All posts filed under: New Poetry

“Morning in the Garden” in Şiirden 37

My thanks to Müesser Yeniay who is editor of Şiirden Magazine (of Poetry) and who translated “Morning in the Garden” for issue 37 of the magazine. The poem first appeared in ANU 48 (Editor, Amos Grieg). You can read some of Müesser Yeniay’s work at the following links, Three Poems, Phoenix and other poems, and Kafes (The Cage) and other poems. For me, poetry  can be about cross-cultural pollination (translation) and it can occur at very simple levels, without the trumpets and big budgets. Ekphrasis need not be limited to the image, nor need it be static. The issue is always quite simply about the poet’s response to the poetry of another. I am very grateful to Müesser for her translation of my work.

The Light Dancing” and “Lizzie” by Catherine Conlon

The Light Dancing When I close the door my father’s coat slow-dances against the dark wood. It is old, this coat, marked by many winters, labours of a lifetime done. I imagine him in the front yard screening sand for the new extension, coat collar upturned against the breeze, a cigarette ashing towards his lip. There’s a light in his eyes when I stop during play to prattle and hear him say “you’re the best woman in the house” Now coming from the Big Field, the day’s farming done, his great hands in deep pockets. Dark shoulders that bear a darkness coming, the last of the light dancing on his wet boots. (first published in Ropes 2015. Issue 23) Lizzie I had a child’s view of her, black stockinged legs without shape of calf or ankle at my grandmother’s hearth, the fire shining in her laced-up shoes. Balls of wool from an old shopping bag, and her tongue like the clappers as she looped and purled. Her needles took up the light, flew like red …

“Love & its Edges” and other poems by Anna Walsh

is it is it ok that i am lying on my bed not having any useful or funny thoughts is it ok that i do this is it ok that i am lying on my bed unshowered and not replying to anyone is it ok that i do this for no grand gesture but just because i can be lazy sometimes is it ok that when i don’t have to work or go, or eat i like that i don’t have to is that ok to just waste some time blinking   in times of overwhelming panic   it’s sometimes too overwhelming and sad to be alive in the world and to know that being alive is overwhelming and sad either way you have to sit down and be quiet and think, fuck, i’m so lucky i love the people that i love i’m not a total prick and i can sleep when i need to   love & its edges   i have decided to start practising assertiveness, and telling people how frustrated it …

“While girls my age were toddling in heels” and other poems by Ruth Elwood

There’s no place like…   In the life God never bestowed my home would be more than a crate residing on the side of the road it’s with you and her puppy, running for treats not you judging me alone on the concrete.   An age has passed; left broken by your mum you look at me now, drunken scum never knowing I could have been your father.   Your first hero taught you to read, write push you on the swing   but she didn’t want me or the ring.   While girls my age were toddling in heels   My mind drifting elsewhere – like on saving for my own set of wheels scanning milk and jam by day, it was the nights that sent cash my way. promo and waitress for “Al’s Betting Joint” “Come to Al’s bring your pals” or “ Would you like some ice?” “interested in rolling the dice?”   Shop money simple stable, Al ‘s nightly, radical all under the table.   A moral battle in my mind, …

“Kafes” (The Cage) and other poems by Müesser Yeniay

Carvansarai of Night Tonight here should be dance of words -in the carvansarai of your glory- tonight I am as joyful as the grasses that saw the sun and full with the existence of my dream.   Kafes (The Cage) Like a bird looking for its cage, I am flying around time In my chest, human voices… Then an army of ants dissolving -an ant is eating another- They call it a proverb as they pound on the country   Menstruation Postfeminismus Silence becomes word drop by drop I am a woman, a poet in this nothingness that batters my body egg that leaves my womb every month has a legend in my body it has a trace my womenhood my Achilles toe my dog that barks every month a man can’t be a poet a man can be a pen for a poet Kafes (The Cage) and other poems are © Müesser Yeniay, translated by the poet. MÜESSER YENİAY was born in İzmir, 1984; she graduated from Ege University, with a degree in English Language …