Three Poems by Danny P. Barbare
A Cup of Coffee
Holding
A
Cup
Of
Coffee
Sipping
On
My
Reflection
I
Am
Warm,
The
Ripples
Are
Gone.
Odd Day
A
Tin
Roof
White
Rain
In
The
Window
A
Red
Fire
Truck.
Thankful
Foggy and rainy,
A house
So warm and dry. A crackling
Fire. A pot of soup, and a
Window to sit by and sip a
Cup of hot tea.
Author’s Bio: Danny P. Barbare resides in the Southeast United States. He has a deep Southern accent. He says he loves pecan pie. His poetry has been published locally, nationally, and abroad. His poetry has appeared in Taj Mahal Review, India. He writes short poems.
A blog for Contemporary Literary Review India or CLRI. It publishes new announcements, releases, and blurbs meant for CLRI the literary journal hosted on http://literaryjournal.in/. Previously, literary issues were brought out on this blog with own domain. Authors and artists published here can still search their pieces but with http://contemporaryliteraryreview.blogspot.in/.
Tuesday, May 17, 2011
Monday, May 16, 2011
Chernobyl Year - Poetry Foundation - Pick of the week
This week CLRI has selected a poem Chernobyl Year by Jehanne Dubrow from Poetry Foundation, which promotes the campaign the American Life in Poetry initiated by Ted Kooser, United States Poet Laureate, 2004-2006.
Chernobyl Year by Jehanne Dubrow
We dreamed of glowing children,
their throats alive and cancerous,
their eyes like lightning in the dark.
We were uneasy in our skins,
sixth grade, a year for blowing up,
for learning that nothing contains
that heat which comes from growing,
the way our parents seemed at once
both tall as cooling towers and crushed
beneath the pressure of small things—
family dinners, the evening news,
the dead voice of the dial tone.
Even the ground was ticking.
The parts that grew grew poison.
Whatever we ate became a stone.
Whatever we said was love became
plutonium, became a spark
of panic in the buried world.
Author: When I (Ted Kooser) was a little boy, the fear of polio hung over my summers, keeping me away from the swimming pool. Atomic energy was then in its infancy. It had defeated Japan and seemed to be America’s friend. Jehanne Dubrow, who lives and teaches in Maryland, is much younger than I, and she grew up under the fearsome cloud of what atomic energy was to become.
Chernobyl Year by Jehanne Dubrow
We dreamed of glowing children,
their throats alive and cancerous,
their eyes like lightning in the dark.
We were uneasy in our skins,
sixth grade, a year for blowing up,
for learning that nothing contains
that heat which comes from growing,
the way our parents seemed at once
both tall as cooling towers and crushed
beneath the pressure of small things—
family dinners, the evening news,
the dead voice of the dial tone.
Even the ground was ticking.
The parts that grew grew poison.
Whatever we ate became a stone.
Whatever we said was love became
plutonium, became a spark
of panic in the buried world.
Author: When I (Ted Kooser) was a little boy, the fear of polio hung over my summers, keeping me away from the swimming pool. Atomic energy was then in its infancy. It had defeated Japan and seemed to be America’s friend. Jehanne Dubrow, who lives and teaches in Maryland, is much younger than I, and she grew up under the fearsome cloud of what atomic energy was to become.
Tuesday, May 10, 2011
Three Ekphrastic Poems by Neil Ellman
Three Ekphrastic Poems by Neil Ellman
Multiplication of the Arcs, 1954
(On the painting Multiplication of the Arcs, 1954 by Yves Tanguy)
In the land where breath escapes
No air, no clouds
Not of this world
A ghostly presence reigns
Not of any world
These shattered arcs
Abandoned children of the sky
Strewn like broken toys
Speaking gibberish
In the land where time decays
To bits and pieces of a life
As if multiplicity alone
Explains the curvature of space
In the land where breath escapes.
No one knows your name.
The Philosopher’s Conquest
(On the painting The Philosopher’s Conquest, 1914 by Giorgio de Chirico)
In this endless war
With artichokes for cannonballs
And listless streets
Like bloodless arteries—
We wait
It is 1:28 pm
Invasion imminent
We cower in the colonnades
Barely breathe—
And wait
The soldiers are gone as well
Trading valor for a chance to die
Another day
In yet another war—
They could not wait for us.
A windowless train departs
With trembling clouds of steam
Taking its chance on providence
And an unlikely peace—
We wait out turn
If it comes to it
We’ll eat each other’s flesh
With artichokes
To see another dawn
Or die where we were born.
Mao Tse-tung
(On the painting Mao Tse-tung from Series of Silk Screens by Andy Warhol, 1972)
His face
Is just a face
In blue
Like any other face
In blue
His face
Is blue
Not betraying
Who
And red
His face
Is just as blue
As red
Like any other face
Is red
So like a god
But not.
And green as fire
As fire is blue
And red
When nothing
Else is true.
Author’s Bio: Neil Ellman lives and writes in New Jersey (USA) and has published numerous poems in print and online journals throughout the world, as well as in five chapbooks of ekphrastic poetry, the most recent of which is Mirrors of Miró: Ekphrastic Reflections of the Art of Joan Miró (Flutter Press, 2011).
These are the ekphrastic poems based on the works of modern art by different artists. In each case, the title of the poem is the title of the original image.
Multiplication of the Arcs, 1954
(On the painting Multiplication of the Arcs, 1954 by Yves Tanguy)
In the land where breath escapes
No air, no clouds
Not of this world
A ghostly presence reigns
Not of any world
These shattered arcs
Abandoned children of the sky
Strewn like broken toys
Speaking gibberish
In the land where time decays
To bits and pieces of a life
As if multiplicity alone
Explains the curvature of space
In the land where breath escapes.
No one knows your name.
The Philosopher’s Conquest
(On the painting The Philosopher’s Conquest, 1914 by Giorgio de Chirico)
In this endless war
With artichokes for cannonballs
And listless streets
Like bloodless arteries—
We wait
It is 1:28 pm
Invasion imminent
We cower in the colonnades
Barely breathe—
And wait
The soldiers are gone as well
Trading valor for a chance to die
Another day
In yet another war—
They could not wait for us.
A windowless train departs
With trembling clouds of steam
Taking its chance on providence
And an unlikely peace—
We wait out turn
If it comes to it
We’ll eat each other’s flesh
With artichokes
To see another dawn
Or die where we were born.
Mao Tse-tung
(On the painting Mao Tse-tung from Series of Silk Screens by Andy Warhol, 1972)
His face
Is just a face
In blue
Like any other face
In blue
His face
Is blue
Not betraying
Who
And red
His face
Is just as blue
As red
Like any other face
Is red
So like a god
But not.
And green as fire
As fire is blue
And red
When nothing
Else is true.
Author’s Bio: Neil Ellman lives and writes in New Jersey (USA) and has published numerous poems in print and online journals throughout the world, as well as in five chapbooks of ekphrastic poetry, the most recent of which is Mirrors of Miró: Ekphrastic Reflections of the Art of Joan Miró (Flutter Press, 2011).
These are the ekphrastic poems based on the works of modern art by different artists. In each case, the title of the poem is the title of the original image.
Contemporary Literary Review: India, Issue: 1 Released
Contemporary Literary Review: India, Issue 1: 2010 Released
Contemporary Literary Review: India Issue 1: 2010
Introduction: Contemporary Literary Review: India, Issue 1 is a collection of some fine writings first published in the online journal of the same name during 2010. It presents five poems, one story, one critical essay and nine 55-Fiction pieces by the writers such as Aparajita, Khurshid Alam, Patricia Hilliard, Nayanathara, Aditya Shankar, Dr Sandhya Tiwari. It promises a fine read.
Contemporary Literary Review: India Issue 1: 2010
Introduction: Contemporary Literary Review: India, Issue 1 is a collection of some fine writings first published in the online journal of the same name during 2010. It presents five poems, one story, one critical essay and nine 55-Fiction pieces by the writers such as Aparajita, Khurshid Alam, Patricia Hilliard, Nayanathara, Aditya Shankar, Dr Sandhya Tiwari. It promises a fine read.
Monday, May 9, 2011
Mother's Day -- Pick of the week
Mother's Day -- Pick of the week
Mother’s Day is celebrated on various dates in different countries of the world. However, it is largely celebrated on second Sunday of May. May 8 is the second Sunday and CLRI is celebrating this day as Mother’s Day. CLRI has selected a poem in the pick of the week category titled Mother Nature by Khurshid Alam published in Muse India in the issue 29 in July-Aug 2009. This poem celebrates Nature as our Mother.
Mother Nature by Khurshid Alam
She must be motherly
We’re
Born
Cradled
And
We breathe
Grow
Find repose.
She yields us
Food
Shelter
A harmony to cherish.
She must be a temple.
Mother’s Day is celebrated on various dates in different countries of the world. However, it is largely celebrated on second Sunday of May. May 8 is the second Sunday and CLRI is celebrating this day as Mother’s Day. CLRI has selected a poem in the pick of the week category titled Mother Nature by Khurshid Alam published in Muse India in the issue 29 in July-Aug 2009. This poem celebrates Nature as our Mother.
Mother Nature by Khurshid Alam
She must be motherly
We’re
Born
Cradled
And
We breathe
Grow
Find repose.
She yields us
Food
Shelter
A harmony to cherish.
She must be a temple.
Thursday, May 5, 2011
Bharatnatyam by Tahera Mannan
Bharatnatyam by Tahera Mannan
The lucid flow of her dance
A marriage of mythology and philosophy
Evolution of the soul, body and psyche
I fell into a spiritual trance
The expression of pure joy and beauty
Her subtle actions bloom along
As she moves to the melodious song
Portraying love, fear, anger and duty
Her dance an illusion on my soul
A blissful state in the air
A snow white swan in prayer
This devdasi with enticing eyes of kohl
Author's Bio: Tahera Mannan from Nagpur, (Maharshtra), is an emerging poet. She has written over 250 poems and participated in many cultural and literary festivals such as the Kritya International Poetry Festival organised at L.A.D.& S.R.P. College for Women, Nagpur (India) etc.
Tahera seems to be enthralled by the classical dance from Bharatnatyam of India. This was traditionally performed by devdasis, who were women living in temples.
The lucid flow of her dance
A marriage of mythology and philosophy
Evolution of the soul, body and psyche
I fell into a spiritual trance
The expression of pure joy and beauty
Her subtle actions bloom along
As she moves to the melodious song
Portraying love, fear, anger and duty
Her dance an illusion on my soul
A blissful state in the air
A snow white swan in prayer
This devdasi with enticing eyes of kohl
Author's Bio: Tahera Mannan from Nagpur, (Maharshtra), is an emerging poet. She has written over 250 poems and participated in many cultural and literary festivals such as the Kritya International Poetry Festival organised at L.A.D.& S.R.P. College for Women, Nagpur (India) etc.
Tahera seems to be enthralled by the classical dance from Bharatnatyam of India. This was traditionally performed by devdasis, who were women living in temples.
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