Divided… divided between humilityand disastrous egosreceiving in the plexus his owngroan reflected in wordshe – a precious spicetaken out on special daysfor the hunt on the platter –reminds youwhen it is not the case:I am the poet! . împărţit… împărţit între umilinţăşi orgolii dezastruoaseprimind în plex propriulvaier răsfrînt de cuvinteel – un condiment preţiosscos de…
by Maria Magdalena Biela Romanian poetry represents an integral part of European literature. However, it is vastly unexplored. Linguistic researchers, translators, readers, and historians have not truly discovered and adequately documented the history of Romanian Literature. Such an amputation of an important part of world literature defeats the universal culture. In the space between the…
Inside My Mother’s Ring Smooth like her face, an owl of beginningsit stayed on her finger the last six-month road like rain from a tree, a dream wrestlingas they turned her body over in the washing as if she could mend, the gold to re-moldlike her red face and tears at my wedding worn on…
The Boar With Silver Fangs A Prince from Levant in love with the huntingthrough dark forest’s heart was making his way,For finding his path through the bushes hard fighting,was playing his bone flute and to his men he’d say: Let’s go for the hunt in the deep wildernessthe hunt of the wild boar with silvery…
Book Title: What’s Wrong with us Kali Women?Author: (Author): Anita NahalPublisher and Date: Kelsay Books (August 9, 2021)Reviewer: Megha Sood This riveting collection of seventy prose poems exposes the artful mastery of lyrical intensity seeded in Nahal’s poetic craft through which she brilliantly brings out the spectrum of human emotions. The poet speaks with razor-sharp clarity and a deep…
Random Acts of Silence My mother has characterized my birthhighly inauspiciousthe lunar antithesis of some anticipatedcataclysmic event. She has bluntly recounted over timemy forthcoming’s secondary naturevoid of fore-thought, reasonpreparation or rhyme. My modest realm distains those systemsenviously circling about my head.My throne extinct of thunderous extrusionsquietly rests in place of known dread. Impacted by her…
Rice Pudding in the Praterstrasse We were living between heaven and hell literally,we were slender, nervous, we’d silenceeach other with a silky tenderness,we’d wipe our nightmares,we’d make our beds, our boots,we’d go skating on goddamn ice of life.Sometimes we’d notice reality.Then something would squatin the darkest corner of the houseand would begin to whimper in…
A Gust of Wind Curtains are being blown in:asailing boat has crushed into our room,it filled the air with the sea,with blue salt. Parquet on the deck.Salty splashes on the papered walls…Wind with a rose in its teeth,like with a naval boarding sword,had toppled the vase overand is climbing up the carpet.A split second –…
Thirtha 11 The bus conductor thunders, “Haaji Ali,”above the muezzin’s pitch, above cymbals clashingaround the corner by the jasmine vendors. I wait among garish women on a ribbon of road at the head of the bay,where double-decker buses hurtle into town, the domerising behind me, white and gleaming at low tide.Crows and gulls wing about, searching.On…
HOME Home is not a country or postcode,more a state of mind, keeper of the map of my world – offering a hint of the distance between myselfand the silence out there, the way life reaches for light, and rays leaning like ladders against the skyinvest my journey with meaning. The universe never seems to…
In the Church of Adele She sings of love’s suffering,the plaintive cries of separation, of shattered hearts, the sad, shuffling parting and regrets of ill-placed dedication, of passion soured by time, his or her dreams crushed by love’sbrutal demise. So good in fact, she packs great halls and stadiums with devotees swaying to every sound, for all at one time…
Being Late (Poem of the Month) They said you were usually lateto school. So, one day last weekI followed you, finding out why: You stood back & sighedas you watched a young duck familycrossing the road—stepping in to save their lives by watching out for cars. Then,when you appeared before the fountain in the mini-park, you noticed the orange…
