Poetry from Greece - Zanneta Kalyva-Papaioannou

I also received a new book from another Greek poet, Zanneta Kalyva-Papaioannou, from Helioupolis. The books name is A life's notes, with translations in English by Zacharoula Gaitanaki.

A life's notes has 10 poems in English. They all treat the theme of love from the female point of view. Zanneta expresses her sensitivity both as a lover and as a mother. In her poetry she addresses always the "you" who can be a lover and a child. Her language is simple but beautiful, honest and clear as nature and Spring. Hers is an example of positive poetry, treating positive sentiments. Many poems are linked to particular spaces such as Paros' Island, Varkiza and Dilophos.

Poems by Zanneta:

SPRING

Now, that you arrived Spring

and nature is flourishing,

now, that you arrived Spring

and the flower blooms,

love started again

to rouse us.

Bees fly

from flower to flower,

gather the scent

and treat us honey.

The scent of flowers

make us wake up,

love caught us

and we are all... in love!!!

TOGETHER on the MOUNTAIN

Together on the mountain

we met one day,

we were wandering,

picking the best wild flowers.

We were playing with a daisy

"you love me?" "you don't love me"

but I'll always remember

when you started kissing me.

You were telling me tender, beautiful

and teasing words.

I passed my time joyfully

and I felt loving you much more.

More poems from Eftichia Kapardeli (Greece)

Some weeks ago I received more post from Greek poet Eftichia Kapardeli. I feel very near people like Eftichia, Zacharoula Gaitanaki, Zanneta Kalyva-Papaioannou, Stathis Grivas, Nickos Batsikanis and other Greek poets, perhaps because we are people from the Mediterranean or because both countries (Greece and Malta) have an important historical background, or because there is a kind of familiarity between all of us, even though we never met personally, for the time being.

Above right: St. Andrious Cathedral (the New and the Old), Patras

Below right: Kalogria - Gianniskari

The following are some other poems of Eftichia translated from Greek to English:

CHILDREN'S EYES

The houses of the city tightened

the snow in the roofs stretched out

two lights in the end of the street

two children's eyes

they read the shades

of the persons who were passing

the smell of bread unfolds in air

Thousands of stretched out hands

Thousands of children's eyes asking it.

(Dedicated to the children who have no food)

A POEM

Snow... the last

white flakes

fall on the earth

Castaways resemble

in deserted beach

and the sea white blood

Photos from Chadwick Lakes and nearby (Malta)

Above right: The Medieval city of Mdina

Fortunately we had plenty of rainy days this winter. Chadwick Lakes are special during such wet winters as they make Malta resemble more European countryside rather than North African dry wastelands. Usually tourists say that Malta is yellow and made of stone, no trees. However, wet winters and springs prove the opposite.

The Maltese Islands countryside is also full of wayside chapels. For those interested visit:

www.kappellimaltin.com (in Maltese);

http://www.malta-canada.com/churches-chapels/index-Chap.htm (in English)

Intervistat Alfred Palma: poeta u traduttur.

(Fir-ritratt Alfred Palma jidher quddiem il-kappella fejn hu midfun Dante Alighieri, f'Ravenna, Settembru 2008).

1. Il-Malti Semitiku u s-sistema trilittera (ezempju mrabbat flok marbut). Kemm sibthom utli l-aktar fit-traduzzjonijiet tieghek?

Il-Malti Semitku hu ghani hafna, u llum bosta minnu m’ghadniex
nuzawh. Lili dan il-vokabularju vast gheni hafna, l-aktar fit-trad-
uzzjoni tad-Divina Commedia, naturalment minhabba l-istess element
arkajk tieghu. Izda dejjem qghadt attent li fir-rimi dejjem nuza bosta
vokali, biex b’hekk inzomm l-armonija Semitika-Maltija fit-test u dik
Romantika-Taljana fir-rima; b’hekk nemmen li hloqt bilanc ideali bejn
iz-zewg ilsna, Malti u Taljan, u nhoss ukoll li fix-xoghol tradott baqghet
issaltan l-atmosfera tal-grajja nfisha u taz-zmien li fih sehhet, biex
hekk bqajt fidil lejn l-awtur u xoghlu u fl-istess waqt tajt gieh u seddaqt
il-Letteraura Maltija. Is-sistema trilittera dejjem uzajtha fejn hassejt li
kien jaqbel, l-aktar fejn kelli accenti li kienu jaqghu hazin jew jinstemghu
stunati fuq kelma u b’hekk jaghmlu l-vers kollu inqas muzikali milli
dejjem fittixt li naghmlu.

2. Fit-traduzzjonijiet tieghek taghti piz lill-element Semitiku jew lil dak Rumanz l-aktar? Ghaliex?

Tajthom piz tista’ tghid kwazi ndaqs, ghax hassejt li f’xoghol hekk
ggantesk il-bilanc kien essenzjali. Dan jghodd l-aktar ghad-Divina
Commedia u ghad-drammi ta’ Shakespeare; izda fix-xoghlijiet ta’
Wilde u ta’ Voltaire kelli naghfas l-aktar fuq ir-romantiku. Ma tista’
bl-ebda mod tittraduci lil Wilde b’Malti Semitiku ghax tinholoq atmos-
fera letterarja inverosimili, kemm fix-xoghol letterarju nnifsu, u aktar
u aktar f’dik li hi epoka. Barra minn hekk, dejjem fejn jidhol Wilde,
certa sofistikagni titlob hafna l-Malti Romantiku, l-aktar fejn jidhlu l-
battuti celebri ta’ dan l-awtur. L-istess nista’ nghid ghall-Candide ta’
Voltaire.

3. Ghal Palma kif jintrabtu flimkien poezija, muzika u pittura?

Il-poezija, il-muzika u l-pittura huma t-tliet Arti li ddominawli hajti. l-
aktar li taffettwani artistikament hija l-muzika, u kwazi kull poezija li
ktibt kemm ili haj dejjem twieldet minn xi bicca muzika. Peress li
ndoqq il-pjanu u iffissat fuq Chopin, ma jistax jonqos li l-muzika hi
l-pern ta’ kulma nohloq artistikament. Dan jghodd ukoll ghall-pittura.
Meta tigini l-muza ghall-pittura, inkun irrid il-muzika f’widnejja
sahanasitra biex nohloq it-tonalita’ ta’ l-ilwien; u minn dawn l-ilwien
imbaghad naf nislet aktar poezija, li aktarx inkompli nirfinaha b’aktar
muzika. Ghax tabilhaqq, ghalija dawn it-tliet Arti huma tliet ahwa
kapriccuzi li kemm-il darba habbtuni u kwazi gennewni; izda wara
dejjem sibthom bhala katarsi ghall-istess tbatija li jkunu holquli.

4. Xi tfisser tkun awtodidatta?

Awtodittata – certi talenti jitwieldu ma’ dak li jkun; u dan japplika bil-
bosta fejn tidhol l-Arti. Nghid ghalija sa minn meta kont ghadni tifel
zghir kont inhoss gibda naturali lejn it-tpingija; kif nara pjanu kont
intir fuqu u nittanat nsib l-armonija halli ndoqq xi haga, l-istess il-
poezija, kont inhossha go mohhi, bir-ritmi u l-accenti b’kollox; l-
iskola kont nissahhar bit-traduzzjoni, u nhossha ga maqluba ghall-
Malti: kemm innizzilha. Dan kollu, flimkien mal-fissazzjoni li ghandi
bil-qari ippermettewli li nkun hieles u b’hekk inkompli nirfina dak li
tatni n-natura bla ma nersaq lejn l-ebda Universit¿, ghajr dik tal-
Hajja li, fil-fehma tieghi, ma thallilek ebda ittri wara ismek, izda
taghtik is-sodisfazzjon uniku tal-originalit¿.

5. Dik tal-kittieb hija fuq kollox hajja ta' qari u sagrificcju. Kemm hu minnu dan?

Nahseb li jekk hawn xi hadd li jista’ jitkellem fuq is-sagrificcju huwa
jien. Sa mill-bidu tal-karriera letterarja tieghi, u sewwasew ghax
qatt ma rfist fl-ebda Universit¿, l-intellettwali Maltin, li hargu minn
hemm iperrcu l-ittri wara isimhom, ma setghu qatt igerrghu l-fatt li jien
kelli nidhol ghat-traduzzjoni tad-Divina Commedia , u meta stamp-
ajtha, fl-1991 (spejjez tieghi, naturalment), dawn l-istess nies halfu li
jinjorawni ghal kollox. L-istess f’Shakespeare u f’kulma bdejt nittra-
duci. Ghajnuna minn Stat, Banek, Azjendi? Xejn. Ftaqart biex nippub-
blika xoghlijieti. Izda qatt ma qtajt qalbi; anzi l-ghira ta’ dawn l-
indivdwi issoktat taghmilli l-kuragg u, minkejja li baqghu dejjem
jinjorawni, il-premju tas-sagrificcji kollha tieghi hadtu sewwasew f’
Ravenna, l-Italja, meta s-sena l-ohra, bit-traduzzjoni tieghi tad-Divina
Commedia , isem Malta zdied ma’ dawk tal-pajjizi l-ohra li ghandhom
dan il-kapolavur tradott fl-lingwa taghhom.


6. Ghalik personali x'inhi l-mira tal-vera letteratura?

Il-vera letteratura ghandha tkun primarjament Arti; li tpaxxi kemm
lil ruh l-awtur u kemm lil dawk li jaqrawh. Ghandha sservi kemm
bhala taghlim u kemm bhala divertiment. Hi x’inhi l-letteratura: poezija,
drama, traduzzjoni, novella ecc. fiha ghandu jkun hemm messagg,
l-awtur jaghmel dmiru li jeduka, u l-qarrej ghandu jikseb ghallinqas
xi ftit tal-gid minn dak li jaqra. Jiena nemmen li kotba jew letteratura
li tinqara b’obbligu, bhalma mill-istudenti bhala parti mill-kurrikulu,
ftit li xejn thalli frott. Wara kollox, l-Arti mhux kulhadd ihobbha u
japprezzaha, u dizgrazzjatament, minhabba certa apatija sistem-
atika, f’Malta il-kultura hadet diksata sewwa ‘l isfel. L-Arti letterarja,
bhalma f’kull fergha ta’ Arti li wiehed jista’ jimmagina, inhakmet
mill-kilba materjalistika ta’ certi awturi u pubblikaturi li, aktar mil-
leteratura per se, ifittxu biss li jdawru lira. U min jirnexxilu jidhol
f’certi crieki jgawdi u jiffanga, u haddiehor jibqa’ jcejjaq. B’hekk din
l-Arti hekk nobbli issa saret tista’ tghid wahda kummercjali, mili ‘l
boghod mill-ispiritwalita’ li suppost) izzejjinha.


7. Il-kitba li m'ghandhiex piz morali, li ma timmirax biex ittejjeb b'xi mod lill-qarrej, hi letteratura? X'tahseb dwar din it-tip ta' letteratura li qieghda wkoll tigi ppremjata anki lokalment?

Bhal kull hag‘ohra fil-hajja hemm letteratura tajba u letteratura
hazina. Issa drajna li l-Arti kollha minn mindu bdiet tissejjah
moderna, saret taghraf aktar lill-artist (jew lill-psewdo artist) milli
x-xoghol tieghu. Jekk pittur, awtur, muzicist illum jiehu certa fama,
allura xoghlu jilhaq il-quccata artistika, jaghmel isem u l-flus; izda
dan ma jfissirx li x-xoghol hu necessarjament artistiku. Kif ghidt,
illum l-arti kollha cediet (ukoll) ghall-kummercjalizmu sfrenat; u jekk
awtur ikun ‘jirrendi’ ghall-pubblikatur, allura kulma jaghmel, ukoll
jekk ikun kollox barra letteratura (jew hi x’inhi l-Arti) ikun apprezzat
u, kif ghidt tajjeb int, anki jigi ippremjat.


(Frar 2009)

A young poet from India: Ninad Bhangle

I have received a comment directly from Mumbai by an 18 year old student, blogger and poet. I visited his blog: www.ninadbhangle.blogspot.com and must admit that I soon loved what I read. Ninad seem to be a reflective, pensive, sensitive, sincere being, and is still not corrupted by ambition, power and egoism. His verse is about love, altruism, but also poverty and backstabbing. Ninad writes about different aspects of life and this he does regularly. He calls a spade a spade.

I'll be uploading some of his verse and a photo as soon as I'll have his permission.

More photos from a sister island: Gozo

Xlendi Bay during a windy day in winter is almost deserted. However, being there is a real blessing as one feels part of nature.

The countryside in winter is very pleasant and green. Rainfall these last weeks was abundant and so islanders can experience many magical corners, especially in Gozo.

The salt pans in Qbajjar Bay near Marsalforn.

Salt is still collected in sacks and left to dry in nearby caves.

Gozo is also the island of contrasting colours and forms which go back many centuries in time. Many a writer or poet find refuge and inspiration on this small and peaceful island.

Interview from South Africa - poet Amitabh Mitra

1. How does Amitabh Mitra reconcile medicine, poetry and printing? Is there a balance between the three activities or does one or more of them rule over the others?

Medicine is Science and therefore it has certain laid down rules which one has to follow, it could be an art if one is allowed to play with it which only a few in developed countries do in terms of research. As a trauma surgeon, I deal with violence and aftermath of extreme violence in my daily work. Medicine becomes a chain of events that follow. Poetry and Publishing on the other hand are creative involvements which need words, color and images in a vivid realm. There are no balances, just changing of hats and clicking the mind to different superhighways.

2. Both medicine and poetry are a vocation. How do you react to such a statement?

Medicine is a vocation, it chose me. Poetry can be a vocation only up to a certain limit as words cannot fulfill the desires till the end, it is then the poet goes on to the next step of indulging in visual arts and the cinema.
A short poetry film-
http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=2ujbrnXdXHM

3. Can you describe Gwalior, and the place where you live in the present?

Gwalior is my home town, a small town in Central India, littered with palaces, forts and royal intrigues. I remain a part of that landscape.
One of my art and poem on Gwalior

http://poetsprintery.book.co.za/blog/2009/01/10/gwalior/

I stay in East London which is in South Africa
A poem on South Africa

http://www.boloji.com/poetry/3001-3100/3037.htm

4. Amitabh Mitra, South Africa and sources of inspiration?

South Africa is a young democracy, multicolored in a variety of hues. The contemporary literature movement here has the varied ethnicity one expects, very similar to the literature movement in India with its variety of languages, colors and traditions.

5. You are also editor of New York based Poetry magazine “A Hudson View” which specializes in free verse and abstraction. What is the genesis of this publication, its objectives and its contributors?

‘A Hudson View’ is an international print poetry journal being published by Victoria Valentine in New York, USA. Victoria herself a well known writer and poet also publishes Skyline Review and the Literary House which she edits too. ‘A Hudson View’ is printed simultaneously in USA and South Africa. As its editor, I have encouraged the free verse form and abstraction, ‘landscape poetry’ becomes limited for any poet to a certain stage. We are proud to publish relatively unknown poets from the US, UK, Europe, Southern Africa, Middle East and SAARC countries. We actively participate in poetry festivals worldwide.

6. Amitabh also seems to have found a twin artistic expression together with poetry, painting. How do poetry and painting complement each other for Amitabh?

I illustrate my poems which gives the much needed visual effect a poem needs. It allows you to read the poem again and again.
An Example
http://poetsprintery.book.co.za/blog/2009/01/25/waiting/

7. Internet: a blessing or an obstacle for poets and literature lovers?

I believe Internet is more than a blessing. We could publish poets who could never have been published before the internet revolution. Yes, we still need the print but cyber literature is here to stay.

8. How is Amitabh Mitra as a person, and how does he occupy a normal day?

Poetry, Poetry, Poetry………


9. Last question: love is one of the themes you write about in your poetry. Another theme is the past and memories. Can you elaborate some more about your themes?

I write only Love Poetry because it is the poetry of the man on the street, it is the poetry of strangers and it is the poetry crossing global barriers of caste creed and religion. Love poetry is bliss, for the poet who creates and for the reader who reads it.

Dear poet Amitah Mitra, many thanks for your sincere answers.

See also: http://poetsprintery.book.co.za/blog/2009/02/06/an-interview-with-patrick-sammut/

Intervista mal-poeta zaghzugh Andrew Sciberras

(1) X’igaghlek tikteb il-poezija? Kif tiddeskrivi lil poeta? Il-poeta ghandu responsabbiltajiet fis-socjeta`?

Għalija li nikteb il-poeżija huwa bżonn. Jiġu waqtiet f’ħajti li ma nkunx nista’ nrażżan lili nnifsi u bilfors ikolli naqbad f’idejja karta u pinna biex nikteb l-eqqel emozzjonijiet. Fil-fehma tiegħi l-akbar poeta hu Alla, u l-kapolavur tiegħu huwa l-univers. Kull ħlejqa taħt il-kappa tax-xemx trid iġġarrab xi forma jew oħra ta’ tbatija, u dan hu l-misteru tal-eżistenza. Għalhekk il-poeżija tinkiteb biss bid-demm. Jien nemmen li l-poeta ma jistax jibqa’ indifferenti quddiem it-tbatija. Huwa għandu jkun il-leħen ta’ dawk kollha li qed ibatu fis-silenzju. Kellna u għad għandna poeti li għax kitbu kontra kull forma ta’ inġustizzja, batew u għadhom qed ibatu f’ħajjithom. Il-versi tagħhom huma bħal stallett li jferi fil-laħam il-ħaj.

(2) Mill-Ezilju ta’ Ruhi hi r-raba’ antologija poetika li qed tippubblika. Kif twieldet fik din il-kilba biex tikteb il-poezija?

Bdejt inħarbex l-ewwel versi tiegħi meta kont għadni żagħżugħ. Kien il-mibki poeta Carmel Attard li wara li kont urejtu xi xogħol tiegħi kien ħeġġiġni biex nippubblikah. Illum għall-grazzja t’Alla ppubblikajt ir-raba’ antoloġija tiegħi.

(3) Din l-ahhar gabra poetika tieghek kif tvarja minn dawk ta’ qabilha? Hemm sens ta’ kontinwita`?

Bħalma l-ħajja hija vjaġġ li għandha l-proċess naturali tagħha, anki l-poeżija taqa’ taħt dawn l-istess regoli. Il-kontinwità tinsab f’kull ħaġa li titħarrek.

(4) Il-poezija tieghek ixxaqleb lejn il-kumpless u tirrikjedi bagalja kulturali wiesgha biex tinftiehem. Xi tghid dwar dan u x’tahseb dwar il-poezija semplici u diretta?

Dan l-element duwalista tal-kumpless u s-sempliċi mhuwa xejn għajr munita b’żewġt uċuħ. Ħu l-ħajja tal-bniedem, tevolvi mis-sempliċità u timxi lejn il-kumplessità, u finalment, terġa’ lura lejn is-sempliċità. Ċiklu interminabbli li kull essri jrid iġarrab.
Kull forma t’arti fosthom il-poeżija tidħol f’dan il-kwadru, li hu suġġett ta’ din il-liġi naturali.

(5) Inti temmen fil-kitba tal-poezija bhala espressjoni artistika biss, jew thoss li ghandha ggorr fiha messagg ta’ xi tip?

Il-kittieb qed jgħix f’epoka li irrevokabbilment huwa suġġett għaliha. Jekk toqgħod tqis, tintebaħ li hija insinifikanti meta tpoġġiha f’dan l-univers tant vast u fl-istess ħin misterjuż. Kif għidt l-ewwel il-poeta għandu jkun il-leħen ta’ dawk kollha li qed ibatu fis-silenzju, u mhux qed neskludi l-annimali. Fl-annimali Alla ħalla l-marka tiegħu li mhi xejn għajr l-imħabba. Wieħed mir-rwoli tal-poeta hu li bi vrusu għandu jwassal messaġġ ta’ ġustizzja soċjali. Il-poeta għandu jkun il-politiku li mhux f’partit politiku. Fuq kollox nemmen li jekk kittieb – bniedem ma jafx għeruqu, la jaf fejn qiegħed u wisq anqas triqtu. Sfortunatament, ħafna Maltin ma jafux għeruqhom u għalhekk jinsabu fi sqaq mudlam.

(6) Xi tghid dwar il-qasam tal-poezija hawn Malta? U x’tahseb dwar l-Ghaqdiet tal-Malti?

Wasal iż-żmien li l-klikek jinqatgħu darba għal dejjem. Xi wħud jaħsbu li huma omnipotenti u omnisapjenti. Għandna għaqdiet li qed jaħdmu għal rashom. L-awturi jridu jaħdmu flimkien u jaqsmu l-esperjenzi tagħhom jekk veru rridu li l-letteratura tagħna tkompli tistagħna. Wasal il-waqt li xi ħadd jieħu l-inizjattiva li joħloq forum letterarju fuq l-internet fejn il-kittieba jkunu jistgħu jaqsmu xogħlijiethom u jwasslu l-letteratura lil dawk li jużaw dan is-servizz. Naħseb li tkun idea tajba li jinfetaħ post fejn il-kittieba jkunu jistgħu jiltaqgħu bejniethom. F’dan il-post għandu jkun hemm għad-dispożizzjoni dawk il-kotba li ġew ippubblikati biex jintużaw mill-kittieba u mill-pubbliku. Imma l-aktar ħaga importanti hi li nagħtu aktar spazju lill-kittieba żgħażagħ jekk irridu nkomplu nseddqu l-letteratura Maltija.


(7) Fl-antologiji poetici tieghek dejjem tinkludi ghadd ta’ ritratti ta’ certu livell estetiku. Ghaliex dan?

Kull forma t’arti tista’ tippenetra sal-ibgħad irkejjen ta’ ruħ il-bniedem, u dan huwa aktar minn biżżejjed. Jien nemmen li kull forma t’arti toħroġ mill-istess sors, bħal meta għandek siġra bi zkuk differenti, u hawnhekk qed nitkellem fuq ruħ il-bniedem. Id-differenza tinsab biss fil-medjum li juża l-artist. Wasalna fl-assurdità li rridu nippremjaw il-poeżija, imma dan il-fattur ma jissorprendini xejn għax is-sistema qed tħaddan dawn il-kriterji għal bosta raġunijiet. Hekk kif barri jinqatel naqra naqra mill-matador, dan qed jiġri lil ruħ il-bniedem.

(8) Xi tghid dwar l-originalita` fuq naha u l-influwenzi diretti jew indiretti ta’ poeti ohrajn li jixirfu fil-versi ta’ min jikteb fuq in-naha l-ohra, fil-qasam tal-poezija?

Kif għidt l-ewwel taħt il-kappa tax-xemx m’hawn xejn ġdid. Biex nagħti eżempju jien u kittieba bikrija ktibna f’epoka u f’kuntest soċjo-politiku differenti. Rajna d-dinja mil-lenti tagħna, sawwarna kitbietna fuq dak kollu li qanqalna u influwenzana, u wzajna l-għodod li kellna għad-dispożizzjoni. Imma jekk tifli sew taħt il-qoxra, tintebaħ li l-bniedem-poeta tal-bieraħ u tal-lum baqa’ dak li jaħseb, iħoss u jġarrab. Iż-żmien ma neżżagħlux il-libsa tal-umanità tiegħu. Il-bniedem baqa’ bniedem.

Interview with poet Arbind Kumar Choudhary from India

1. I must admit that I found the language you use in your poetry quite different from the usual form . Could you please elaborate a bit ?

A.K.C: Free expressions and free thoughts are celestial fires that compel me to adopt a novel style rather than others style howsoever mighty legends they might be at the literary horizon.
Secondly, my heart does not allow to be a mere puppets of the different literary traditions prevalent amidst the creative milieu across the globe . Thirdly , literary tempo, novel thought and poetic wisdom make a poet different from others.

2. What about the large number of exclamation marks and apostrophes in your poem ? An I right to say that yours is also a poetry of protest ,irony, a poetry which wants to make things move and change ?

A.K.C: The large number of exclamation marks and apostrophes symbolize each moment of breath people inhale for sake of life. The massage of my poetic paysage is not only to savage the wage of the earthly cage but also to arouse sensations and literary whirlwind amidst the human beings as a whole.Exploration,innovation,sensation and imagination are the poetic pearls through which I expect changes in the existing pattern of society.

3. How do you react to this statement?Chaudhary’s poetry is midway between being simple and complex at the same time.”

A.K.C: No doubt my poetry is midway between being simple and complex at the same time.But my poetry is near simplicity rather than complexity.Simplicity of languages, words, expressions etc is my poetic parlance through which complexity is avoided for sake of muse lovers.To convert complexity in to simplicity is the poetic quality of first water.

4. Do you believe that poetry should be only a play of words and art for arts sake,or bear only a message,or both?

A.K.C: The portry is neither a play of words nor art for art’s sake. The muser is for words what wind hover is for small birds. My poetic massage is such bride that becomes a glittering star amidst the wedding parties of words, arts, and techniques .In other words one can say that these wedding parties accompanied with words, techniques, arts and many more in the disguise of poetic trimming multiply the intensity of the poetic beauty.But how to make a bridge with these things is the part and parcel things poets must be acquainted with.

5. Do poets in India have their organizations, publishers and publications where to voice to their poetry? Some examples?

A.K.C: Though there are a number of literary organizations, publishers and literary journals working separately at many places in many languages in India,yet the situation is not satisfactory for the poets in general and peeping poets in particular.
Having gone through their earnest desires I laid the foundation of two international literary associations: International Association of Poets,Essayists and Novelists(2006) and International Haiku Association(2008)(www.kohinoorjournal.com) in India and started voicing the poets through KOHINOOR, a bi-annual international literary journal from January 2007 onwards.My another bi-annual journal AYUSH is going to be launched from January 2009 .The I.A.P.E.N. publication has also started publishing poetry collections. Here is a list of some other publications:

i) Writers Workshop,Kolkata
ii) International Poets Academy, Chennai
iii) The Home of Letters,Orissa
iv) Prakash Book Depot,Bareilly
v) Poetcrit Publication,H.P
vi) Skylark Publication,Aligarh
vii) Poets Foundation ,Kolkata
viii) Others.

However there is a great challenge for me how to unite and work under one parental organization.

6. From where does Arbind Choudhary get his poetic inspiration?

A.K.C: Spontaneous overflow of divine feelings, sensations and suffering humanities are the things that fire my poetic imagination to its utmost degree inspite of the muddy surroundings I belong .Anuradha ,my sweet heart, also adds fuel to the flames of poetic fire from time to time .The bliss of solitude and sting of the critics enhance my poetic intensity for innovation and exploration.

7. As a human being and as a poet ,which things in life are most important for Arbind Choudhary ?

A.K.C: To be a human being without poetic pigment is like a soulless flesh. To be a poet is better because my love lies in poetry rather than elsewhere.To mould the fetor into an odour is the celestial fire of the muser,times best jewel.The ether of the poetic zether is the fetor if does not replace the fusty of nebulosity in favour of celectial odour across the globe.The poetic paysage pierces the paling hearts,sooths the solitude and stirs sensations for purifications .My maiden wife in life is poetry.

8. Arbind Choudhary and India : things that he loves, things that he wants to see improved ? How do you see India in the future economy wise and culture wise .

A.K.C: The thing I love at utmost degree in India is her cultural prosperity Indians have had from the last five thousand years. The matter I want to see improved is emotional sufferings of Tom. Dick and Harry. Surprisingly, poets protest against disparity of penury rather than emotional precocity through their pitta paysage .
To gain prosperity in penuniary at the feretory of cultural prosperity will really be a pyrrhic victory for the Indians where fragrance of the hilarity will be worse than the pong of the penury. So prosperity achieved at the cost of cultural extinction will be fatal for all.
Sangam Culture that removes precocity will flourish in future in India .
I have little hesitation while I declare that India is going to be a super economic power up to the mid of this century.

Arbind Kr Choudhary, Founding father, I.A.P.E.N&I.H.A.I, India

http://www.kohinoorjournal.com/

Dear poet Arbind Kumar Choudhary, a big THANKS for your cooperation and patience.

Death of Eddie Two Rivers

Teresinka Pereira has just sent an e-mail informing us about the death of a poet from USA, Eddie Two Rivers, last 27th December, 2008, after a long battle with cancer.

He was a talented poet, playwright and performer, and worked to obtain equal rights and justice for Native Americans. He was also dedicated to a number of causes such as AIDS, battered women, environmental issues, the death penalty, gang violence, hunger, homelessness and world peace.

Eddie Two Rivers was born in 1945 in a small town in northwestern Ontario and father of many children. He was an Anishanobae from the Ojibwa tribe. As a profession he was a journeyman machinist, but then he started writing fulltime. Among his published poetry collections, A Dozen Cold Ones. He taught theatre at Truman College where he was Founding Artistic Director of Red Path Theater Company. He also worked in sales, construction, acting, and as a performance artist, a community organizer and union representative.

His book Survivor's Medicine published by the University of Oklahoma Press in October 1998 won the 1999 AMERICAN BOOK AWARD given by the BEFORE COLUMBUS FOUNDATION. He addressed audiences at many of Chicago's most prestigious cultural and literary institutions and events.

Listen to Eddie Two Rivers performing one of his war poems - really gripping:

http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=GX_ogg7r0fQ

A poem of his:

August 17, 2008
Wannabe Warrior

Oh, the regrets

some people carry around

in their back pockets

like small boys tote stones,

throwing them

here and there

like temper tantrums.

You talk to people

like they were supposed to care.

You invent a past to compensate

for what you wanted but never could be

Valor in battle?

A fairy tale you keep

up your sleeve

like a switch blade knife,

a story tucked away

between shots

and cheap draught beer.

Pow Wows, Fat Cats, and Other Indian Tales. Mammoth Publications and Woodley Memorial Press. Copyright 2003 the author.

from http://www.chicagopoem.typepad.com/

The following is a poem dedicated to Eddie Two Rivers written by Jose Bono Rovirosa:

To E. Two Rivers

Spirit of the Lake

I beseech your forgiveness

for I broke your harmony

on a night of full moon

when some poets screamed at you

disrupting the nature of your spirit.

I am here to make peace

with your spirit

for I do not wish

to live my life with anger

by the Spirit of the Lake

who lives within me

and all things alike.

Good Spirit of the Lake

I am here today

to offer my sacrifice

to you and the four winds

riders of nature

sharing my respect and love

my spirit has with yours.

I offer you these red roses (throw the roses into the lake)

as a sign of beauty

death and life

is to me,

and these ashes (burn the poem and spread the ashes in the lake)

basic material

of the universe.

Jose Bono Rovirosa

Seosan-SI, S, Korea12/29/08

Toni Piccini - a poet-painter from Trieste

I must admit that having a blog has its many advantages. It is like a shopwindow looking towards an open world where people from all corners of the globe pass and look at it. Sometimes somebody dares to enter the shop and talk with the owner, that is, me. And the interesting thing is that the shopowner is all the time getting to know different people and learning new things.
My last meeting was with a poet-painter from North Italy, Trieste, Toni Piccini. He wrote me an e-mail telling me that he saw my blog and Teresinka Pereira's poem about the children in Gaza. Toni Piccini politely asked me if I would be glad to publish some of his work on this blog. I saw his works and I think that they are beautiful: they are a mixture of colour, emotion, philosophy and motion.



His has a passion for both writing and music. Piccini has conducted radio programmes for these last thirty years and has taught the subject too. He has written a story about Jim Morrison (1984) and musical criticism articles on different publications (both hard copy and virtual). He then starts writing poetry in Italian and in dialect. Some years ago he starts writing haiku, his favourite medium of expression, together with other artistic forms of expression. In 2005 he read his verse at the XI International Festival of Poetry of Genoa, and in Urbino (14 haiku for Patti Smith) as part of the evening dedicated to Patti Smith named "70's
Flowers".

Toni Piccini has a very nice and interesting website, together with a blog:

http://www.tonipiccini.it/
http://senzacopione.blogspot.com/


From Toni Piccini’s haiku series “One World”

Strange birds
are colouring the sky -
white phosphorus

In the train: Mohammed,
Christ, Buddha or the Nothing -
same seats

Without hymns
or national flags -
rainbows

Earth, sea, sky.
The geography of the wind
doesn't know borders


Dear Toni Piccini, a big THANKS for your artistic creations.

Poetry and the Gaza Children

For many of us Israel, Gaza and the Palestine question are all far away, or at least present only when we watch tv or read the newspaper. Many of us ask, "How can that be? How can that massacre happen? How can they let them do such terrible things on civilians? How can certain superpowers do whatever they like without any kind of reaction or sanctions from the civilized world? Are we really civilized? How can we say and do nothing in front of such bloodshed?" Imagine us in the place of the Gaza/Israel innocent civilians.

This wants to be a condemnation of both sides. Both sides are behaving unetichally and without any respect towards their brothers or rivals. Both Hamas and Israel have dirty clothes to wash and say sorry and pay for their atrocious acts.

The following is a poem written by Teresinka Pereira, Brasilian-American poet, and President of the International Writers and Artists Association (IWA) and President of the International Congress of the Society of Latin Culture.

CHILDREN OF GAZA

Children dying in Gaza
did not have the privilege
to celebrate the 2009 new year
with their innocent laughs.
Their days, months, few years of life
were filled with darkness and fear,
tears and pain. Their blood fertilizes
the exact piece of land where
they were born. Their land.

In my understanding, this war in Gaza
is not justified in any way by any side.
It does not matter to me who
is the landlord of the rich settlements,
or the poor Palestinian houses next to them.
I don't care who is paying
with the obligatory federal taxes for
the arsenal. I consider criminals
and killers the people who are launching
the missiles, who are selling and who are
buying these terrible weapons of death.
I condemn the hands that are taking lives
of innocent people on both sides
of the border, although the number
of deaths in Gaza speaks for itself.

The life of a child is worth more
than the whole land, more than
all ideologies and religions or the
politics of drawing new maps according
to the winners of any war.
Each child is the owner for a lifetime
of the land where she is born.

TERESINKA PEREIRA

Poetry from Hong Kong

I met poet Agnes Lam for the first time at the entrance of the Magna Grecia Archaeological Museum of Reggio, in South Italy, last November 2008. She was together with other poets from all over the world and who had participated in the Nosside International Poetry Competition 2008, and also winners of various prizes. The thing I remember best is her magical reading of her winning poem (Special Mention), Vanilla in the stars (see below). People present were bedazzled by the way Agnes Lam read her "cosmic" poem. Nosside gave us all the opportunity to meet people like Agnes: intelligent, brilliant, sincere, friendly, humble and inspiring.

(Photo by Thomas Langdon)

Agnes S. L. Lam (poet, essayist, literary critic) completed her PhD at the University of Pittsburgh and is currently an Associate Professor at the University of Hong Kong. She has published two collections of poetry, Woman to Woman and Other Poems (1997) and Water Wood Pure Splendour (2001), and her work has appeared in anthologies around the world. Other publications include several short stories, scholarly monographs, and other creative and critical works. Her articles on Hong Kong writing in English have also appeared in World Literature Today and World Englishes. She was awarded the title of Honorary Fellow in Writing by the University of Iowa in 2008 and received the Nosside International Poetry Prize (Special Mention) in the same year. Her current research on Asian poetry in English is funded by the Hong Kong Research Grants Council.

Poetry:

Vanilla in the stars

When I was a child,
I used to gaze at the stars above

our garden of roses, jasmine and lingzhi by the sea,
wondering how far away they really were,
whether they were shining still at the source
by the time their light reached me …

I was told that everyone was born with a star
which glowed or dimmed with the fortunes of each.
I also heard people destined to be close
were at first fragments of the same star

and from birth went searching for each other.
Such parting, seeking, reuniting might take
three lifetimes with centuries in between.
I had thought all these were but myths …

Now decades later, I read about the life of stars,
how their cores burn for ten billion years,
how towards the end, just before oblivion,
they atomize into nebulae of fragile brilliance –

ultra violet, infra red, luminous white, neon green or blue,
astronomical butterflies of gaseous light
afloat in a last waltz choreographed by relativity,
scattering their heated ashes into the void of the universe …

Some of this cosmic dust falls onto our little earth
carrying hydrocarbon compounds, organic matter
able to mutate into plant and animal life,
a spectrum of elemental fragrances …

Perhaps on the dust emanating from one ancient star
were borne the first molecules of a pandan leaf,
a sprig of mint or basil, a vanilla pod, a vine tomato,
a morning frangipani, an evening rose, a lily of the night …

Perhaps our parents or grandparents or ancestors further back
strolling through a garden or a field had breathed in the scents
effusing from some of these plants born of the same star
and passed them on as DNA in the genes of which we were made …

Could that be why, on our early encounters, we already sensed
in each other a whiff of something familiar, why, when we are near,
there is in the air some spark which seems to have always been there,
prompting us to connect our pasts, share our stories even as they evolve …

… till the day when we too burn away into dust
and the aromas of our essence dissipate
into the same kaleidoscope of ether light
to be drawn into solar space by astral winds …

… perhaps to make vanilla in a star to be
before the next lifetime of three?

Agnes Lam, 9 May 2008, Rodrigues Court, with reference to Sun Kwok’s book, ‘Cosmic butterflies’

The rape of a nation

Larger than life,
they were soldiers
in the streets of darkness,
shadows with no faces,
burning, raping, killing
in a land not their own,
a battle not of their making.
I was watching
by the side with others.
They did not see me
or the other watchers.
But I could hear the screams,
smell the wet of the blood,
see the red of fire.
I was doing nothing.
Nothing was done to me.
But I felt the desperation of both
the perpetrators and the victims
in the rape of a nation.
Was it from another time?
Another space?
Was it just television?
Or a hallucination? A prophecy?
A fragment of collective memory?

22 June 1997, Rodrigues Court (Lam, A. (2001). The rape of a nation. Ariel: A Review of International English Literature, 32(1), 136.)

Other poems can be read on: http://iwp.uiowa.edu/writers/index.html

Selected Bibliography:

· Poetry

o Water Wood Pure Splendor. Hong Kong: Asia 2000, 2001.
o Woman to Woman and Other Poems. Hong Kong: Asia 2000, 1997.

· Nonfiction

o Language Education in China: Policy and Experience from 1949. Hong Kong: Hong Kong
o University Press, 2005.
o “Defining Hong Kong Poetry in English: An Answer from Linguistics.” In World Englishes
o (19:3, pp. 387-97), 2000.

· Short Fiction

o “La montagna dei crisantemi [‘The Mountain of Chrysanthemums’]. In Singapore: Sedici
o Racconti dall’Asia estrema. M. Coppola and A. Mioni, eds. Milan: Isbn Edizioni, 2005.

Serbia and Signalism Poetry

MIROLJUB TODOROVIĆ, Serbian poet and artist, was born 1940. in Skoplje. He graduated law at the Faculty of Law, University of Belgrade. He is the founder and theoretician of Signalism, an avant-garde literary and artistic movement, active in Serbian and Yugoslav culture, and editor in chief of the International review Signal. Upon his work there were published more than 2000 reviews, articles and essays in journals and magazines and 15 books. His work was also evaluated in three Ph.D. theses. The first one was presented by Dr. Ph. Julian Kornhauser, at University of Krakow, the Department of Yugoslavistics in 1980. The second was presented by Dr. Živan Živković, at University of Belgrade, the Department of Serbian 20th Century Literature in 1991. The third was presented by Dr. Ph. Milivoje Pavlovic at Megatrend University in Belgrade in 2002.

Signalism:

"Signalism is a complex creative movement. Signalist art is a complex art of new civilization. The complexity of Signalism is noticeable in its jaggedness, openness and non-dogmatism. Signalism is not just a method, and even less so a prescribed way of creation, a school. It is not just a visual or just a computer poetry, nor just a discarding the object and reduction of artistic text to a concept, idea, a reduction of text to a blank whiteness of page, nor just an abolition of language and introduction of sign, gesture and sound as communicative elements. Signalism is also in language, in its continuous research (jargon, slang, phenomenological, technological and other forms of verbal poetry), finding out of new contents and forms and, finally, in permeating of all these mentioned communicative elements."

Poetry books:

Planet (1965), Signal (1970), Kyberno (1970), Trip to Astroland (1971), The Pig is an Excellent Swimmer (1971), Staircase (1971), Gift-parcel (1972), Certainly Milk Flame Bee (1972), Thirty Signalist Poems (1973), Bumpkin Shows off, (Slang Poetry,1974), TV Set to Stare at, (Slang Poetry, 1977), Insect on the Temple (1978), Algol (1980), Textum (1981), Brain Soup (1982), Chinese Erotism (1983), Knock-out (1984), A Day on the Hymen (1985), I Become Silent Horror Language Core (1986), I Mount Rosinante Again, (Selected Poems, 1987), Water-snake Drinks Rainwater (1988), Soupe de cervau dans l'Europe de l'Est (1988), St.Vitus Day (1989), Rzav River Neighs Happily (1990), His Thorn Red and Black (1991), Ambassador Dustbin, (Slang Poetry, 1991), Grill from Srem (1991), I Breathe, I Talk (1992), Rosy Lizard Runs Across the Rain (1994), Striptease, (Slang Poetry, 1994), Loud Frog (1994), Virgin Byzantium (1994), Storm Spittle (1995), Tzar Trojan’s Goat Ears (Gestual Poetry, 1995), Planet (1996), Ho (Slang Poetry, 1997), Electric chair (Slang Poetry, 1998), Stars' Trowel (1998), Prescription for liver inflamation (1999), Azure Dream (2000), Shot into Shit (2001), Speech Burning (2002), Phonets and Other Poems (2005), Parallel Worlds (2006), Blue Wind (2006).

Prose books:

I Just Opened my Mail (epistolary novel, 2000), Walked Into my Ear (slang stories, 2005), Diary 1982 (2006), Window (Dreams, 2006), Slang Stories (2007).
Books of Essays, and polemics:Signalism (in English, 1973), Signalism (1979), Zipper for Morons, (Settlement with False Avant-garde) (1984), Cocks from Baylon Square, (Settlement with Serbian Traditionalism, 1986), Diary of Avant-garde (1990), Liberated Language (1992), Play and Imagination (1993), Chaos and Cosmos (1994), Towards the Source of Things (1995), Planetary Culture (1995), Grammatology Thirst (1996), Signalism Yugoslav creative movement (in English, 1998), Miscellanea (2000), Poetics of Signalism (2003), Courses of Neo Avant-garde (2004).

Books for children:

Mouse in Kindergarten (2001), Crazymeter (2003).
Book-works:Fortran (1972), Approaches (1973), Signal-Art (1980), Zlatibor (1990), Forest Honey (1992).

Anthologies (editor):

Signalist Poetry,( “Signal”, 1971), Concrete, Visual and Signalist Poetry, ("Delo", 1975), Mail Art - Mail Poetry, ("Delo", 1980).

Awards:

"Pavle Markovic Adamov" 1995 for poetry and life work; "Oskar Davico" for best book published in 1998 (Star's Trowel); "Todor Manojlovic" 1999 for modern artist's sensibility and "Vuk Aword" 2005 for exceptional contribution in Serbian and pan-Serbian cultural space.

Todorović took part in more than six hundred international collective drawings exhibitions of Concrete poetry, Visual Poetry, Conceptual Art and Mail Art.

Some poems:

Scientific Poetry:

HYDROGEN

In the eye of apparition
By a bluish light
Little
trembling flame
was devouring the darkness

ATOMS

In the field of smokes
a flock of imprisoned birds sleep
If I hear their call
If I shoot at them by star
They will jump out
like secret hinds
into a moved world

ELECTRON

Once he will give me a gold apple
as a gift
Entombed in its
succulent subconsciousness

MACHINES

Machines were catching us
With their sharp gears
And ground slowly meat and bones.
Blood flew away by special drains
For irrigation of carnivore herbs
It was a systematic destruction of our bodies
But our spirit even more curiously
Continued research into stars.

WITH NOODLES CERTENLY
(Computer poetry)

2.
MAY BE I DON’T WANT DON’T FORGET
ZAJECAR RICH SOUP
ACCORDING TO THIS I’LL SPEND SUMMER
IN MARRIAGE HAVE I RIGHT
AT SLAVIJA CALMS DOWN
ACCORDING TO THIS WHILE I’M GOINGG
MAYBE I DON’T WANT IT’S TIME
NEVER DON’T FORGET
FFOR SITTING IT’S TIME
BUT HOW I’LL LOVE

3.
CUT IT OUT OF COURSE
YOU ARE RIGHT DON’T FORGET
WELL TO MIX ON ROAST
ORGANIST I’LL SPEND SUMMER
AT SLAVIJA DON’T FORGET
I’LL HAVE DON’T FORGET
ON DIKE RICH SOUP
STRAIN WHILE I’M GOING
FROM PENALTY LET ME SUGGEST
STRAIN I’LL FLY

BUY ONLY SIGNALIST POETRY

(Technological poetry)

in every house, hall, institution!
new in yugoslav market!
the already known industry of poetry
"miroljub todorovic" has begun with
production (fabrication)
of the most modern poetical texts.
a high-quality poetry is in question
that can be read, watched,
heared, drawn up, exhibited,
roared at meetings, cited,
reproduced in textbooks, put
on walls, parquet, concrete, advertising
wall boards, trains, ships, aeroplanes.
in these products that can not be
even imported for they are rare in the world
an enormous interest exists in
yugoslav and foreign market.
individuals, households, caterers,
institutions, railway, car
industry, projectant organizations,
publishing houses and clinics can ask already in this
month for our new product
signalist poetry.
the new product fabricated with the
most modern devices electronic
calculators and by complicated
mathematical and other exact methods
is of high quality and is not more expensive at all
than the already outdated and exceeded
products of the same kind.

I WANT TO BE A DRUM

i want to be a drum artificial
eyelashes are in fashion
wake up for you will have troubles
with digestive organs
niagara has begun operating
down with europe
live japanese antarctica expedition
do you accept modern fashion
woman always offers hand first
try to exclude thoughts from your head
life in brothels is not same everywhere
what does moscow want in beijing
it doesn't upset us much
the earth's magnetic field has shape of a comet
i admire coats made of camel hair
you have a runner on your stocking
rest on chang khay chek matrasses
while drinking castor oil

Links:

http://www.miroljubtodorovic.com/
http://mtodorovic2.blogspot.com/
http://www.rastko.org.yu/knjizevnost/signalizam/index.php#_rastko

More poetry from India

Dr. Arbind Kumar Choudhary, an editor of the international literary journal KOHINOOR, is one of the distinguished Indo - English poets of first water. He is a regular contributor to a number of reputed literary journals. He was declared Effulgent Star 2003 by the Home of Letters, Orissa. Under the influence of the Classical, the Romantic and the Elizabethan writers, he composes compact poems in rhyme and meter. His trio collections of poems entitled Eternal Voices (2007), Universal Voices (2008) and My Songs (2008) illustrate many of his characteristic ideas and attitudes. Apart from creative works there are half a dozen critical works on Romantic, Victorian and Twentieth Century poets and essayists to his credit. He is the guest editor of Pot-Pourri. This Head of the Deptt. of English, R. C. College, India, has fathered International Association of Poets, Essayists & Novelists(I.A.P.E.N.) & International Haiku Association of India (I.H.A.I.) at Begusarai, India.
Dr. Choudhary's recent project of Encyclopedia of Indian Creative Writers in English that is under active preparation for the first time in India, will be a mile stone in the history of Indian English literature.
He can be contacted at :-
A.K. Choudhary kohnoor@rediffmail.com
arbind442002@yahoo.co.in

Poetry:

1. Poet

O Pneuma ! O Creator of Valhalla !
The earth is full of apnoea.
O Lama ! O Piercer of nebulosity !
Be crony of the generosity.
The gaby of the gully
Inhales fragrance of the poesy
The icy idiocy and intricacy
Deny sage’s delicacy.
Megalomania and monomania
Are moulded by melomania.
O Antenna of fauna’s anathema !
Aesthesia is your aroma.
O Sage ! Sabotage worldly cage.
Watch weltanschauung without wastage.

2. Modern Man

O Owl !
Do not play the foul.
To show white feathers
is modern man's features.

O Bad Blood !
Don't be proud of blue blood.
O Gigolo ! Make a name by deed
Ever be away from broken reed.

The espial of the raptorial
suppresses sparrow's jovial.
The euphism and the flim-flam
bedim duos esteem.

Man is the prize idiot of the earth
while woman has a filthy faith.

3. Love

Love is the fragrance of life.
It blooms only in perfect psyche.
Love is a spiritual inn
Laden with immolation and insaturation.
Love is a mere illusion;
A dark shadow for saturation.
Love laden life is more than Hyacinth
Loveless life is worse than Death.
Drink a dram of this cellar
Where Donor is gainer than Receiver.
How beautiful if love has not made
Love is more beautiful than Life's beatitude.
The fruit of love is glutinous and delicious.
The more one gives, the more one gets.
O Cadger of Love ! Hug a swig of this ocean
Where junction of souls is empyrean.

A poet from India, Gwalior

As the person who takes care of the Maltese Poets Association e-mail account I regularly receive greetings and messages from different poets coming from all over the globe. One of the latest was Indian poet Dr. Amitabh Mitra. I sent him a short e-mail asking him if I could download some of his poetry for my blog and he immediately answered positively.

Photo by Volkmar Dobat of Indophot.

Biographical note:

Amitabh Mitra is a Medical Doctor in a busy hospital in East London, South Africa. A widely published poet in the web and print, Amitabh has been hailed as one of the most popular South African poet writing in English today by the Skyline Literary Review, New York.
Amitabh, now settled in South Africa, uses his experience of social interaction and cultural impact from countries like India, Bhutan and Zimbabwe where he worked under varying conditions, in his art and poetry.
A powerful voice dispersing a reverie of time and heritage, his love poems with a backdrop of feudal Gwalior and Delhi take you on a sentimental journey to old family homes, forts, palaces and places where he grew up.
His unique style of fusing words into almost lyrical dream like images, exploring muted corners of life taken over a suddenrushhourtime, Amitabh brings forth poetry that seems to peep from behind veils and shadows, waylaid in a mind state in Johannesburg and New York, all merging in an unforgettable ecstatic experience.
His first book of poems was published in 1980 under the title of ‘Ritual Silences’.
‘A Slow Train to Gwalior’ is a CD of his ten most popular poems recited against a background of African and Indian traditional music. Brought out by Harp Records, South Africa, this poetry CD weaves a desire into a steady pattering of rain, a voice that would almost allure you to yet another stealth of a strangertime.
His first show of poems, drawings, visuals and prints, juxtaposition of words, lines and colors was on show at The Ann Bryant Art Gallery, St. Marks Road, East London from 12 July to 28 July 2005.
Dr. Mitra edits ‘The Hudson View’ an international print poetry journal published from New York, USA
He is the Chairperson of the East London Fine Arts Society.

Poems:

Darfur

Suddenly a baby cries

Malnourished

Maltreated

And ravaged

Men woman and children

Hang by their

Skin to

Mirages

the desert burns the skull

of all reasons

Storms that sweep

Into their eyes

Locks up

Within corneas

Daring death to open them

Darfur has no word

Darfur has no meaning

Darfur has deaths

The baby squeaks

Because only

He has the pride to

Know

When the Janjaweed

Are coming

Its time then

The mirages are slashed open

By flashing swords and

Faceless marauders

Screams will be a welcome whirlwind

Chasing the sun again.

One Day

I wait for you each day

with the changing of seasons, the smell

in our mango orchard and

the turbulence of your hair where I once

basked the stealth in the eye of a desire.

As a boy I raced

the train everyday with my

friends looking at the receding

distance

and the parting of the last carriage

till a horizon lifted it once again in the sky.

and then you came one day, Aavantika

suddenly

with the camel trains at sunset behind

the lumbering fort

treading the colors of your

garara and the jingle of ghungroos

on a bare feet river

flowing on parched pebbles

and eyes that had held together so

long

the distance

again.

Old Delhi Days

Another wintry day

petals over petals

of quiet wind

hiding a warmth from these streets of

old delhi

where fables had once been

strangled

in the lunacy of a crowded

moment

and you today

going alone

somewhere

on a rickshaw

in the midst of a mist

unaware

of streets that have long

surrendered

to the frost on

your lips

the old man

fort

holding a respite

of hurts in a sky of

sewn blue

haunted

I see you turn around

suddenly

catching the freeze

in your grip

as the rickshaw catches another lane

another day

in wintry

old delhi.

Visit link: http://www.amitabhmitra.com/

Video poetry: http://www.amitabhmitra.com/index.php?option=com_content&task=view&id=154&Itemid=41

More poetry from Greece (3)

Eftichia Kapardeli was born in Athens and lives in Patras. She writes poetry, stories, Xai-kou, essays, and novels. She is a soprano chorus singer, and graduated from the Deparment of Journalism A.K.E.M (Athenian Center Vocational Education). She participated in many education seminars, and knows H/Y 7 programs, English and Italian, classic guitar, and studies right voice. She was a guide in the body of Hellenic Girl Scouts. She is a volunteer fire-woman. In 2004 she was a student in the Deparment Philology at the University of Patras. She has been awarded in the Panhellenic competitions in poetry, topics, stories, novels, fables, and xai kou. Her books Secret March (novel) and Sikeliana 2006 (Salamina) were awarded by D.E.E.L. and UNESCO respectively. Her works were published in literary magazines. Her first poetry collection is Confindings of secrets and Light. She is studying Greek Civilization at the University of Cyprus and is member of the World Poets Society (WPS). The official website is http://world-poets.blogspot.com/. She is also a member of the International Writers Association with President Teresinka Pereira.

INTERNET LINKS: http://durabond.ca/gdouridas/poetryArkadia.html

www.kapardelipage.freegr.eu
e-mail: Kapardeli@mailbox.gr
kapardeli@gmail.com

NOTE BEFORE READING THE FOLLOWNG POEMS:

Poetess Kapardeli originally sent me her poetry in Greek. Unfortunately I don't understand Greek and so she has translated her poems in English. Although the English translation is not perfect, I've noted that the imagery is very beautiful and that there is real passion in the lines. I left Kapardeli's English as it was as I feel that the way she translated from Greek to English is languagewise revealing. Eftichia Kapardeli is essentially a romantic poet and a peace poet.

INNOCENCE

The opponents have receded
The poisons human mind
They ruined the reality
They left back destruction

***
In that ruins, I found
The chased innocence
Above in piles from stones
Just as fat drops of rain
Invade from everywhere
In the old house that
Sometimes was familiar
Refugein
***
In the ruins alive a new child
A rosy promise
Chastity and youth
Was rescued

PEACE

With the soul upset
and my eyes wounded
in the war the view
the peace I search
where it wanders and it sleeps
***
Inconsolable I stand in his
death impetus
the joy and Pleasure
old love I look for
her name I pronounce also him I call Peace
***
When the Sun his heat rays
in the frozen hearts him
world it leaves
and from the eyes the teardrops of farewell dry out,
and the deep wounds close
with reasons of love will say PEACE

***
An embrace, a kiss, a song
drops charms of happiness of benediction
of peacefulness,
in the sorrow the sadness
in the unfairness… or justice with the roses and lilies the love
joyful messages
then I will say PEACE
***
When the kindness the unique
breathing
the fruit of him spirit becomes
an endless internal agreement musical and the dreams of persons
feast
polite I slowly speak PEACE
***
Then the hands we will give reconciliation
friends and enemies we will link
in the embrace of one old beloved all
we will meet itself

THAT WOMAN

And …when rains
The mind runs
The mind goes
To that heart
When flower, when life
When air
In the sun the go down the
Warmth

****
Memories strokes with a brush
All-purples
Paints in the frozen sunbeams
Of time that woman
As blow
As breath
New, indomitable, beautifully

THE LIGHT OF THE SUN

The light of the sun stretched out in my legs
a golden carpet
The paradise is a part golden, made from
love
The hands they filled stars
I outside slipped from that crowd where I was
gone around
No one slow travel hand did not keep me
jailed anymore
In the earth laid down I look at the sky
A white river from clouds
The flowers shake nonchalantly their head.
The sun sure stick in the leaves in the petals
Dead, I resemble in the earth above motionless
freezing
White is everywhere
Rings in the neck made from gravel and
the breath of white paper hearth breath….
a sound white
My soul free unfolds in the empty
skies
I raise itself late…I feel resurrection
like again i have been given birth
How much years I was a small leaf
in the whirlwind of life and destiny

More poetry from Greece (2)

Nickos M. Batsikanis was born and raised in Pelasgia Phthiotitha’s. He made a carrier as an Airforce officer in the Greek War. Today he he deals with research concerning the Modern-Greek Language, and is approved by the Academy of Athens. He was announced honourable President of the Literary Association “Xasteron”, and he’s responsible for Public Relationships concerning the literary magazine “Keleno”. He has been included in the “People of the Year”, 2004, for his contribution to Civilization and Humanity, together with George Papandreou (minister), Dora Mpakogianni (minister, mayor of Athens), and Minos Kyriakou (president of Greek Olympic Organization). He has been honoured with a A΄ Panhellenic Poetry Prize and a A΄ Prize from the International Competition of Poetry. Moreover, his historical treatise gained the A΄ Prize equally with the Professor of History at the University of Cyprus. He was the first speaker during the literary dedication made by the “International Clubs of Maria Callas”, a true speaker to the great Diva of the Opera. A central speaker at the Word Olympiad “In Greece 2004” throughout the country. A narrative speaker at the dedication ceremony for the 80 years of the Greek singer Grigoris Mpithikotsis, the most popular Greek singer. A general co-ordinator at the International Symposium of Religious Poetry in Greece, and also its member.
He has presented many writers’ and poets’ books, among them: 1)“From my diary”: author Anna’s Grigori Mpithikotsi. 2)The c.d. “Behold the Groom is coming”… belonging to the Professor of Byzantine Music, Mr. Sotiris Doganis. He has participated in many festivities for great names of the Arts like: Elytis (Nobel), Ritsos, Lorca, Seferis (Nobel), Solomos (national poet) and other creators, while it’s been reported that his voice comes primitive and original from the past and especially the Byzantine Period. He writes articles in magazines and newspapers concerning Essays and Treatises. His work has been included in Anthologies and Internet pages, while much of his work has been translated into different languages and has been published in magazines.

Books:

Signs, poetry, 2001;

From the Skies, poetry, 2002;

A Tasty Day, poetry, 2004;

In Paradise, narrative stories, 2005;

Awakeness, poetry, 2006;

In the Light, poetry, 2007;

Fragments, treatises, 2008.

Poems by Nickos M. Batsikanis:

WITHOUT TITLE

Tonight we’re here again
you and me, both,
with a glass between us.
One is enough,
two are many (second will be to much).
Tonight we’re here again
opposite each other,
you and me, both,
like yesterday, like every night,
just like that…
just like the way we drank coffee in the sunset…
Silent…I didn’t hear you saying anything…
what if a word you didn’t announce…
what if again you didn’t say something,
my dear silence…


LOST LOVES

Maybe it is…
the lightning that tears the horizon tonight…
the rain-drops on my window-pane…
the snow-flakes on the window-ledge…

Maybe it is…
the wind’s chants on the foliages of the trees…
the million stars of the galaxy…
the rays of the sun warming me…

Maybe it is… but every time,
I am feeling this very delicate shiver.

HONESTY

I’ll go ahead
with the horse of honesty
until the finishing line…

A long road is ahead of me.
An up-slope, hard-trodden
very deserted path and road…


THREAT

Sky
we haven’t caught up with time
to place boundaries in you…
but don’t worry
we’re coming… we’re coming there very soon…

PEACE

Tomorrow
it will be your turn.
There aren’t winners and losers
in war.
Not but least
to see the little orphans of the traffic-lights…

More poetry from Greece (1)

With my heart's wings (2007) is a multilingual collection of poetry written by poet and author Dr. Zanneta Kalyva-Papaioannou. One can read her poetry in Greek, English, French, Italian and Chinese. The poet comes from Vachlia, of Arcadia (Greece). She studied at the Supreme Industrial School of Piraeus (with scholarship) and at the same time she was working in the "Public Electric Power Company".

Today Zanneta is a journalist, poetess and author. Her works have been published in national and international newspapers and magazines, and her poems have been translated in English, French, Italian, Chinese, Albanian and Korean.


Her writings have won international and national prizes and she is member of the "World Congress of Poets/ World Academy of Arts and Culture" from where she was awarded the Doctor of Literature. She is also member of the "Accademia Ferdinandea" (Italy), of the "International Society of Greek Writers and Artists", of the "Union of Greek Writers", of the Literary Club "XASTERON" and of the "Literary Club of Helioupolis", amongst others. Zanneta is also included in the American "Who's Who" and in "I.B. of Cambridge" (UK).


Her other publications are Memories (2001), a collection of narrative stories from her childhood; A Life's Notes (2002), a bilingual poetic collection; and Life's Essence (2003), poems and short stories;


In her poetic anthology With my heart's wings Zanneta has 25 poems translated into English, thanks to poet and translator Zacharoula Gaitanaki. Two of the most important themes in Zanneta's verse are love and peace.


POEMS from With my heart's wings:


The Dove


You are a dove


that flies in the clouds


and your wings


never stop.



You carry in your beak


an olive branch


and you fly


as high as you can.



You hope for


the coming of peace


that's why


you never stop.



Blessed mother



Mother is worthy


prizes and honors


but there are not


enough of them for her.



On her smiling face


sun rises


and a better life


wants for her famly.



She has a comfort word


for every pain and grief.


First she runs to help


a sick or a poor man.



Mother, daughter, wife, grandmother,


you are blessed,


you hold in your hands

Friends

We pick and choose our friends,
their ideas to quite fit in with us,
all we are a good company
with laughter and songs.

Memories run
like clear water
and mind wandering around,
always in the best.

In my bad moments
I recollect the past
and every time I burst:
"why all that to me?"

Photos beside me
keeping company
and I start to sing
for not feeling cloudy.

Sun shines every day
for all the people.
I open my windows
and let the sunlight in.

I open my heart
and I tell my yearning
that's the way
to ease my sigh.
all the world.



Different ways (2008) is another bilingual poetry anthology written by poet Stathis Grivas, and translated into English by Zacharoula Gaitanaki. After Citizen of the World (2007) Grivas brings to light these two long poems, "Ecce Homo" and "Pigeons and Falcons". As Gaitanaki writes in the introduction, this is "a book for the children that are dying of hunger and for 'a world without arms and bombs', a peaceful better world".
Thus Different Ways is proof that poets and politics go hand in hand. However, this is not politics the way politicians understand and practice it. Grivas politics is of the genuine type; it is poetry - and thus words - with a positive message, and not words which have egoism and personal profit as the real and only objective.
Grivas presents a strong contrast between the innocence of children on one hand, and the corruption and greed of the adult world on the other.


Excerpts from Ecce Homo:

Poor,
sad children,
dreams without wings,
candles without light,
passing the soul's streets of silence
you became the living shame
of our inhuman generation...
Your parents,
Muslims or Christians,
looking in despair,
the sky of Biafra,
of Ethiopia, of Bangladesh
and shed bitter tears.
Poor,
sad children,
tender beings,
innocent souls [...]

We are civilized people
and for this, we are dogmatic
and unscrupulous people.
You don't know that
with less rockets
you would have so much things...
And rice
and clothes
and schools.
And smiles
and toys.
Like Don Quixote
we'll chase
the World's rule
in the star War.
For you, we'll not reserve
a costly death,
a death of luxury.



Stathis Grivas was born in Kato Tithorea of Lokrida in 1926.