Welcome to |
">
">
">
">
Please leave comments for poets |
Theme: Stepping Stones/Balancing Rocks Upcoming Themes: #246 - Portals anthology (submissions closed) #247 - Mickey Mouse Slept Here: Disney World and other fantasy lands Send poems to stazja@aol.com in body of e mail, left justified. No attachments. On subject line, note the issue number and theme. Include permission to publish. Poets retain all rights. Before the poetry, an announcement that didn't make it into the MAP Austin Poets Guide this week: Friday, August 2 - (Houston) Inprint House, 1524 Sul Ross. 8:30 p.m. First Friday reading series, hosted by Robert Clark. Featured guest: Radames Ortiz, recipient of 2002 Individual Artist Grant from the Cultural Arts Council of Houston/ Harris County. Open mic reading follows. Free. Open to the public. fmi contact Robert Clark at 713-521-3519 or go to www.houstonpoetryfest.org and click on "First Friday" And now, for the poetry. This week's selections include: 1. "Stone Liberation" by Duncan Earle 2. "The Center Stone" by Peg Hill 3. "On The Ball" by K. C. Abaraonye 4. "Delphic Oracle" by Gary Mex Glazner 5. "Just Another Rock" by Lehua Lin 6. "In Practice" by Chuck Rice 7. "Stones (for Janis)" by Gary Blankenship 8. "Stones" by Ruth Rice-Sipila 9. "Five Stones (for Kazi Touré)" by Richard Cambridge 10. "Erroneous life's" by Michael Levy 1. Stone Liberation by Duncan Earle The flinty sentinels of a humbling antiquity rise protectively over our snug moon cave within the granite palisades, a parade of faces in a scale of Titans, upon a sea of Chaparral within the living barrens of hidden exposure holding in eons what must finally emerge as we must finally emerge from the moon light into desert dawn's stark way of illuminating the ceremony of sky-crossed confessions indicated by intent and reaching ocotillos a thousand little moves of the soul's edge unsticking past pains in thorn blood beauty in the vast embrace rocks give, withhold, hold at the moment of light's return, hot gold time swirling like the smoke up the rock face surrounding awakened spirits with strong arms holding the eyes together after fear slips and control has been almost ceded, oh nagual the unburdened desire howls in the silence with an accent of owl hoots, coyote yips echoes ranging far into the needled hard lands me sitting upon a high boulder at bay for when it is truly safe to come out when it is safe to let it all come out timeless until we dissolve into dawn song that we offer up as a toast, a flash somewhere on the path of stone liberation. © Duncan Earle ~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~ 2. The Center Stone by Peg Hill I have found the center stone on which I balance my life, a foundation on which I rest. It does not falter in its mission, holding a soul up to the heavens as man embraces woman to his mind. It rocks with windy days, steadies with contemplation, stays with care when trembling wants to break its purpose, tips when tears flow to make room for more gathering senses of things that were, are and yet to come. Its color reflects the sun in dawn's crispness and rising light suspends noon around my head hugging the warmth. It makes fireflies enchant the night a little more, finds moonlight tales to infuse into lonely times. It is there beside me a hand in mine, leads me to fine dreams, supports my weakness with palms up as an offering, lifts me up to stars so all can see circles around love growing in stages of time. Captures me from going too far off into the distance, tethers me with gossamer strings as a life line. And when I can think of no other words to tell the fullness in me, I remember to gaze upon the sum of me. you. © Margaret Ellis Hill ~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~ 3. On The Ball by K. C. Abaraonye I'm standing on a ball Rolling it with my feet. Soft, it presses into my soles Where it makes a home. It takes me slowly along With a gentle bobbing motion. Our line of travel is not straight But that hardly matters. What is of consequence Is the simple fact that I am upright And keeping my balance for the moment; Better still, I am managing to move. This might not be seen As any great act of wisdom, Or great achievement of mankind, But there is no denying That I am enjoying myself. My smile is wide and beaming, My concentration rapt; The success is only for seconds But it sets my spirit alight. This, then, is my genius. From the collection 'Dance Between Two Armies Vol. 1 - "Quiet Conversations"' © 1996-1999 K. C. Abaraonye ~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~ 4. Delphic Oracle by Gary Mex Glazner The Oracle is gone. She has left the rocks as prophets. They know the yellow of the sun's sour heat. What trees drink. The immovable rocks are spewing forth their nonsense; I'll interpret. They are disgusted by the lack of air. They await the rebirth of breath. Sounding voices of the nations of the world. They understand every tongue. They speak the silence between languages. Sweeping away the dirt from your grave, I touch the granite above your bones. In the valley of Delphi, you came back to die. You loved the fabric of this land. Wove your own cloth of light and myth. You are not the Oracle, although your seed is buried with her. I have so many questions, if I started to ask, I would also lie down forever. Live as these rocks live. See the future they see. © Gary 'Mex" Glazner ~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~ 5. Just Another Rock by Lehua Lin Waltzing a circle endlessly spinning slowly, the dragon turns and twists to catch its tail of sparkle-barbs and bits of poison... dripping. Heavy lids frame moonlit eyes with irises of flames. Dancing, the dragon leaps... mountains shudder. Life...screams, running in circles! Yet, it is but one more year on this wet blue rock caged between the dragon's claws. © Lehua Lin ~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~ 6. In Practice by Chuck Rice A gang of hard crusty leaves rolled down an empty street with the heels of their stems clicking against the asphalt like gunfire. The wind, scared to even breathe over the sun, just watched as it bled down into the gauze clouds. I alone am left grieving the loss of another day, paid off in third world currency of inflated memories, (weather counterfeit or authentic, I cannot ultimately determine) and a handful of "I owe you"s called tomorrow. I stand, as blindfolded, balancing with one foot, on the single step-stone of now amid eternity's vast ocean of uncertainty, poised to step on sheer water. How ironic, to scoff at the notion of living by faith. © Chuck Rice ~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~ 7. Stones (for Janis) by Gary Blankenship I kick stones down the driveway with my slippers on the way to get the mail, a child trapped inside. I tossed stones over the pond on the far side of the south pasture, Washington with a dirty face - dollar bills across the Delaware, Sergeant Rock with a runny nose - rockets across the DMV, General Grant in short pants - messages by pigeon from Shiloh a slight kid throwing rocks across a muddy water hole. I skipped stones on the lake a short hike north of town, flat rocks best for three hops, four, even five to impress Rosie, visiting from West Virginia with her Aunt Ora, but if I skipped four, Rosie could do five, always one more until she got bored and went for a swim in her underwear, a skinny teen who could not swim left on the shore. Hand in hand with Sharon, I collected stones on the shore of Dogfish Bay, spiral designs, mica flakes, red and brown agates with salmon, bear and elk captured on their surface to sit with teacups and cut glass, be our worry stones, hold doors open, gather dust in an unused fountain, and remind me of when I was a skinny boy and walked hand in hand with Sharon before I become an old man too tired to gather the rocks and place them on Sharon's grave where they belong. © Gary Blankenship "Stones" first appeared #15 of San Gabriel poetry ~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~ 8. Stones by Ruth Rice-Sipila i have languished at her knees, lain my head upon her rocky lap, i have spilled my tears as stones before her and asked, will you show me the way? the desert harbors a great sadness, for, she cannot feed her children, and hears their echoes as chimes in the evening, soft in the breeze. oh, mother, can you hear me? i have dressed my self in the feathers of your choice, i have coated my skin in ocher and ash, i have danced for days beneath a setting sun, calling nothing but your name. where are my people? i will lay my head between her breasts of stone, where the oak reaches for heaven, there, i hear the voices, the children of the desert, my spirit siblings calling me home. © Ruth Rice-Sipila a/k/a pix1035 ~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~ 9. Five Stones by Richard Cambridge for Kazi Touré "When David went forth to slay Goliath, he gathered five stones." So began the Sunday morning sermon. "Why five," some smart-ass in the congregation said. "If he trusted God, he needed just one." "You never know," the preacher responded. "Goliath may have brothers." In the woods behind the field where we planted seed potatoes, there's a pool where the stream swells and stops to catch its breath. When everyone had left we stayed behind, I, in the water, and you, upon the rocks, and we began to gather stones- flat ones- for to skip them upstream. I thought I had the advantage, waist-deep in the water, but you, off-balance, let the first one fly- five skips! the next stone- seven! -twelve! I thought of why we were here- planting potatoes, squash, onions- planting seeds of consciousness- political prisoners in America Carmen Valentín, Herman Bell, Ruchell Magee, Dylcia Pagán the fastest growing tuber- Alicia & Luz Rodriguez, Thomas Manning, Oscar Lopez Rivera- Nearly two hundred varieties- Leonard Peletier, Marilyn Buck, Mumia Abu-Jamal Can you swallow that? I thought of your own ten years- seditious conspiracy for trying to overthrow the government of the United States- how, for your defense you said a conspiracy of one is impossible! but they sent you up anyway; and how I laughed when you said it wasn't a lie to say you were ten years younger than you were. The years been stolen from you. I thought of all the ones I knew that had been gunned-down by government thugs, and as we left for the field I gathered five stones from the stream-bed, for in our age, Goliath definitely has brothers. © Richard Cambridge (The Victory Garden Project uses the planting, harvesting and free distribution of vegetables to bring awareness of political prisoners in the U.S.) ~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~ 10. Erroneous life's by Michael Levy You wear your fear as a fountainhead of correctness, But, are you sure of it's authenticity, perhaps some doubt? Is dread your honey, your sweetie pie, or do you loathe it? Conceivably; distrust of nature may persist, Gnaw away at old bones of contention, They are quite bare by now Tissue `n sinew succumbed to sins view. Alas; time erodes even fear, Erroneous thoughts can't be depended upon much longer, Soon; All too soon, it will evaporate, Then; only one true memory will be left, Will it be the heart you carved on a tree when you were nine? © Micheal Levy ~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~ Grateful thanks to all contributors. Welcome new readers. Anyone wanting off the mailing list, send blank e mail to mapofaustinpoetry-unsubscribe@yahoogroups.com. AOL members, e me at stazja@aol.com. The MAP and featured poetry supplements are posted online at: The Poets' Porch: www.poetsporch.com Austin Metro: www.austinmetro.com/poetpage.html groups.yahoo.com/group/mapofaustinpoetry Austin International Poetry Festival: aipf.org Much love, Stazja |
