THE BOOK
A man closed his curtain to the light.
Under the small sun of his room
he opened a book, and vanished.
Beyond the curtain the whole density of day
pressed against the glass as if drawn
to the vacuum that his mind was making.
A man opened his thought to the night.
Reflections of his opened curtains
were bookends to the high-rise blocks
that rose between his hands. The pale grey
of their pages, lit by windows of words,
told, across his face, a new story each night.
* Graham High is a poet, haijin and sculptor. His website is at www.grahamhigh.info
|
||||
|
Recent Comments
Who's there?
Search
RSS Newsfeeds
Main Page RSS
Login
Make a donation by PayPal
Categories
Month Archive
Recent Articles
|
Saturday, July 4
Graham High's been reading the book
by
Charles Christian
on Sat 04 Jul 2009 07:40 AM BST
Friday, July 3
One bad apple spoils the crop
by
Charles Christian
on Fri 03 Jul 2009 10:45 AM BST
apples
all go bad at once – widow's spring ennui Memories of an orchard long ago come back today as I clear out the apple barrel of all the bad apples. * Merrill Ann Gonzales says "Bio's so long, hate to cut it down... always miss so many great decades in the haiku circle of friends" – so we've included it as a file attachment.  1 AttachmentsThursday, July 2
Duncan Jones is working in triads
by
Charles Christian
on Thu 02 Jul 2009 10:38 AM BST
Anyone who has ever had to experience a business course of one form or another (and they seem to crop in the arts as well these days) will be familiar with the awfulness of management-speak...
The Triads ...an homage to management speak With a face as straight As a plum line, The course leader spoke. “We’d like you to work in triads.” Looking worriedly over my shoulder, I search, For Japanese gangsters, Scary knives, Tattooed agents of evil, Illegal drugs. And the prospect of martial arts madness. I realise what my fate will be. Yes! I shall be working in a three!!!! My, my, my, thought I. Working in threes is so passé Let’s try and say it another way. Then we’ll sound much more impressive And people will listen to our message. You could paint in triptychs, Hum in trios, Pray in trinities Eat caviar in a troika, Make flags in tricolours, Discuss genetics in triplets, Float new ideas in trimarans Reinvent the wheel in tricycles, Have a stab at solving the problem in tridents, Ponder the shape of things to come in triangles, and tell people to sod off using management speak in triplicate and tell people to sod off using management speak in triplicate and tell people to sod off using management speak in triplicate. * Duncan Jones says "Me in 20 words: always liked to write find out more at www.molethepoet.com" Wednesday, July 1
Neal Whitman has the can't fall asleep blues
by
Charles Christian
on Wed 01 Jul 2009 01:00 PM BST
Two poems by Neal Whitman – we'll be publishing some of his haiku in the near future...
The Can’t Fall Asleep Prose Poem Mantra Blues A step in the wrong direction; the Bible translated into Pig Latin. It’s out of reach; a cottage at the beach. A rule of thumb; how could I be so dumb! If it’s up to me; biscuits and afternoon tea. First sign of snuffle; brandy and a rum truffle. In case of emergency; call for help urgently. Give me peace and quiet; cancel the anti-war riot. It’s no joke; you are the biggest slow poke. If the length of my life were one day; give me four PM if I may. It’s too late; time to wake to my fate. ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ for poets … there is water for tea apple for art work for no money there is a hic for cup a gate for keeping out or in there is land for homework a pencil to put down a word for rent There are root vegetables. * Neal Whitman lives in Pacific Grove, California, and somehow, over the past four years, against all odds, has crow-barred his way into a dozen edited online and print journals. He is a retired teacher and is now a volunteer docent (volunteer tour guide in British English) at the Robinson Jeffers Tor House in Carmel. Tor House is the stone house and tower poet Robinson Jeffers built in Carmel in 1919. He and his wife, Una, moved to Carmel in 1914 when The Great War precluded them from carrying out their first plan – they had planned on Lyme Regis to live near Thomas Hardy, Robin's role model. www.torhouse.org
IS&T readership for June
by
Charles Christian
on Wed 01 Jul 2009 10:33 AM BST
Latest Ink Sweat & Tears visitor traffic figures for June show our monthly readership is now 6400 and that our total number of page views has hit a record high of 30,000. Once again, a big thank you to all our readers and contributors.
Tuesday, June 30
Mo Blake's woken a witch
by
Charles Christian
on Tue 30 Jun 2009 05:29 PM BST
Awakening of an Urban Witch
Cast from Shadowland; yet clinging still to trailing fingers of kindred wraiths my harbinger spirit seeks respite in Hades’ neon hallways then flounders in its silent search as useless sleep lets loose her grip and that bastard nocturnal thrush drags me from bed; winging me awake its happy beak; singing as I dance a Grimaldi pantomime; me now a pyjama’d clown of the darkest hour Later through the misty steam of cocoa A grimalkin cat thaws from my heart blood dripping from her fangs Screeching the nightingale to silence Dawn breaks over a bloody cenotaph Nae, a Babel tower of twigs * Mo Blake says... "I am currently working on a novel and also write short stories and poetry. I am one of the founding members of Read Raw Limited and a selection of my prose and poetry can be viewed at www.readrawltd.co.uk" Monday, June 29
New prose poem - Sonia Jarema is taking a trip
by
Charles Christian
on Mon 29 Jun 2009 04:40 PM BST
TRIP
You shine like a glazed clay bowl in the sun. The door slides shut behind you – leaning down towards me you say hello. I’m not as good as my fellow passengers at avoiding eye contact. Hello I reply. The seat between us littered with papers giving me space from you. Intense eyes and urgent mouth telling me I have a green aura, that I am very psychic. Can I see your hand. I offer it to you and nearly catch the eyes, of the woman opposite, widening. Producing a pen you trace my head, life, destiny and heart lines and circle the mounds of Jupiter, Saturn, Mars and Venus. The silver lines don’t show up well so each line is then retraced in black. My hand is magical, mysterious - its lines singing. You ask for paper and write three things on three pieces which you then tightly screw into my hand. They predict my later answers which you planted in my head. Being able to rummage in another’s head is sometimes useful but also dangerous. I do not deviate from my trip and arrive at my friend’s birthday party with a tattooed hand and a light heart. * Sonia Jarema describes herself as an allotmenteer living on the edge of London. Sunday, June 28
Hannah Silva performing this coming week
by
Charles Christian
on Sun 28 Jun 2009 04:00 PM BST
IS&T contributor has sent out an invitation to her final MFA theatre practice performance on 2nd July, 7 pm, Roborough Studio, Streatham Campus, Exeter University....
Panopticon - written, composed & performed by Hannah Silva BEING A BRITISH CITIZEN IS A MEANINGFUL & CELEBRATORY EVENT NOT A BUREAUCRATIC EXPERIENCE! 'Panopticon' is a darkly humorous interrogation of identity, isolation, language and belonging. In a multimedia installation/performance, Hannah Silva, 'one of the most ambitious and entertaining poets in the country' (The Times) investigates what it is to be British. Hannah Silva is a writer, theatre director and performer based in Plymouth. She has shown theatre works in Japan, Germany, Holland and the UK. She was awarded the 2007 Torbay Artsbase Literature Award and currently holds a place as a playwright on the Arvon/Jerwood mentoring scheme. www.hannahsilva.co.uk
Two tankas by Anne Brooke
by
Charles Christian
on Sun 28 Jun 2009 10:00 AM BST
Tanka 1
During these hard times a tall man catches ducklings as they fall like stars towards the unmoving road. Small lives not yet forgotten. Tanka 2 The moorhen's green toes smooth the grass with each long step. They should not belong to such a small scrap of bird but to something far greater. * Anne Brooke is having a bird-obsessed few days but hopes to fly away from it all before she actually grows feathers. Her current roost is www.annebrooke.com The first tanka relates to this story: http://news.bbc.co.uk/1/hi/world/americas/8058221.stm Saturday, June 27
Ink Sweat editor on tours
by
Charles Christian
on Sat 27 Jun 2009 04:00 PM BST
If you caught Ink Sweat & Tears editor Charles Christian doing his surprise stand-up performance in London recently and want to hear more, then make a date for the Buxton Fringe Festival in July. Starting a three day run on Sunday 12th, Christian is performing his new one man storytelling show The Boy with the Bomb beneath his Bed at the Underground Venues beneath the Old Hall Hotel in Buxton town centre. Don’t worry, each show only lasts for 60 minutes!
Wullie Purcell says he loves you
by
Charles Christian
on Sat 27 Jun 2009 11:00 AM BST
So say I love you - Anon
To say I love you Anonymously To say I care Anonymously To give a gift to show affection Anonymously So foolish. So unrequited So Anonymous So Unknown Be upfront Shout it loud Be bold Be known. But it’s not that easy All the time Sometimes it can’t be said Upfront And must remain a secret So it’s good that way To have a day When you can say I Love You Anonymously * Wullie Purcell... "Ex-fireman and IT guy is a writer of both prose and poetry and doesn’t tie himself to any one discipline, writing anything that takes his fancy. I am is also a director of Read Raw Ltd and we have a site through which we hope to promote creative writing in Scotland." www.readrawltd.co.uk Friday, June 26
Stephen Williams remembers two hot summer nights
by
Charles Christian
on Fri 26 Jun 2009 01:00 PM BST
INDENTIONS
On my rooftop city stretching beyond. Sound of shadows in late night. You're pressing into me tease and tug. Posing your breasts, flinging out your arms. Gravel on your bare back. ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ NIGHT FRINGE We sit with our sticks stirring the lake, tired of being irritable... Telling old stories of when the sky was blue, the water drinkable, women skinny-dipping within our serenity. Now we wait for the last bite on the line pulling us under... Other men taking our places, not noticing the bubbling water. * Stephen Jarrell Williams loves to write, listen to his music, and dance late into the night. Based in California, his poetry had appeared in many publications – Night Fringe has previously appeared in Sage Trail Poetry Magazine and Drunk and Lonely Men.) Thursday, June 25
Fiona Glass is picking her way through a concrete jungle
by
Charles Christian
on Thu 25 Jun 2009 12:39 PM BST
Concrete Jungle
Clutch and thrust of the concrete jungle reminds me of you. Roots clutch at the soil, fingers of men buried alive, gasping their last into the thick brown earth. Stems thrust lightwards like cocks of men at play, criss-crossing, bobbing, stretching towards their life. Leaves clutch the sky, stitched to the heavens, your fingers in my hair. Your body a brown arrow as you dive, diamond drops capturing the light and holding it to ransom on your skin. You laugh, the sound echoing down the waterfall, smashed on the rocks below. It could so easily be you; I peer uneasily. You eel past my legs underwater, skin brushing skin, and you laugh again. Your voice as tantalising as your touch, promising more. Your teeth startling piano keys against your black moustache, but the piano does not make such sweet music as your voice. You emerge, a salmon leaping for the land, scattering the diamonds which wither, releasing their pent-up sun back to the sun. The sun warms your brown naked body as you lie, head pillowed on my chest, my heart speaking to your ear. Sudden flash of blue amongst the twisted shadows of fig trees: a jay scolds from a twig. Like sun on moving water they come out of the forest: a cerulean pillar of butterflies. Five, six, a dozen, their wings reflecting the reflection of the sky. They settle on your torso, painting it with light: cornflowers in coffee, blue eyes in a brown face. You raise your hand to brush them away. I catch it, bring it to my head. Your fingers take root in my hair. We are complete. * Fiona Glass writes darkly humorous fiction from a pointy house in Birmingham (the original one in the UK). You can find her work online at www.fiona-glass.com Fiona adds that this piece was inspired by the surrealist gardens at Las Posas, Xilitla, Mexico, which were designed and built by the English surrealist and patron Edward James in the early 20th century. Wednesday, June 24
Ian Hunter is wary of an unexploded poem
by
Charles Christian
on Wed 24 Jun 2009 06:16 PM BST
DANGER UNEXPLODED POEM
Of course, we shouldn’t have gone, but there was the lure of abandoned buildings. Barricades. Signs which said DANGER UXP. Unexploded poem, I explained to the others. Three of us ran the shadows down. Peeking into the smouldering crater to see the pulsing star of invention. Colours, ideas, and images, rhymes and reason, comparisons and truths, all residing in a crackling ball of energy Which died before us. Pulse slowing. Colours merging into bright red, then collapsing to black. Hearts in our mouths, we ran. Trying to get away before the unexploded poem exploded Now Pauline seems snooty, aloof. Always talking in short, clipped sentences that end in a surprising haiku moment. While Joey stands below yet another bedroom window. Using sonnets to praise the beauty inside, until the latest court order moves him on. And as if cursed or under a spell, I find that I can speak in rhyme. Just by touching this shrapnel, without fail, every, single, time. * Ian Hunter is a director of the Scottish writer’s collective known as Read Raw. His poems have appeared in various places in the UK, the USA and Canada.
Back on Twitter
by
Charles Christian
on Wed 24 Jun 2009 07:54 AM BST
Charles
Christian says... Yes, I know it was
only last month I said 'sod Twitter, it is completely pointless' but
now I'm back – at the request of
some of my digital nomad friends who say that actually it is a useful
way to
keep in touch if you live a peripatetic 24/7 lifestyle – although
admittedly this is using the technology as more of a group SMS texting
facility. I can be found at @ChristianUncut – and this time I'm going to try to concentrate on quality rather than quantity.
Tuesday, June 23
Mandy Pannett is looking at the leftovers from a downpour
by
Charles Christian
on Tue 23 Jun 2009 01:09 PM BST
LEAVINGS
Before the downpour and the flood, this stream was meant for sparrows as a spa. Now insects bubble in its yellow scum. Irresistible the side roads, like this mucky pocket-park where leaves of Merovingian gold still lurk like scratch-cards in the mud. Silver foil’s a metal dagger, trampled down between the roots, reds and blues of ice-cream wraps are banners in the grime. In one soft corner of the wood a plastic bag’s a thin white owl, puddles flecked in shattered glass a small and sparkling green. * Mandy Pannett is a regular contributor to IS&T. She runs an arts cafe, supports local writing groups and enjoys giving readings and running writing workshops. She has two poetry collections from Oversteps Books – Bee Purple and Frost Hollow. Monday, June 22
Two new poems by Katrina Naomi
by
Charles Christian
on Mon 22 Jun 2009 01:16 PM BST
February
And suddenly, we’re all artists - a Brueghel of dark against the heavy white, refashioning ourselves in monochrome. Polar bears squat the fir trees. Londoners loved up in this foam disco. And I’ve had my fight for today. ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ It Is Not True that I sent the twins to school in the same unwashed blouses all week, that they had Weetabix for tea every night in paper bowls, that either Christine or Julie made me a pot of coffee in bed every day, that either Christine or Julie cycled to the paper shop every morning to buy my Hello, that Christine dusted and Julie hoovered after school. It is not true that I can’t tell them apart. * Katrina Naomi's pamphlet Lunch at the Elephant & Castle (2008) is available from Templar Poetry - www.templarpoetry.co.uk - and she is working on a first full length collection – The Girl with the Cactus Handshake – due to be published by Templar Poetry in October. Sunday, June 21
Latest news round-up
by
Charles Christian
on Sun 21 Jun 2009 05:26 PM BST
* Hurry, hurry, hurry – this came in on Friday but you've still got a couple of days to act... The School of Literature & Creative Writing at the University of East Anglia and the Writers' Centre Norwich with support from Arts Council England, East, are offering two Fellowships to be held by a practising writer, one during the Autumn Semester 2009 (September to December) and one during the Spring Semester 2010 (January to July). Both Fellowships are open to writers in all genres, but the Fellows are expected to be able to teach in the area of fiction and/or poetry and to contribute to the WCN programme. The most recent UEA/WCN Fellows have been Toby Litt and Henry Sutton. The fee for each fellowship will be £8000. Accommodation will be provided as required. Closing date: 12 noon on 25 June 2009.
For full details on the application process see www.uea.ac.uk/hr/jobs/acad/am20.htm * MET Press is pleased to announce the publication of a new journal. The premiere issue of the biannual journal Modern Haibun & Tanka Prose, edited by Jeffrey Woodward, has been published in print, in PDF ebook, and in an online digital edition. This Summer 2009 issue is 184 pages in a trade paperback. ISSN 1947-606X. Modern Haibun & Tanka Prose, with this inaugural issue, establishes itself as the first and only periodical devoted exclusively to these two mixed prose-and-verse genres. Haibun and tanka prose belong to the ancient and venerable tradition of Japanese poetry and belles-lettres. Their practice has waned in modern Japan but, with the continuing popularity of their respective parent-forms, haiku and tanka, in the West, haibun and tanka prose are experiencing unprecedented growth and diverse experimentation from New York to London, from Berlin to Brisbane, and in small towns and open countryside around the globe. Haibun and tanka prose are busily revising the general literary map and, in doing so, quietly reforming haiku and tanka also. Modern Haibun & Tanka Prose, a biannual journal, faithfully represents the full range of styles and themes adopted by contemporary practitioners and intends to play a vanguard role in charting the rapid evolution of these genres. Check out Modern Haibun & Tanka Prose at www.themetpress.com/modernhaibunandtankaprose/masthead.html * Finally, Rosie Garner and regular IS&T contributor Nigel Pickard have just published issue 3 of their new poetry mag Fin – it's a no-frills (actually the production values are high) booklet (£12 for 4 issues) and we love their declaration of independence "Fin is funded by subscribers and nobody else. We wouldn't have it any other way." Hear, hear we say – organisations like the Arts Council are a distorting influence on poetry publishing – besides, what do a load of bureaucrats know about culture? For more details email thewritingshed@yahoo.co.uk Saturday, June 20
Midsummer haiga by Rachel Green
by
Charles Christian
on Sat 20 Jun 2009 07:01 PM BST
It's Midsummer's Night Eve (well it still is here in the UK) and what better than a faerie themed haiga...
 * Rachel Green is a regular IS&T haiga contributor – as well as a novel writer who will shortly become an novel author but she starts every day with walking her dogs and writing poetry. Friday, June 19
Something for the weekend - more erotic haiku
by
Charles Christian
on Fri 19 Jun 2009 05:43 PM BST
Following hard on the heels of Larry Kimmel's erotic collection from a fortnight ago, here we go with some more sensual haiku to set you up for the weekend...
his lust by moonlight which one of us the muse? between the billow of freshly washed sheets nubile naked midnight skinny dip ~ ~ ~ he calls her moonbeam winter night in bed imagining him . . . imagining it delayed flight not one tush cute as his * Wanda D. Cook lives in the USA. She is the coordinator of a local haiku group and the co-editor of the 2007 Members'Anthology of the Haiku Society of America. |
Recent Photos
Chap Book Shop
 Facebook Link
Twitter Updates Google Ads
Amazon Ads
|
||
