Key of Mist. The Book & Poem by Guadalupe Grande.

 
 
guadalupe-grande-2001
 
 
GUADALUPE GRANDE
Madrid, 1965.
 
She has written the following books of poetry: El libro de Lilit (1995), La llave de niebla (2003), Mapas de cera (2006) and Hotel para erizos (2010).
 
She has been translated into French in the book Métier de crhysalide (translation by Drothèe Suarez and Juliette Gheerbrant (2010) and into Italian, in the volume Mestiere senza crisalide (translation by Raffaella Marzano (2015). She made the selection and translation of La aldea de sal (2009), an anthology of Brazilian poet Lêdo Ivo, together with poet Juan Carlos Mestre.
 
Her creative work extends to the territory of photography and visual poetry.http://guadalupegrande.blogspot.com.es/

 
 

  Key of Mist is an excerpt from the collected poems Key of Mist
 
key-of-mist-thumb

                                                                  KEY of MIST

I

Behind the fence there´s a ditch
and behind the ditch
there´s a chest devastated by the journey.
Who arrives here and how
and after perhaps?
Who arrives and says and names
and leaves their hands stuck to this fence
as stamps are stuck to envelopes,
to return where 
to return to then
to return to later, never again?
       The compass rose rolls amongst the rubble,
       rolls on the banks of gravel,
       on the edge of ash,
       and leaves its petals of distance,
       its shipwreck of durum-wheat and pollen,
       beneath the wheels of the car which has just passed.
Time for the word time
         amidst the rubble of the tower of babel.

II

But now there´s the ditches:
       water ditches
       light ditches
       gas ditches
       ditches for words.
I am spelling
while telling myself
that it can´t be today,
that there is too much rush,
that life´s a disaster
or nonsense
or a useless disquiet,
and due to that, today there´s no time:
                                                             time for nothing, time for what.

III

I open the door, switch on the light,
turn on the tap:
I´d like to know whom to call.
The sound of traffic enters through the window;
I hear the rumours of travellers
I listen to the sound of the inhabitants
         and builders
                           of this language without words.

IV

I speak in gurgles
as if a key of mist
were laid across my throat,
a key fogged up by noise,
a key flooded by light,
      a gas key
      a water key
      a doorless key,
      a definitely shadowy key
buried inside my throat,
in the ditch of my bewildered throat.

V

Behind each fence there is a ditch,
behind each ditch there is a journey.

         The compass rose crosses
         the city tunnels:
         from its smoky petals it brings
         forth mossy farewells,
         the empire of forget-me-nots,
         paper for unwritten letters,
         humiliated stamps
         and a devastated chest in the building 
         of music
                       or language
                                           or city noise.

Under the asphalt of these roads
the tower of babel grows
sad and useful.

VI

I turn on the tap in the kitchen
and while water runs through the sink
I wonder which words 
this thread of order and cleanliness is spelling,
which key I should switch to, to understand
the language of fences, the language
of ditches,
the underground sound
of migrating birds
opening without any key this city´s gates,
           without a key,
           at last, 
                                      at last.

LA LLAVE DE NIEBLA

I

Detrás de la valla hay una zanja
y detrás de esa zanja
hay un pecho desolado en el viaje.
¿Quién llega hasta aquí y cómo
y luego tal vez?
¿Quién llega y dice y nombra
y deja sus manos pegadas a esta valla,
como se pegan los sellos a las cartas,
para volver a dónde
para volver a entonces
para volver a luego nunca más?

Rueda la rosa de los vientos por los escombros,
rueda a la orilla de la grava,
al borde de la ceniza,
y deja sus pétalos de distancia,
su polen náufrago y candeal,
bajo las ruedas del coche que acaba de pasar.

Tiempo para la palabra tiempo
        entre los escombros de la torre de babel.

II

Pero ahora están las zanjas:
        zanjas de agua,
        zanjas de luz,
        zanjas de gas,
        zanjas para las palabras
que pronuncio
mientras me digo
que hoy no puede ser,
que hace mucha prisa,
que la vida es un desastre
o un disparate
o un desasosiego inútil,
debido a lo cual hoy no hay tiempo:
         tiempo para nada, tiempo para qué.

III

Abro la puerta, enciendo la luz,
abro el grifo:
quisiera saber a quién llamar.
Entra el sonido del tráfico por la ventana;
oigo el rumor de los viajeros,
escucho el sonido de los habitantes
           y de los constructores
                    de este idioma sin palabras.

IV

Hablo a borbotones,
como si tuviera una llave de niebla
atravesada en la garganta,
una llave empañada por el ruido,
una llave anegada por la luz,
         una llave de gas,
         una llave de agua,
         una llave sin puerta,
         una llave definitivamente umbría,
enterrada en mi garganta,
en la zanja de mi desconcertada garganta.

V

Detrás de cada valla hay una zanja,
detrás de cada zanja hay un viaje.
         La rosa de los vientos cruza
         los túneles de la ciudad:
         trae entre sus pétalos de humo
         el musgo de las despedidas,
         el imperio de los nomeolvides,
         papel para cartas no escritas,
         humillados sellos
         y un pecho desolado en la construcción
         de la música

                           o el lenguaje
                                             o el ruido de la ciudad.
Bajo el asfalto de estas calles
crece la torre de babel
triste y útil.

VI

Abro el grifo en la cocina
y mientras corre el agua por el fregadero
me pregunto qué palabras pronuncia
este hilo de orden y limpieza,
qué llave debo abrir para entender
el lenguaje de las vallas, el idioma
de las zanjas,
el sonido subterráneo
de las aves migratorias
que abren sin llave alguna las puertas de esta ciudad,
         sin llave,
         por fin,
                                por fin.

 
 

OLYMPUS DIGITAL CAMERA
 
Amparo Arróspide (Argentina) has published five poetry collections: Presencia en el Misterio, Mosaicos bajo la hiedra, Alucinación en dos actos y algunos poemas, Pañuelos de usar y tirar and En el oído del viento, as well as poems, short stories and articles on literature and films in anthologies and international magazines. She has translated authors such as Francisca Aguirre, Javier Díaz Gil, Luis Fores and José Antonio Pamies into English, together with Robin Ouzman Hislop, who she worked with for a period as co-editor of Poetry Life and Times, a Webzine. Her translations into Spanish of Margaret Atwood (Morning in the Burned House), James Stephens (Irish Fairy Tales) and Mia Couto (Vinte e Zinco) are in the course of being published, as well as her two poetry collections Hormigas en diáspora and Jacuzzi. She takes part in festivals, recently Transforming with Poetry (Leeds) and Centro de Poesía José Hierro (Getafe).
 
 
robin-portrait-july-sotillo-2016-by-amparo
 
 
Robin Ouzman Hislop is on line Editor at Motherbird.com, Artvilla.com & Poetry Life & Times, his recent publications include Voices without Borders Volume 1 (USA), Cold Mountain Review (Appalachian University, N.Carolina), The Poetic Bond Volumes, Phoenix Rising from the Ashes (an international anthology of sonnets) and The Honest Ulsterman. His last publications are a volume of collected poems All the Babble of the Souk & Key of Mist, a translation from Spanish of the poems by the Spanish poetess Guadalupe Grande, both are published by Aquillrelle.com and available at all main online tributaries. For further information about these publications with reviews and comments see Author Robin..
 
 
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Key of Mist. Guadalupe Grande.Translated.Amparo Arróspide.Robin Ouzman Hislop
 
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Press Release Poetic Bond V1

PRESS RELEASE PRESS RELEASE PRESS RELEASE PRESS RELEASE PRESS RELEASE PRESS RELEASE

Willowdown Books is pleased to announce the poems
Tenochtitlan
and
In Bed

by
Robin Ouzman Hislop
have been chosen for inclusion in the international poetry anthology

THE POETIC BOND VI
ISBN-13: 978-1539334682
ISBN-10: 1539334686
Publication Date 5 November 2016
Available from www.thepoeticbond.com and across all AMAZON Channels

 

 

Summary Review:
“Tenochtitlan – the narrative sweeps us along, and use of language, particularly when visceral, is a joy to read”
“In Bed the beauty and mastery of the language, for example “A faceless oval…” is immersing and impressive”   (Trevor Maynard, Editor The Poetic Bond Series).

Robin Ouzman Hislop is on line Editor at Poetry Life and Times, Artvilla.com & Motherbird.com.
His latest publications are ALL THE BABBLE OF THE SOUK  Collected Poems & KEY OF MIST
a translation of the poems by the Spanish poetess Guadalupe Grande, La llave de niebla, both
are published by www.aquillrelle.com see for further information reviews & comments.

The Poetic Bond VI
POETRY THAT BINDS, POETRY THAT BONDS
POETRY THAT FREES US

Editors’ Notes:
37 poets from 12 countries were selected through a submission process in which there were no

restrictions on form, style, length of subject; instead the choices made were on the basis of emergent

themes and congruency in the pool of work; a snapshot of the poetry of new media NOW, seeking to

capture the zeitgeist of the moment.

 

Trevor Maynard, UK based poet and writer, manager of Poetry, Review and Discuss Group, a major poetry group on LinkedIn. His new poetry collection is GREY SUN, DARK MOON was published September 14 2015). He is also the author of several plays. Further information at http://www.trevormaynard.com

The Poets of The POETIC BOND VI (2016) are; Amanda Eakin (Ohio, USA), Rebecca Behar (France), Belinda Dupret (West Sussex, England), Betty Bleen (Ohio, USA), Bonnie J. Flach (California, USA), Bonnie Roberts (Alabama, USA), Carey Link (Alabama, USA), Christine Anderes (New York, USA), Cigeng Zhang (Beijing, China), Diane Burrow (Oxfordshire, England), Diane Colette (Florida, USA), George Carter (London, England), George C. Robertson (Dundee, Scotland), GK Grieve (England), Greg Mooney (North Carolina), Hongvan Nguyen (Virginia, USA), Ian Colville (Bedfordshire, England), Jill Angel Langlois (Illinois, USA), Joseph J. Simmons (Maryland, USA), Jude Neale (British Columbia, Canada), Kwai Chee Low (Kuala Lumpur, Malaysia), Lawrence W Lee (Arizona, USA), Linda Mills (Oregon, USA), Madalena Fine (West Sussex, England), Marli Merker Moreira (Sao Leopoldo, Brazil), Miklos Mezosi (Budapest, Hungary), Michael Melichov (Israel), Nana Tokatli (Greece), Neetu Malik (Pennsylvania, USA), Trevor Maynard (Surrey, England), Pushpita Awasthi (the Netherlands), Robin Ouzman Hislop (UK & Spain), Rowland Hughes (Bridgend, Wales), Swaizi Vaughan (Texas, USA), Wendy Joseph (Washington, USA), William DiBenedetto (Seattle, USA) , and Will Walsh (Florida, USA)

The submission for The Poetic Bond VII opens March 31st, 2017

PRESS RELEASE PRESS RELEASE PRESS RELEASE PRESS RELEASE PRESS RELEASE PRESS RELEASE
 
 
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goodreads.com/author/show/Robin Ouzman Hislop
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Take Us. A Music Video Poem by The Black Socks


 
Image Dave Hall lead singer of The Black Socks for more information about the group & its activities visit their site at the link below. Editor’s Note.
 
dave-hall-balck-socks
 
 
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http://www.aquillrelle.com/authorrobin.htm
http://www.amazon.com. All the Babble of the Souk. Robin Ouzman Hislop
www.lulu.com. All the Babble of the Souk. Robin Ouzman Hislop
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http://www.innerchildpress.com/robin-ouzman-hislop.All the Babble of the Souk

Enduring the anguish of thinking… A Poem by Richard Lloyd Cederberg

enduring-the-anguish-of-thinking

 
“There was only the cemetery itself, spread out in the moonlight like a soft grey hallucination, a stony wilderness of Victorian melancholy.” (IN MEMORY)
 

 
How silently
And stern these
Straining days pass,
Where, at times, in open tyranny,
Scattered thoughts scramble
For measured application…
 
O dismay,
Each day
Embracing (the
Great word ‘WAIT’),
This (at times) tragic fate
Impelling the mind to reengage
With something other than
A wearied wide road
Worn smooth…
Another fluster putting glory on
[Hoping] to rediscover where
Newness is apparent, and where honest
Happiness is more than a shadow of things past…
 
Throughout life
(I’ve) known thinking
That piled-up (at times)
Like a day’s dead sanctities;
Thought-quakes pricked with panic –
Like vexed birds flailing on windowpanes –
Thoughts – in rising currents wild with leaves –
Trembling in trepidation at the tumults of the day,
But clinging to where Earth and Heaven meet crying:
O Burning Lion – Creator, from whom flows
The substance of all fresh thinking;
Help me bear this anguish…

    (II) AN APPEAL…

O breath of life…
Breathe on this mind that broods
(At times) so helpless and unnerved…
 
…From the utmost corners,
O divine breath,
Command my lassitude
To drift from me like a whisper
 
Preserve me from these penumbras
Where despair shrieks in the belly of clouds;
 
And, where from all dark-lipped furrows,
Hubris strolls in chatoyant silk
 
…From the four winds come,
O breath,
To breathe upon
These outworn motivations,
That this slain heart could rise up
To write rather of life than of death
 
… From the uttermost parts,
O breath of life,
Breathe on me that I might suspire
As an Eagle stirring its nest;
Hovering over its young;
Spreading forth its majestic wings
To carry each of them up to the high-places;
For it is your breath (alone) O God that sustains me…

 
 
richard lloyd cederberg
 
10/16
 
“Then the Lord God formed a man from the dust of the ground and breathed into his nostrils the breath of life, and the man became a living being.” Genesis 2:7
 
 
author-pic-2
 
BIOGRAPHY (10/2016) – Richard Lloyd Cederberg
 
Richard is the progeny of Swedish and Norwegian immigrants. He was born in Chicago Illinois. Richard began his journey into the arts at age six. For twelve years he played classical trumpet. But then, the British incursion of music (Beatles and the Dave Clark Five) influenced him to put down the trumpet to take-up acoustic and electric guitar, and, to write songs and lyrics. He toured professionally for ten years. In 1995 Richard was privileged to design and build his own Midi-Centered Recording Studio ~ Taylor & Grace ~ where he worked diligently until 2002. During that time he composed and multi-track recorded over 500 compositions and has two CD’s (‘WHAT LOVE HAS DONE’ and ‘THE PATH’) to his personal credit.
 
Richard’s interest in writing continues. His poetic invention confluxes integrative elements: history, parlance, alliteration, metaphor, allegory, characterization, spirituality, faith, eschatology, art, and subtext. Avoiding the middle-road; he takes advantage of diverse poetic anatomies including: Rhythmical, Poetic/Prose, Triolets, Syllable formats, Story-Poems, Freeform, Haiku, Tanka, Haibun, and Acrostic. Richard’s work has been (and is) featured in a wide variety of anthologies, compendiums, and e-zines including: Poetry Life and Times, Artvilla, and Motherbird. Richard was nominated twice for the Pushcart Prize.
 
Published books include:
 
The Monumental Journey Series (adventure/mystery/historical fiction) 1. A MONUMENTAL JOURNEY… 2. IN SEARCH OF THE FIRST TRIBE… 3. THE UNDERGROUND RIVER… 4. BEYOND UNDERSTANDING. A new adventure/thriller, BETWEEN THE CRACKS has been published. A new eschatological drama – AFTER WE WERE HUMAN – is being written. Follow the lives of several friends as a new race of ageless multi-dimensional humans comes back to Earth with their Creator to rule and reign for 1000 years.
 
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www.christianstoryteller.com

 
 
 
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Key of Mist. Guadalupe Grande.Translated.Amparo Arróspide.Robin Ouzman Hislop
 
goodreads.com/author/show/Robin Ouzman Hislop
http://www.aquillrelle.com/authorrobin.htm
http://www.amazon.com. All the Babble of the Souk. Robin Ouzman Hislop
www.lulu.com. All the Babble of the Souk. Robin Ouzman Hislop
https://www.amazon.com/author/robinouzmanhislop
http://www.innerchildpress.com/robin-ouzman-hislop.All the Babble of the Souk