both taking place in Delray Beach, can be compared to Robert Frosts’ poetic style, which often depicts relationships between nature imagery and humans. In the poem “Autumn” Kolkmeyer brilliantly captures the beauty of nature shared with humans as he wrote “we just wait with resignation knowing that winter is near…as we prepare a warmer spot/amidst the moves and rearrangements” (4;14-17). Whereas, in the poem “The pod people” he skillfully uses metaphors to capture that same effect within these lines “but we are in deed /the seed people/planting ourselves along furrows of time/seen differently from star to star” (6;6-9). Kolkmeyer deliberately takes the reader on another journey within these poems by shifting the reader’s mind into various periods as it relates to time which ultimately lends the authors instructions on embracing life.

Kolkmeyer’s poems “A New Seed (a song),” “Coltrane,” “Winter Solstice Winter Light,” and “To Wallace Stevens” reminds one of Frank O’Hara’s writings, while adding dimension of self-reflection and conscious control to otherwise permissive unpredictability. At times Kolkmeyer’s poetry reads like O’Hara’s and could be viewed as bluster of rants and even provocative. For example in the poem “Coltrane” Kolkmeyer skillfully rants “nocturnal admissions…lost arcs and frozen phrases/wholly wars of redemption/tangled transgressions…play deeply” (121;7-11) and then he follows it with a question of uncertainty “how deep is the ocean”(121;12). Nonetheless, it’s important to note that O’ Hara’s works are celebrated amongst the greatest, which further adds credibility to Kolkmeyer’s brilliant masterpiece. However, all the greats are subjected to criticism and Kolkmeyer is certainly no exception to the rule.

The author certainly captures home which takes place in Pittsburgh as he metaphorically points the reader back there within this poem “The Pittsburgh Boys” (66) in the following lines “lost in the hills and the valleys/jumpin’ the fences/riden’ trollies… crossin’ bridges… livin’/in a together place” (66;19-25). He further adds “we were Pittsburgh boys…still we are… we’ll keep going on/because of where we’re from” (67;7-13). “Kolkmeyer’s book is a labor of love that adds dimensions and challenges to one’s understanding as it relates to how we value ourselves and those closest to us. Kolkmeyer’s book can be compared to August Wilson’s incredible play Fences, because, like Wilson, the author describes how separated and yet connected families are throughout life as seen in this particular poem.

Furthermore, Kolkmeyer is unafraid to dig, sow and plant his poetic seeds into the grounds of richly fertilized soil, causing his literary prose and ethos to have great impact, which will influence how modern day writers approach their craft. This author’s voice is vibrant colorful, and distinctly powerful, which challenges the reader to also dig deep and wrestle analytically with the issues of life found in one’s own yard. I look forward not only this project, but, the transformation of Kolkmeyer, his growth and the poetic soul destined to become one of the 21st century greats.
 
 

 
 
Renee’ Drummond-Brown, is an accomplished poetess with experience in creative writing. She is a graduate of Geneva College of Western Pennsylvania. Renee’ is still in pursuit of excellence towards her mark for higher education. She is working on her sixth book and has numerous works published globally which can be seen in cubm.org/news, KWEE Magazine, Leaves of Ink, Raven Cage Poetry and Prose Ezine, Realistic Poetry International, Scarlet Leaf Publishing House, SickLit Magazine, The Metro Gazette Publishing Company, Inc., Tuck, and Whispers Magazine just to name a few. Civil Rights Activist, Ms. Rutha Mae Harris, Original Freedom Singer of the Civil Rights Movement, was responsible for having Drummond-Brown’s very first poem published in the Metro Gazette Publishing Company, Inc., in Albany, GA. Renee’ also has poetry published in several anthologies and honorable mentions to her credit in various writing outlets. Renee’ won and/or placed in several poetry contests globally and her books are eligible for nomination for a Black Book award in Southampton County Virginia. She was Poet of the Month 2017, Winner in the Our Poetry Archives and prestigious Potpourri Poets/Artists Writing Community in the past year. She has even graced the cover of KWEE Magazine in the month of May, 2016. Her love for creative writing is undoubtedly displayed through her very unique style and her work solidifies her as a force to be reckoned with in the literary world of poetry. Renee’ is inspired by non-other than Dr. Maya Angelou, because of her, Renee’ posits “Still I write, I write, and I’ll write!”

Video Poetry Recital Featuring Arboleda, Arróspide, Crespo, Grande, Hislop. International Writers. Leeds.UK.

 
This video recording was made at University of Leeds on October 10th. 2017, it was introduced and presented by Antonio_Martínez_Arboleda Principal Teaching Fellow in Spanish and poet.
 
The initial image can be enlarged to full screen size. The texts and accompanying images can be easily toggled to place according to requirements.
 
Below the video also is a link that gives a report and interpretation of the performance by students who attended.
 


 
The report is live at http://www.leeds.ac.uk/arts/news/article/5108/2nd_cts_professionalisation_talk_2017-18_international_writers_at_leeds