En el Oído del Viento. Collected Poems. Amparo Arrospide. Reviewed by Jose Antonio Pamies

 
Su antigua música el desdecir diciéndose
el vértice del miedo y su pregunta
al filo de un abismo
como si de prestado no viviésemos miedo
 
Ah no lo desconoces alguna vez de niño lo sentiste
bajo sábanas amargas o dichosas
de pronto alargar su dedo oscuro
 
el miedo amigo el miedo cómplice
restregando los flancos de otro día
barrenando certezas preguntándose aquí
cómo decirles nada cómo decir si aprietan
 
Otros imponen establecen recaudan
otros castigan evalúan deciden
otros deciden miedo
 
o nadie en absoluto ni una sola persona
y sin embargo sabes
frente al espejo sabes
callar lo sabes lo has aprendido al fin
 
Di qué pronto la costumbre nos arropa
qué pronto está debajo el escondite
y las vasijas frías del llorar
 
y el miedo nos sonríe tiritando
entrechocando dientes
cubiertos para un ya mudo comensal
tan yerto como tú que le prometes
vivir, seguir viviendo en miedo como siempre.
 
Amparo Arróspide, a poem from En el oído del viento (Baile del Sol, 2016)
 
 
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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).
 
 

(EN EL OÍDO DEL VIENTO, Baile del Sol, 2016)
Amparo Arróspide
 
 
En el oído del viento es el último libro de poemas publicado por Amparo Arróspide, filóloga, traductora y poeta nacida en Argentina y radicada desde hace años en Europa. En esta colección de poemas nos ofrece un trabajo singular, innovador, sorprendente, coloreado por diversos registros y voces corales, sin perder el hilo conductor de una voz afianzada: “Y a salvo yo, lectora de la vida, esto que se mueve y me sucede, donde sucedo y no hay respuestas, ni siquiera búsqueda de respuestas, un afán inútil, donde presto mi oído atento al runrún de lo que pasa y va pasando.”
 
La realidad resuena en este oído y se nos ofrece traducida con distorsión, juegos del lenguaje y toques de ironía, quizá una de las mejores formas de poner de manifiesto la situación social que atravesamos sin caer en la queja panfletaria o el lamento repetitivo.
 
Y es que lo cierto y verdad es que “Hemos descreído del género mayor, ese rumiante ante la caja de los panegíricos con olor a violeta y forma de billete bancario.”
 
El libro está dividido en tres partes: “en el oído del viento”, “el mundo en fuga” y una tercera parte “a modo de epílogo”. Encontramos en muchos de estos poemas una poesía crítica con esa realidad exterior que sutilmente nos ha ido imponiendo su dictadura de lo políticamente correcto. Es tarea de la poesía desvelar los resortes de esas trampas para acceder a la verdad, a la esencia de una realidad que a menudo difiere bastante de las apariencias: “¿Ustedes nunca fueron vendidas compradas construídas/ paseadas por los medios de incomunicación?”
 
Los poemas se enfrentan a esa labor a través de ingeniosos mecanismos que denotan un buen trabajo con el lenguaje y con la semántica, dejando apreciar el valor textual de los poemas, a la vez que encuentran diversos tipos de paralelismos con la realidad exterior a la que refieren. En esa relación de contexto los versos se abren paso significando distorsionadamente, tratando con divertimento crítico acontecimientos que nos conciernen a todos los ciudadanos.
 
Una innovadora fusión de poéticas se nos revela aquí. Por un lado, encontramos preocupaciones y motivos de fondo que podrían resumirse en estas palabras de Enrique Falcón: “Mi verdadero conflicto: que me muerden mis versos, que no tengo país.” Y por otro lado, el magnífico trabajo con el lenguaje se acerca formalmente a una poesía conceptual, cercana a los concretistas y a algunas obras de Martín Gubbins o Ignacio Miranda en su tratamiento del lenguaje administrativo y burocrático, convertido en obra de arte mediante el talento poético.
 
Esta labor a que nos referimos se aprecia en una serie de poemas que ofrecen variaciones a referencias legislativas como en “Real Decreto 624/2014” o a discursos políticos como en “Investidura MMXI” donde se alude al discurso de investidura del presidente de Gobierno actual en España. Hay en ellos un contraste de la estructura opaca, propia de ese tipo de discursos políticos, con esa magia poética que nace de los nuevos sentidos que ofrece el texto distorsionado. Ecos surrealistas de una voz que se distancia de la realidad para denunciarla mejor mediante la deformación de los significantes, el realismo de ese lenguaje político resulta tan grisáceo que en su temerario engaño no es capaz de ofrecer ni siquiera un vocabulario seductor. Esta poesía seduce y divierte, pero a su vez contiene el poso amargo de la verdad ineludible, de la corrupción, del paro, de los recortes, de las mentiras que duelen:
 
“Habrá pañoles, todos punibles, todos fungibles, todos cocodrilos,/ dignos de esputo, todos capaces de trincar en la estafeta común.”
 
Los recursos del lenguaje poético son mucho más bellos y entretenidos que ese lenguaje de los burócratas, pero desvelan también una verdad más cruda. El esperpento se hace necesario para poder afrontar el tratamiento de cuestiones que tanto nos afectan: apela a la función lúdica de la literatura a la vez que despierta el pensamiento crítico, señalándonos la realidad que tenemos que afrontar cada día.
 
“Esta es mi puesta, Luñorías./ Es una oferta de bergamota porque se sustenta en la micción/ de que contamos con miedos, meigas y vergas para salir adelante.”
 
En En el oído del viento también hay ráfagas de un registro más íntimo con poemas que apuntan a preocupaciones esenciales como el paso del tiempo, la naturaleza o el amor con ecos de César Vallejo y referencias a otras tradiciones culturales. Y también a la utilidad de la poesía, al lugar del poeta en este mundo, si es que tiene cabida más allá de infinitos interrogantes: “¿Todos los poetas no pueden…/ obtener un doctorado en sinestesia/ por la universidad de Columbia en Nueva York? /¿Trabajar de catedráticos de ciencias púnicas/ trabajar de maestras jardineras,/ trabajar?” “¿No pueden desdoblarse transmutarse / no pueden extrañarse balbucearse / y enmudecer al fin?”
 
En el contexto actual no podemos permitirnos el lujo de que este tipo de obras pasen de puntillas por las estanterías, estamos ante una apuesta innovadora y vitalista que tiende puentes y abre caminos en el marco de la poesía contemporánea. A pesar de tantas necesarias cuestiones, esta poesía no enmudecerá.
 
Cerrando el libro, a modo de epílogo, encontramos un magnífico diálogo que no podría ser más necesario: “Por su bien y por el mío, ciudadano paciente, lo engranaré en la maquinaria de la rutina social. Afortunado usted: de haberlo atendido otro (hay dos escuelas, la dura y la inflexible), dada su mórbida atracción por Sogas y Vigas ya estaría colgando. Podría hacer otro chiste fácil con los empalmes del ahorcamiento pero no lo haré. Alégrese, hombre, tiene usted permiso. ¡Pero hable, calle, alégrese!”
 
Por su bien y por el mío, ciudadano paciente, le recomiendo que se acerque a la poesía que Amparo Arróspide nos ofrece en esta obra.
 
José Antonio Pamies
 
En el oído del viento is only sold at http://www.latiendadebailedelsol.org/ Amparo Arróspide En el Oído del Viento.html

 
 
jose pamies
 
 

José Antonio Pamies (Alicante, 1981) Finalista del III Premio internacional de poesía 
Andrés Salom 2005 y del II Premio de la editorial poesia Eres Tu 2010 con Las Ruinas 
de la Aurora. Ha publicado Campos de hielo (Babilonia, Pliegos de la palabra nº 3, 2012) 
y Afonías (finalista del XXVI Premio Gerardo Diego de Poesía), así como poemas en revistas 
y numerosas antologías. Reside en Madrid, donde realiza estudia Teoría de la Literatura y 
Literatura Comparada.
 
 

José Antonio Pamies (Alicante, 1981) His early poetry collection Las Ruinas de la Aurora was a runner up at the III Andres Salom International Poetry Award in 2005 and the II poesia Eres Tu Publisher Award in 2010. He has published Campos de hielo (Babilonia, Pliegos de la palabra nº 3) and Afonías a runner up at the XXVI Gerardo Diego Poetry Award. He currently lives in Madrid, pursuing studies in Theory of Literature and Comparative Literature.

 
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Bhodi. A Poem by Becca Menon

medusa_by_caravaggio-bodhi

 

 

Bodhi

                                                Medusa in her silent shout;

                                                Tathagata, thus gone, blown out;

                                                Enlightenment, the perfect breath:

                                                Perfect knowledge equals death.

 

 

 

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Becca Menon is an American writer whose largely narrative poetic works, based in myth, fairy tale, folklore and Scripture have been hailed internationally in countries such as Iran, India, Iraq, Canada and the United Kingdom as well as the United States. Some shorter works, essays and translations appear in print and online in publications that include Parnassus, Mezzo Cammin, Kritya, Antiphon and others. She is associate editor of Phoenix Rising¸ a multilingual sonnet anthology.

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Editors note: Image of Medusa

By Caravaggio – Transferred from en.wikipedia. Original uploader was Hugh Manatee at en.wikipedia.Later version(s) were uploaded by Ghirlandajo at en.wikipedia., Public Domain, https://commons.wikimedia.org/w/index.php?curid=4067729

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Customer Survey. A Poem by M. A. Schaffner

 
 

Death is another possible market —

laughing at death, playing at death, dying

slowly and courageously like in movies.
 
 

Death as a costume party with vampires;

unlife as a zombie jonesing for brains,

crashing funerals, pretending to care.

 
 
Death as a product sells better firearms,

more lurid fantasies with the heroes

shaped by algorithms to buyers’ needs.
 
 

For needs read desires; for death, denial

in its most comic form. There will be sex,

of course, and thin pale girls with sincere teeth,
 
 

and over the far horizon the real deal

waits confident as a dealer whose marks

laugh behind his back until they need him.
 
 
MAS at the Furnace

 
 
M. A. Schaffner has had poems published in Shenandoah, Prairie Schooner, Agni, and elsewhere — most recently in Former People, Raintown Review, and Rock River Review. Long-ago-published books include the poetry collection The Good Opinion of Squirrels and the novel War Boys. Schaffner spends most days in Arlington, Virginia juggling a laptop, smart phone, percussion caps, pugs, and a Gillott 404.
 
 
 
 
 
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Dreaming in Hi-Def, Ozymandias Streamed Dynamic Data. A Poem by Joseph Armstead

 
 
The sound of ten million voices raised in confusion,
raised in wonder, raised in anger, raised in prayer,
scatter
like beads of fallen mercury
to roll across the desert sands,
pathways to Giza, Luxor, Cairo,
and Alexandria,
home to antiquity and myth, kingdom of the pharoahs,
pyramidal necropolii dotting an arid landscape,
baking under the fiery glare
of an unblinking solar eye,
next-generation optical disc,
waiting for the Summoning,
for the Call,
waiting for the Sacred, for a Benediction
from a polytheistic overworld
of New non-secular Gods,
the pantheon of the IMF, BASF,
Microsoft, Apple, Oracle,
Exxon-Mobile, CitiBank,
Daimler-Chrysler, Sony,
and McDonald’s,
waiting
as the orchestra of voices gather,
venting their passions, like Opera,
“Look, Ye Unworthy, upon my works, and know
this high-definition storage media format
will spread the glory of the blue-violet laser
across the face of Heaven,
an interstitial data sector
striped across the disk-array
of a Cloud-based
Application Server Farm,
where the tears of the Mighty
fall like acid rain!”
The sound of ten million voices
raised in confusion, raised in wonder,
raised in anger, raised in prayer,
scatter
across a boundless arid plain,
an ocean of charred and barren grit
stretching into a Future where
the Kalashnikov assault rifle
is the scepter of Paradise.

 
 
 
 
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BIO

Joseph Armstead is a suspense-thriller and horror author living in the United States’ San Francisco Bay Area. Author of a dozen short stories and ten novels, his poetry has been published in a wide range of online journals, webzines and print magazines. A mathematician, Futurist and computer technologist, Mr. Armstead’s poetry often defies easy description, but frequently includes neo-classical imagery, surrealist viewpoints and post-modern themes.
 
 
 
 
 
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Through the Grinder. A Poem by A.J. Huffman

 
 
 

Body language indicated frustration,
trying to get back
to normal, and I
looked down at empty.
Hands gave back everything,
thanked me as I had to move on
for their sake. An integrity procedure—
like seals on storebought bottles—
I moved closer
to the edge. Contained,
I believed I would not have known the difference.
I came apart freely and without
damaging the sky, dissolved
into the ether and afterthought.

 
 
 
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A.J. Huffman has published thirteen full-length poetry collections, thirteen solo poetry chapbooks and one joint poetry chapbook through various small presses. Her most recent releases, The Pyre On Which Tomorrow Burns (Scars Publications), Degeneration (Pink Girl Ink), A Bizarre Burning of Bees (Transcendent Zero Press), and Familiar Illusions (Flutter Press) are now available from their respective publishers. She is a five-time Pushcart Prize nominee, a two-time Best of Net nominee, and has published over 2600 poems in various national and international journals, including Labletter, The James Dickey Review, The Bookends Review, Bone Orchard, Corvus Review, EgoPHobia, and Kritya. She is also the founding editor of Kind of a Hurricane Press. www.kindofahurricanepress.com.
 
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GAS STATION. A Poem by John Grey

 
 
 
Straw hat’s busted
and the blue and red flag’s dragging on its pole.
The road’s as narrow as a plumb line
and the sides are baked brick hard.
Rusty gas pump only offers regular.
In the window, brown and speckled eggs,
soda bottles, a can of oil.
Unshaven Ed flops in his chair out front
Straw hat can’t keep back July,
cakes his brow a stinky yellow.
A car creeps by but doesn’t stop.
Maybe can’t read the price of gas.
Ed’s handwriting’s shaky
as his mortgage payments.
May’s quilting, the only thing
her fingers know to do.
Despite the heat, her handiwork
rolls up to her wrinkled chin, almost smothers her.
And here comes Vernon,
just who Ed don’t want to hear.
So Dewey’s got a new computer.
Tell that to the chamber of commerce.
Another car rolls by. And another.
Someone even waves.
Straw hat’s raised in answer, in anger,
then flopped down sideways on Ed’s head.
Go help your grandmother, Ed says.
Steam rises from the swamps,
raccoon pans the trash for food,
wood-stork chatters from a cypress branch.
Vernon creeps reluctantly indoors.
May stops her quilting for a kiss,
struggles to remember who exactly is this boy.
Along comes Temple to complain
about the weather and business and his wife.
Ed listens but his ear is cocked for cars the more.
He straightens his straw hat.
Brim holds by a thread.
How long you had that thing? asks Temple.
Forty years, says Ed. It brings me luck.

 
 
 
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John Grey is an Australian poet, US resident. Recently published in New Plains Review, South Carolina Review, Stillwater Review and Big Muddy Review with work upcoming in Louisiana Review, Cape Rock and Spoon River Poetry Review.
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
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Meet the Poets of Poetic Bond V1.

THE POETIC BOND VI ISBN-13: 978-1539334682
The Only ANNUAL INTERNATIONAL POETRY ANTHOLOGY
actively sought specifically from New Media, Social and Professional Networking

 
Available at The Poetic Bond
&
Amazon.com The Poetic Bond VI
 
William DiBenedetto – time comes uninvited / 7-May-15
William DiBenedetto is a freelance writer and editor living in and loving Seattle since 1994. Born many years ago in New York City, he grew up in Northern Virginia and worked as a journalist in Washington D.C. He graduated from the University of Virginia with a degree in English.
 
Will Walsh – Onion Creek, Utah / As I live and breathe / Evolution of Human Movement I describe nature in a mystical context, illuminating the life and moods of wild places. I also write to encourage people toward their potential, and to thrive without greed, mayhem, hate, or anger. Our actions promoting tolerance, mutual respect, and cooperation will contribute to a more just and peaceful world. http://quietjourneys.blogspot.com/
 
Wendy Joseph – This is America / In my house there are books / when the water rises
Wendy Joseph sailed on cargo ships worldwide for ten years. She holds two Master’s in English, and this is her second appearance in the Poetic Bond. She is also a playwright, actor, and novelist. She lives in the wilds of Washington State with very remarkable people and two cats. www.wendyjosephwrites.com www.facebook.com/TheWitchsHand
 
Swaizi Vaughan – E-Turn Next Left Dead In / Prepubescent Khonsu

Swaizi Vaughan was born in Gainesville, Texas and has always remained true to her emotions in their rawest form.
She is inspired by all things but often illustrates love. Her poignant thoughts and feeling adorn the pages of her
first book to be released in 2017 entitled, Love’s Lobotomy.
 
Rowland Hughes – Lemon Soap / A Valley Funeral

Rowland is a Welsh writer and poet. To care for his brother, he was taken out of school at 14 years old.
Ill health forced him to retire from work as a Local Authority Assistant Surveyor in 1997.
He writes in bustling cafés or in the tranquil confines his shed. www.rowlandhughes.com
 
Robin Ouzman Hislop – Tenochtitlan / In Bed
On line Editor at Poetry Life and Times, Artvilla.com & Motherbird.com. His latest publications are a collection of poems All the Babble of the Souk & Key of Mist a translation from Spanish of the poetess Guadalupe Grande both are published by Aquillrelle.com for further information with reviews and comments see Author Robin .
 
Pushpita Awashti – In my heart of hearts / Words in the Dark
Poetess, fiction writer, translator and literature ambassador, Professor Pushpita Awasthi has dedicated her life for the expansion and proliferation of humanity oriented literature. She taught 20 years university at India. Five years she worked at Indian Embassy now settling in the Netherlands as director of Hindi Universe Foundation. www.pushpitaawasthi.com, https://nrcwebwinkel.nl/boeken/het-beeld-in-de-rots-the-statue-in-the-rock
 
Neetu Malik – dancers / the pianist / wanderer
Neetu weaves life experiences and observations into her poetry and short stories. Fascinated by human nature and its complexity, she strives to convey its intricacies, struggles, and emotions through vivid and visual poetry, often drawing pictures with words to create images that seize and crystallize the transient moments of life. facebook.com/neetuwrites
 
Nana Tokatli – Wheat Fields
Nana Tokatli , painter and poet, is Greek. Graduate of the Fine Arts School of Athens. Has 17 solo shows. Since 2000 writes poetry in greek and in english, short stories in greek. Publications in english: 2003 “to the counter-point” received 5 stars at AbeBooks, UK. 2015 “the Rondo symphony”.
 
Michael Bunny – Cards
My name is Michael, I’m an 18 year old poet / writer / lyricist from Israel. I started writing when I was around the age of 7, and have always been passionate about expressing myself through words.
 
Miklos Mezosi – An Iamblified Inquiry
A published author and scholar, Miklos Mezosi writes on literature and opera. Miklos, who was a Mellon fellow at Edinburgh University,authorized a book on Russian opera. He has published two poetry collections. He writes in Hungarian, English, Latin and Greek.His English poetry is published in anthologies in the UK. http://www.linkedin.com/in/miklosmezosi http://ibs-b.academia.edu/MiklosMezosi
 
Marli Merker Moreira – Drifters
Forever, I am a teacher of literature. Writing emerges from loving words and music. As a Brazilian with German roots and a long university experience in the US, I value the multicultural mosaic of people, beliefs, and cultures. I dream of peace and freedom for us all.
 
Madalena Fine – Lost Letter From Love
Madalena Fine is an anglo-portuguese creative writing student from Sussex. Her writing explores relationships and identity. She was spurred to writing again in 2015, after a public reading of Warsan Shire’s “What they did yesterday afternoon”. Madalena’s bedside reading includes Warsan, Grace Nichols, John Agard, Caroline Bird, Wendy Cope and others…
 
Linda Mills – Abide / Winter Sleep
Nearly blind from birth, language fills my life. I flex my words to communicate this world as I experience it.
For years I’ve had poetry published in magazines around the world and more recently online. Now retired, I am able to write and to travel with my very supportive husband.
 
Lawrence W. Lee – Cynic / Still Life
I have made a good living as a professional artist for almost fifty years. I’ve seen fire and I’ve seen rain.
I have known love and loss in near equal measure. I am interested in almost everything, but have special fondness for language and subatomic physics. I continue to paint. http://lawrenceleeart.com
 
Kwai Chee Low – Cold Winter, Warm Heart
Kwai Chee Low from Malaysia has a love for the English Language from a young age. He started writing poems since 2010 and submitted them to Poemhunter.com and Allpoetry.com. He finds it very gratifying and fulfilling expressing his thoughts and feelings into poems and haiku. He is also a member on LinkedIn.
 
Judith Neale – One Cleft Moon
Jude Neale is a poet, spoken word performer, opera singer and mentor. Her last book, A Quiet Coming of Light, was a finalist for the Pat Lowther Award, best poetry collection by a Canadian female.
 
Joseph J. Simmons – 1914
Joseph Simmons entered college a physics major, graduated an English major, began sharing evening s with other poets. He spent years in federal contracts, now writes, publishes, tries to sharpen and refine his voice and vision.
 
Jill Angel Langlois – If the Wind Blows / I remember silence
Jill Angel Langlois grew up in Park Forest, IL. Her poems and short stories appear in literary magazines, nationally. Collections: Scattered Petals explores the healing power of nature. Whiskey Nights inspired by whiskey and music. “Tell Me The Story,” a memoir, portrays growing up adopted, reuniting with her birth mother.
 
Ian Colville – A Cliché for our Time / Ploughing
Ian Colville was born in Scotland, but is presently exiled in England where he is open-mic regular at Ouse Muse in Bedford. Ian has over 50 poems published in curated magazines and anthologies, including The Poetic Bond. When he’s not writing, he’s reading, and sometimes he goes cycling… for hours. http://iainthepoet.blogspot.co.uk/
 
Hongvan Nguyen – Becoming
Hongvan Nguyen is an English and philosophy graduate from George Mason University. She is the author of two collections of poetry, Under the Stone, and The Chickadees. Her third book, Crossing Places, is in the publication process and will be out on the market by the end of 2016.
 
Greg Mooney – Insecurities
I am an active duty United States Marine, I am 3 classes away from my bachelors in Marketing, currently writing a book that will be dedicated to a deceased friend.
 
GK Grieve – The Final Moment Before The Death of Swans / Addict
Travelled here and there, picked up a few observations, my book “The Final Moment Before The Death of Swans” is to be published in November. Website under construction. Still married. All in all, tickety-boo.
 
George C Robertson – Engraved / A Burning Desire
Worked for many years in telecommunications in the UK and abroad. His Kindle novel Terror at the Towers relives his Human Shield time in 1990s Kuwait. George has been praised for his humorous verses and short stories, published in English and Scots. Song lyrics commended; looking for a music partner/promoter. geo.dor@tiscali.co.uk
 
George Carter – When I got there
George showed an interest in poetry and music from an early age, and is currently working towards university
intent on pursuing a career in music and sound.
 
Diane Collette – Fields of Asphodel
Hails from Bucharest, grew up in Jupiter & traveled the globe in US uniform and is now Corporate Analyst in NYC area.
My love of writing came to fruition over many years while in military life, seemed like pleasant way to deal with tough times, emotions and life in all its wonder.
 
Diane Burrows – Speechless / Take a Look at the Hills
At 9 years old, my teacher predicted: you’ll be a poet. Since then, encouraged by adverts for poetry, I have written in many published anthologies and I was awarded prizes at a poetry- readings. Thanks to the encouragement of Poetic Bond, here I am back again, enjoying sharing my contributions.
 
Cigeng Zhang – Hey, Starling / Special Reunion / Wa Lan (瓦蓝)/ One-line Tide
Cigeng Zhang is a freelance English translator from China. She started writing English poems in 2012. Her poems ‘Drunk Smile’, ‘What Was Left’, ‘The Moon, The Poet’, ‘At 8 O’clock’ and ‘Still for You’ were included in the Poetic Bond III, IV and V respectively since 2013.
 
Christine Anderes – The Ossurary of James / The Unquiet Heart
Christine Anderes …a conservationist and passionate animal advocate is currently working on three collections of poetry and a series of critical essays attesting to the beauty and resilience of nature using lyricism and humor to bring more mindfulness to the critical state of the planet and its inhabitants.
 
Carey Link – Blur Distinctions
Carey Link is from Huntsville, Alabama. She has been writing poetry for over twenty years. Link’s two collections of poetry are What it Means to Climb a Tree (Finishing Line Press) and Awakening to Holes in The Arc of Sun (Mule on a Ferris Wheel).
 
Bonnie Roberts –Cautionary Steps of Love
Publisher at Mule on a Ferris Wheel; poet; activist; ocean-swimmer; silent retreatant; dog “herder”; graduate poetry-writing professor; Fulbright Scholar; NEH Fellow; winner, an Alabama Book of the Year Award.
 
Bonnie J. Flach – At the Crossroads
Bonnie J. Flach – Poet, writer & photographer, for the non-profit “Ocean Artists Society” & member of the Shelter Island Art Assoc. in San Diego. Bonnie writes primarily, but not limited to, poems & stories on nature, wildlife and indigenous people themes. She also submits her poem for The Australian Times Poetry electronic magazine
 
Betty Bleen – Grandma’s Jesus / The Cutting Edge
Betty Bleen’s poetry appears bi-weekly in the Ohio Chinese American News, Columbus, Ohio. She has read at various venues in and around Columbus. Her book of poetry, Bad Red Shoes, is available on Amazon and she has contributed to three anthologies. Betty lives with husband Doug and Mittens the cat. www.toocutetoboop.com https://www.facebook.com/poet.BettyBleen/
 
Belinda Dupret – Isobel
Belinda Dupret won her first poetry competition aged 9 – never won another! She’s been a music promoter; freelance writer; Television Journalist and PR Chief, working in 6 different countries including New Zealand, Australia, and the USA. Her life experience means she brings a world of humanity and imagination to her writing.
 
Beki Behar – Procession
Rebecca Behar is a French writer, poet and slam performer. She has published fiction and children stories, CDs of poetry and music, philosophy and literary criticism. Recent book published : “Poèmes urbains” (Edilivre)
 
Amanda Eakin – The Broken Repairman
Amanda Eakin is an Ashland University graduate who enjoys reading, writing, and surreptitiously looking for grammar errors in social media. She taught English for a few years and is currently enjoying her time in a Communication Center for a Fortune 500 company
 
Trevor Maynard – Take Flight / crushed
Published three books of poetry, the last GREY SUN, DARK MOON, in 2015; appeared in several magazines, as well as performing open mic sessions. Also edited several books of poetry, written and directed plays in London and Edinburgh. Married to Jo, has four children, eight grandchildren, and two cats. www.trevormaynard.com
 
 

          At 8 o’clock
           
          At 8 O’clock in the morning
          She saw the sun as a hawthorn
          She saw the cloud as an oleander
          She saw the chimney as a river
          Who did appear over there?
          Surprised, on crutches was an old man
          Sitting in a boat along a canal
          Singing aloud an odd song —
          In front of me there is a devil
          Going to catch the Monkey King
          Going to seize the trip taker
          The devil is weird and tempting
          She is a White Bone Demon
          At 8 O’clock, this morning …

           
          Cigeng Zhang

 
 
37 poets from 12 Countries Canada, China, England, France, Greece, Hungary, Israel, Malaysia, Netherlands, Scotland, Spain, USA, and Wales THE POETIC BOND VI
 
 
 
 
www.facebook.com/PoetryLifeTimes
www.facebook.com/Artvilla.com
robin@artvilla.com
editor@artvilla.com

 
 
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

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Nominated for the Push Cart Prize. Africa North. A Poem by Robin Ouzman Hislop

  Africa North is an excerpt from the collected poems All the Babble of the Souk. Robin Ouzman Hislop
 
Solstice winds, rain return in spells
a moon waxes full, dogs howl as well.
 
All the babble of the Souk
men over there, over there women.
 
All the life of the planet
so little part of it that i breathe.
 
Weather beaten highlands, once passed through.
 
The river bed, no more like a parched bone
its late autumnal river meanders as a vein
past four reservoirs
a quest that will end in winter´s flood.
 
Between them are momentary mists
where brightly clad figures of the north, suddenly dim.
 
On the frontier’s beach taxis come, go
only the stranded remain, together with the seagulls
four men huddled, drenched in pouring rain
dead once more, again, all pathways home
washed away, again. A broken song
 
Remember me, sung in a doorway
brings the world at large together
as suddenly as it narrows.
 
~
 
Water runs on marble
nakedness revealed, nakedness concealed
form water words, water memories, mists, fates.
 
Veins wrestle the marble into mangled knots
blemished pearls on an implacable skin
shards leaving fragmentary traces
empty spaces awaiting faces.
 
Lights dance in the night, picturesque
“casas blancas del pueblo”
appear through the darkness
 
as the brush strokes of my mind steal the action of the shadow.
 
Mists cordon the mountain tops
guerdoned crowns like wreathes.
 
Ancient fields’ still colours surrounded
by burgeoning new lead to the valley below.
 
Old women, old as aglow, so slow they go
poised aloof in an untouchable world, trapped.
 
High in kiln firelight they cowl night’s shade
to oversee goats on the hill beneath.
 
Daughters of necessity naked in the rock
unleashed in white trefoil in the marsh
swamp of night rain, stark where epochs
sleep in their shadows.
 
Replication of memories, where the old
becomes the new, a world splits in two
with Morpheus in the breach.
 
Beyond control, beyond reach the erratic butterfly
flits bloom to bloom, the intrepid stalker with net
both captured in the mimic mould.
 
A knot is tied, a knot that wrestles
embraces, that ravels birth
unravels death & binds its existence.
 
~
 
Her face is as if a moon glazed over
with a less serene ceramic dust that in the end
after its perplexity contains its surety.
 
She draws her forefinger laterally across
under her eye lid in a smear
nor can you change the image of what you are
in the pupil of her eye.
 
Babble bodies blur
voices with their echoes down the street
sky high, prices fly
 
a bird song breaks, a splash charade.
 
Faces in the rain thin
weakness of watery years.
 
A winnowing canvass tosses corn
as fireflies in the blazing day.
 
The hag in her rags begs her bag
holding all shadows to account.
 
You sit in the solitary corner
at the empty dice board
to throw, as the music swells, as strings play.
 
On the washing line clothes of all shapes
sizes are waiting to be filled
suspended between earth, sky, where white sheets blow.
 
A twinge of nostalgia flashes
a link between a fluttering curtain
an open window frame, a sun shadow game
a flickering apparition pattern leaving only – strands.
 
A breeze flutters an open foolscap on the table
as though a phantom reader
should flick with regard through a score of notes
then stops at the first blank white sheets
stays, the moving hand that wrote, wrote no more.
 
~
 
On record, old honky-tonk goes on
amidst the heaps of consumer city sneakers
in the same dust where faces
turn from their spring red lustre to a sun soiled wear
 
Through a beehive of alleys
names, aye to fetch them home again
as if where the countless dead resided, you’d said
in a market of women shrouded in shawls.
 
~
 
Berlin falls, Baghdad falls
all the years turn to further tears
further fears to merge with your voyage
the shape of dreams to come
to be only endearments of what has gone before.
 
A flower opens after a thousand years in a shell of tears
indifferent to its beholders’ sight
who paint it with the colours from the waters of their night
on an unknown shore, to whose sight it opened once before.
 
Children’s faces like radiant imps
play carefree in the streets below
overhead on red tiles, fat pigeons bicker, coo.
 
In an internet cafe, an Arab girl discrete in headdress
plays with cartoon molecules of Mickey Mouse
Koala bear
 
nubile women’s faces dream of nudity in their shrouds.
 
Wonky pinz nez specs, jumble sale clothes
bad teeth, unshaven grin
looking a faded duplicate of a down
out James Joyce with the come on
are you Irish, he asks
perhaps he was once upon a time.
 
~
 
They came through the cleft of the mountain
– where the river ran
to swim as a blur in the naked purple of the eye.
 
On the mountain face there is a scar
once a sacred place, now extinct, as they are.
 
Yet wild still she runs, amidst the sheep, goats
toils at the hearth, dutifully bears children
yesterday she knows but not tomorrow
where she hides her sorrow.
 
Even as he ploughs the hillside
a photo will steal his soul, but his beasts will do.
 
~
 
Twilight’s girls, girls, girls
throng the bustling street corners eating caracoles.
 
By day the olive tree green in the blue sky of the window
seems almost immortal enriched with the blood
it’s enriched, now at its roots.
 
Costa de la playa, white beehives in the sun, all money, no honey.
 
In the broken lights of the bazaar
the dusky eyes of the beggar sunk in their sockets
maze in crooked cul de sacs embargo amidst
the furls of silk that foil the flickering lantern niche.
 
In the gloaming a solitary reaper reaps its shadow.
 
Streets packs ravage carcasses
at dawn, the city wakes to the city’s obedience
to obey its disappearing shadows.
 
A ghost city of watchers
watched as shadows by a memory that has outlived them
now fragments in an admixture of old, new
amidst a junk yard of rubble
 
watcher shadows phased captive to their fading stories.
 
The street’s mechanics of the day
obey their limits, patterns of parts
where we end only to start in a series of nows.
 
Post mortem of the world at large
an autopsy of ghosts on the slab.
 
Born to see, in the boutiques people seem
like their own mannequins
existence is a mystery with no purpose

      only we endow it with a destiny, it does not seek from us.


 
 
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..
 
 
 
 
www.facebook.com/PoetryLifeTimes
www.facebook.com/Artvilla.com
robin@artvilla.com
editor@artvilla.com

 
 
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

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