All posts tagged: New Poetry

“The Devil, Oblique Angles and Polka Dots” by Sue Cosgrave

The Devil, Oblique Angles and Polka Dots For Grandmother Your host shimmers beyond the margin of this page as my fingers tap-tap you from the dead.   It takes you a while to snap into focus.   You remind me of a day when I was eight,                       or ten, at most,   the day I got lost in the woods. How I blubbered and wailed for you!   When you finally found me— a snot and hiccup spewing fountain – not pretty.   “What took you so long?”   It was strange how you appeared, seemingly out of nowhere; haloed in spring beyond the green fog of young birches, your sudden presence, not reassuring – not at first – “why did you leave me?” I cried   all the while, you, unruffled, reproached me: “Shame on you. A big girl crying like a baby. And for no reason at all. Don’t you know that God is watching over you, Detushka?’   Aha! This is …

“Magic Bullet” and other poems by Rus Khomutoff

  Untitled for Andre Breton   Nostalgic sentiments and new wave nocturnes intersecting in a normal chaos of life an hourglass of neglected affinities idols of saturated phenomena night of filth, night of flowers the aporia of revelation   Magic Bullet (for Tristan Tzara)    Smell of death smell of life of embrace a medicine of moments semiquavers and sundial conductors of the postspectacle deposits of legitimacy left behind sortilege of the divine decree words in blood like flowers   Grand Hotel Abyss    Selenophilia of our being the obscuring of the queen vexed in your hollow divine incipience of the notable nonesuch like fragrant paperwhites in the corner of the transcendental frame pleasure ground of annulled pretext in hysterically real daymares everyday extraordinary grand hotel abyss   Masque of the minutes for Adam Lovasz    Masque of the minutes like a red psychotonic cry agnosia of the just interloper scarlet bellowing of the deep end excisions on vacuous origins temporal flight of the elemental route   Hygge    A sense of timelessness surrounds her …

“One Has To Admire His Ability As A Poet” by Kevin Higgins

One Has To Admire His Ability As A Poet “I was struck by … his courage in speaking out to defend the memory of Charles Haughey” Vincent Woods, RTE website To defend the memory of Boris Yeltsin’s vodka bottle. To take money from both the late Benito Mussolini and, when pragmatism demanded it, those who spat on him when he was safely hanging upside down outside an Esso station. To put in the proper context of realpolitik as practised in parts of County Wexford the late Father Fortune’s harem of boys. To share a Ouija board with President Duvalier while supping rum from the skull of an infant who was always going to come to this because, in the words of W.H.Auden, ‘poetry makes fuck-all difference’. To share a roast leg with General Amin and not mind which of his enemies was being eaten. To recite even his longer poems to a musical accompaniment of Vladimir Putin twanging his jock-strap, like a rude balalaika. To roll around wrapped in the French flag with Marine Le …

I. Am. Straight. Are you ? & other poems by Lisa Lowther.

Dedicated to the many people all over the world that cannot live liberally & authentically for reasons of culture or other. May you find a path that frees you to be true to your beautiful intrinsic self, whatever that may be. Closet Ivory Solid Wooden Door – unbreakable Shining Gold Handle protected by two one on either side admittance – speaks quietly the other will decide as you attempt to open not just anyone is welcome White Backless Gowns on shining skin Chiffon, Encrusted Diamonds heels that can match any Elegant Masquerade Masks green eyes of foreign waters pearls, bright & round as the moon reflected only to the celebrant By Invitation – The Other Vintage Lace some roses too For Your Entrance – not an exit of mine, this time do close the door on leaving the two shall rest awhile A little like my own Even I did not feel invited into this poem I. Am. Straight. Are you ? Contemplation of what life once was & could have been momentarily fills my …

“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 …