Poems 2014 by country (selected by the judges)
Argentina
La muñeca
Desde la bohardilla, en silencio,
el baúl desborda de recuerdos:
tesoros del pasado …
perdidos entre el polvo y la humedad.
En esa tierra de memorias escondidas,
lo olvidado yace inmóvil.
Y sin mortajas espera.
Descubro y sigo un río
de terciopelo azul profundo y oscuro
que se desliza entre cintas de seda ondulantes,
mientras sus orillas rompen
en espuma de encaje bordado.
Ahí veo lo blando dejar su lugar a lo frágil:
una eterna sonrisa de porcelana,
brazos pequeños que llaman y acogen,
pies mínimos sin peso y
una mirada celeste claro
fija
en el péndulo inmóvil de un reloj
que ya no recuerda
los juegos furtivos que se llevó el tiempo.
Alejandra Miranda
2009, Argentina
ALEJANDRA MIRANDA (La Paz, Entre Ríos - Argentina): Artist, curator and writer. She has been writing poetry since 1990; some of her poems have been rewarded and published. During the last four years, she has been hybridizing techniques and including texts in her paintings and digital collages.
Canada
LAUGHING STAR
Please don't miss the star
shining above
like an eye watching us
mourning for this
and that
while elsewhere
someone is weaving
mornings and laughs
surrounding miseries
spinning all around
Please stop mourning
and watch the star above
laughing all around !
Huguette Bertrand
Quebec, Canada
May 6th 2014
Bertrand, Huguette (Canada)
Huguette Bertrand est une poète et éditrice canadienne, membre
de l'Union des écrivains québécois. Au cours des 30 dernières
années, elle a publié 25 ouvrages de poésie dont plusieurs avec
d'illustrations. Elle a participé à des récitals, animé des ateliers de
poésie au Québec et en France, collaboré à des revues littéraires au
Québec, en France et en Belgique.
http://www.espacepoetique.com/
______________________________________________________________
I Am
I am the stars,
the wind, a crystal,
a blade of grass,
a feather.
I am entropy –
a random assortment
of oxygen, carbon,
hydrogen, nitrogen
and trace elements
in a body
that happens to exist
at this point in time,
its individuality
organically interconnected
to the universal;
I am a body that possesses
limited cognition –
an integral
but trivial speck
of infinity.
I am a part of the universe.
I am the universe.
I exist. I am.
Io sono
Sono le stelle,
il vento, un cristallo,
un filo d’erba,
una piuma.
Sono entropia –
un assortimento casuale
di ossigeno, cabonio,
idrogeno, azoto
e oligoelementi
dentro un corpo
che esiste
in questo momento,
la sua individualità
organicamente interconnessa
all'universale;
io sono un corpo che possiede
cognizione limitata –
un integrante
ma banale granello
dell’infinito.
Sono una parte dell’universo.
Io sono l’universo.
Io esisto. Io sono.
Fern G. Z. Carr
Canada
A member of The League of Canadian Poets, Carr is a former lawyer, teacher and past Director/President of the Kelowna branch of the Society for the Prevention of Cruelty to Animals. She composes and translates poetry in five languages and has been published extensively world-wide from Finland to the Seychelles. Carr was deeply honoured to have been nominated for the Pushcart Prize as well as having had one of her poems selected by the Parliamentary Poet Laureate as Poem of the Month for Canada. She was thrilled to have had one of her haiku sent to the planet Mars aboard NASA's MAVEN spacecraft.
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verbi comuni
tutto è già qui,
nei toni gravi delle campane
quando l'ultima anima dell’autunno
spinge il buio
verso i margini invisibili dei campi
tout est déjà là,
dans la voix basse des cloches
quand la dernière âme de l'automne
pousse l'obscurité
vers les lignes invisibles des champs
Elis Podnar,
Canada
Podnar, Élis (Canada)
Photographe et poète, Elis Podnar est née en Roumanie en 1973.
Depuis 2002 elle habite à Toronto, Canada. Elle écrit des poèmes
surtout en français, anglais et roumain. Sa photographie s’inspire
de la nature ou d'espace citadin, en cherchant d’enrichir le sens des
formes et de la lumière.
https://www.facebook.com/elis.podnar?ref=ts&fref=ts
_____________________________________________________
Autumn Rain
The drizzle has finally stopped
All the wet has swarmed into raindrops
And fallen flat on the ground
Except this one that continues traveling along
Lingering
Soon it will slip out the twig’s desperate hold
Like a gold coin between a dying miser’s fingers
The last leaf of a naked tree
The last dew of a forgotten season
Changming Yuan
Canada
http://www.pw.org/content/changming_yuan_0
Changming Yuan, 8-time Pushcart nominee and author of Chansons of a Chinaman (2009) and Landscaping (2013), grew up in rural China,holds a PhD in English, and currently tutors in Vancouver, where he co-edits Poetry Pacific with Allen Qing Yuan and operates PP Press. Most recently interviewed by [PANK] and World Poetry (cfro100.5fm), Yuan has poetry appearing in Asia Literary Review Best Canadian Poetry, BestNewPoemsOnline, London Magazine, Threepenny Review and 809 other literary journals/anthologies across 28 countries
Comoros
NIVAQUINE
Tout
Ce que
Nous mangeons
A le goût
De nivaquine
On veut
Nous faire croire
Que c’est
Le contraire
En nous
Injectant à la bouche
A compte-goutte
Du lait frelaté
Et la nouvelle
Se propage
Que
Nous buvons
du lait frais
Et que
Nous dormons
Les poings serrés
Vive la république
Attoumane Ahmed Cheik
Ouani-anjouan
Comores
Attoumane Ahmed Cheik est né le 09 sept 1968 aux Comores.
Il a fait ses études universitaires à Fès au Maroc et il est prof de langue française au lycée.
Il est aussi musicien, il joue du clavier dans son groupe “Joujou des Comores”. Il est aussi le président d’ un club de lecture et d 'écriture JOAL(Jeunes Ouaniens Amoureux de la Littérature).
Sa passion est la lecture et l 'écriture.
Lien: joalblog.wordpress.com
Israel
Between the Banal and the Eternal
A border of boulders has been erected
to prevent the orchard from falling into the valley
and it is here that we stand
lost in its silence, looking down on the land,
on its fields and its fish ponds,
on this wealth of earth
in the warmth of its summer
Almost-ripe apples bulge on their branches,
nectarines too, large but leaden,
wait for sweetness to seep in
Here is the real world, up in these orchards
and below in the valley, human-free and serene,
forgotten by a civilization which has chosen
to conglomerate into jittery cities,
to rise higher and higher in impossible structures,
looking down through glass and window planters
at congestion and frustration
in robotic symbiosis, at clones of themselves
While here in the only reality
the meaning of existence is written
in the parchment of its orchards,
in the richness of its fields,
the fullness of its fishponds,
the purity of its breath,
sweet as peace
In a world that hovers
between the banal and the eternal
as the sun sets in the heat
of a solstice eve
© 6.2008 Helen Bar-Lev
Israël
Helen Bar-Lev has lived in Israël for 42 years and has held over 90 exhibitions of her landscape paintings, 33 of which were one-person shows. She has published and illustrated six collections of poetry and has been nominated for the Pushcart Prize. She is Assistant President of Voices Israël and Senior Editor of Cyclamens and Swords Publishing. She lives in Metulla, Israël
______________________________________________________________
Waves
Between you and me
stand seven warring nations,
three oceans,
and at least five mountain ranges.
It is cold where you are.
Autumn comes early,
and the north wind beats against your skin,
while I go barefoot in the warm sand
all year round.
You walk along the shore.
I study the horizon.
But every time you reach down
and dip your fingers in the sea,
the waves come rushing at my feet.
Onde
Tra te e me
ci sono sette nazioni in guerra,
tre oceani,
e almeno cinque catene montuose.
Fa freddo dove ti trovi.
L' autunno arriva presto,
e il vento del nord batte contro la tua pelle,
mentre io vado a piedi nudi nella sabbia calda
tutto l'anno.
Tu cammini lungo la riva.
Io studio l'orizzonte.
Ma ogni volta che tu vai giù
e immergi le dita in mare,
le onde arrivano veloci ai miei piedi.
Julie Mendelsohn
Israël
Julie Bloch Mendelsohn lives with her family in Israël. Her work has been published in Poetica Magazine, The Poetry Society of Vermont's Mountain Troubadour, Lilipoh Magazine, and the website Chabad.org. She also works as lawyer for holocaust survivors, and on cancer research.
Poetry Society of Vermont, The Mountain Troubadour, May 2014
______________________________________________________________
Dance of words
Her words
Like ballerinas
Leap feather-like
Off the page
And land softly
On their toes
In our thoughts
Although she
Pirouettes
To the left
Our reveries
Enchaines
To the right
Still she holds us
In a spell
Not of an evil
Sorcerer
But on some
Dainty thread
Of a cobweb
Of words
She has entranced
Our feelings
And like Hamelin’s
Rats and children
We follow
Partnering her words
Channah Moshe
Israël
Born in Jerusalem and grown up in Switzerland and England, Channah Moshe accomplished her Master in Fine Arts in the States, following which she returned to Israël.
Her balance to life's stress is: ballroom dancing, homeopathy, photography, reading and writing.
Her poems have been published in ARC21, Prosopisia and Muddy River Poetry Review to name a few.
____________________________________________________________
Latvia
MY PAINTINGS
Friends and child—
All of my paintings
In a corner
During the night
To whom I can whisper
My love with pain
Slowly in my dream
Becomes laughs and tears
And I am now awaiting
for inspiration
Живопись моя
Подруга, друг, ребенок –
Все живопись моя.
С которою до ночи
В углу могу шептать.
Любить ее до боли
И тихо с ней мечтать.
Печалиться, смеяться
И вдохновенья ждать.
Nadezda Krivohizina
Latvia
Krivohizina, Nadezda (Latvia)
Nadezda Krivohizina was born in Daugavpils (Latvia). She is a poet and an artist.
She has worked as a free artist since 2000. She uses different techniques
and different styles (realism, impressionism and abstraction). Her
art works are in private collections in Latvia, Sweden, Poland,
Great Britan. Her works have been shown in group and personal
exhibitions in Latvia and abroad.
Kenya
MADNESS
it seems like an eternity since we talked,
but its only been two days,
two days from hell,
nothing makes sense,
not the sun ,
not my shoes,
all because i am nothing without you,
and you are my cocaine,
my heroine ,
my sweet little addiction ,
but now i have to learn to live without you,
and make sense out of this non sense,
I dont know how,
Or if i will survive,
But i have to face this madness ,
This madness we call life.
Pray for me.
Welby Osomo Olubayo
Nairobi Kenya
Welby Olubayo is an 18 years old poet who
enjoys reading very much. He lives in Kenya and aspires to become a
successful writer and animator.
Macedonia
SENTENZA
Ti sveglierai, ma non potrai
muovere neanche la testa.
Il sogno tra i canuti,
capelli ossei, impiantato
rendendoli tirati tutti –
inchiodati
Legando il risveglio
ai pali notturni.
Tu sei un gigante espulso da
una terra lontana.
Il cielo assurdo,
del sole assetato pupille scava.
Tutta l’eternità tira l’esercito
delle vocine squillanti.
Improvvisamente, sul naso
il nano si arrampica.
Lungo il megafono, fino all'orecchio,
camminando sul volto
Grida ad alta voce: "Se sei
nemico, ti uccideremo! "
Statua dorata del loro re
lancia le frecce avvelenate.
Rispondi in panico:
"Sono un amico, un amico ..."
Per tutta la notte ti lasciano,
svegliarti un’altra volta
convinto
che il tuo corpo finirà
sulla riva dell’oceano
e vento dell’alto mare blu...
Squamanti tue labbra come la pelle
del serpente mutato.
L’elicottero di combattimento
sul petto atterra.
Minuscolo regnante
ordina scapigliatura ...
Dalle federe
alzi la testa e riveli
che sei sopravvissuto al sogno
senza conoscere la sentenza ...
Borče Panov
(traduzione in italiano di Bogdana Trivak)
Macedonia
ПРЕСУДА
Ќе се пробудиш, а нема да можеш
да си ја помрднеш главата.
Сонот во побелена,
коскена коса ти израснал
и секое влакно ти го оптегнал,
и заковал со будењето
за колците на ноќта.
Џин си исфрлен од едно
далечно копно.
Апсурдно небо жедни сонца
ти копа во очите.
Цела вечност те влече армија
пискави гласчиња.
Одеднаш, на врвот од носот,
ти се искачува џуџенце.
Ти оди со мегафон по лицето –
се до увото.
Ти вика на сет глас
„Ако си непријател, ќе те убиеме!„
Златниот кип на нивниот крал,
отровни стрели ти фрла.
Низ паника одговараш
„Пријател сум, пријател...„
Те оставаат цела ноќ, у
ште еднаш да се пробудиш
во убедувањето дека мршата
ќе ти скапува на брегот од океанот
без едро и ветар на сината шир...
Усните ти се лупат
како кожа од преслечена змија.
Едно борбено хеликоптерче
ти слетува врз градите.
Од него, ситното кралче
наредува да те потстрижат...
Си ја подигаш главата од перницата
и сфаќаш дека си го преживеал сонот
без да ја дознаеш пресудата....
Борче Панов
Borce Panov was born in Radovis, Macedonia, and graduated Macedonian language and literature at the Faculty of philology in Skopje, in 1986.A member of the Macedonian Writers’ Association since 1998 and a member of the association’s Presidency since 2008. He writes poetry, plays and essays and until now has published several books.
Borce Panov is employed as senior administrator for educational and cultural matters in the Municipality of Radovis , and he is also an artistic coordinator for the International Poetry Event known as “Karamanovs’ Meetings” , that have been held for 45 years in Radovis in honor of the poet and hero Aco Karamanov.
Tunisia
Tel un rêve
Tel un rêve tu es apparue dans ma vie
souriante , si amoureuse de ma poésie
Emerveillement dans le regard jamais vu
T’éclairait le visage une expression émue
On dirait que depuis longtemps on s’est connus
Quel charme sur tes lèvres disant des mots doux
où à mon cœur l’admiration donnait un goût
d’élixir et un souffle de jouvence inouï
J’étais ému et agréablement surpris
Pour la première fois je t’ai vue devant moi
me souvenant de ton prénom avec émoi
des échos si profonds que suscitait en toi
ma poésie sur l’amour, les joies et les peines,
et la lutte des humains pour briser leurs chaînes
De parler tu n’avais pas besoin. Me disaient
tes yeux, ton beau sourire, ton geste évoluant
avec tant de grâce que ravie tu étais
de me rencontrer sans distance ni écran
Mahmoud Ben Jemâa
23/11/2013
Tunis
Tunisie
United Kingdom
" LOVERS IN THE GREEN FERNS "
THE BLACK PYRAMIDS OF THE NIMBLE WITTED TOWN
HAVE A STRONG SUIT, A TENDER YEARNING, A TANG
OF REMORSE THAT FILLS THE SPITTLED LUNG TONIGHT
CLOSED MIND VISIONS TEND TO HANG IN THE AIR
LIKE A BOY'S DREAM OF DELICIOUS SUMMERS OF CHILDHOOD,
PONDERING VIOLENT TUMBLES AND A BAG OF HOT CHIPS
WHEN I WAS A COTTED BABY BORN INTO THE WELSH VALLEYS
WITH GRIPE WATER FLAVOURED WITH ACTIVISTS PAMPHLETS
SURROUNDED WITH DIRTY, FILTHY BRUTALLY DANGEROUS INDUSTRIES
A FATHER BATTERED BY RUFFIAN'S BROKEN TRUNCHEONS
SPLITTING HEADS LIKE COSSACK SWORDS
FISTS AND VOICES RAISED AROUND MY CRADLE
AS BROTHERS STOOD STARING OVER THE EDGE OF VIOLENCE
DARING EACH OTHER TO STAMP HOBNAILED
ONTO THE ENTRAILS OF THE MINE'S MASTER
BUT TRIPPING OVER LOVERS IN THE GREEN FERNS,
WHILE CHASING THE IMPERIALIST RUNNING DOG
AND SNATCHING THE RED RUSSIAN MONEY FOR OLD SOUP
CHILDREN SHOUTING " RICE PUDDING IN THE VESTRY "
AND RACING LIKE MOUNTAIN HARES SPOON ARMED
TO DEVOUR THE SYNTHETIC RUBBER, NON-SUGARED GRUEL
FROM " THE SOLIDARITY FOREVER " SOUP KITCHEN
CALLING A TRUCE ON OUR DIGESTIVE TRACTS
WITH A DIET THAT BORE NO DIFFERENCE TO A PRISON
GROWN MEN SAT, TALKED, SHOUTED, AND SPAT
GAMBLING WITH BUTTONS AND PINS, UNTIL
THE 1930'S LOCK-OUT WAS OVER AND CORPSED
THE FAIRGROUND RIDE OF LIFE JERKED STUBBORNLY
INTO A GREASED RE-BIRTH AND LIFE ITSELF
BOILED THE GOODNESS OUT OF OUR BONES
Tim Williams
Feb. 14 2014
Ammanford
Wales UK
Tim Williams is a poet/ singer songwriter who has 2 albums out with the band The Shamoncies. His poetry has been published in both the UK and America. He was born and still lives in Wales UK.
United States of America
NAMING THE BIRDS
Tired of naming cattle & fish,
Adam turned to the birds.
“Raven,” he said;
then “dove,”
prophetically,
these first creatures of the air
who’d be symbols in a later time
of rain and flood and rainbow.
Of the birds who would
sing at dawn and dusk
he had little interest;
so Eve decided to try
her onomastic skill.
“Nightingale,” she whispered.
“Ibis, heron, flamingo,
parrot, peacock, tanager,”
mystery, grace, magnificence
of thought, motion, and design.
It took a woman
to properly name
the birds of Paradise.
DARE UN NOME AGLI UCCELLI
Stanco di dare il nome ai bovini e ai pesci,
Adamo si rivolse agli uccelli.
"Corvo", disse;
poi "colomba"
profeticamente,
queste prime creature dell'aria
che sarebbero stati simboli in un secondo momento
di pioggia e inondazioni e arcobaleno.
Degli uccelli che avrebbero
cantato all'alba e al tramonto
aveva poco interesse;
così Eva decise di provare
la sua abilità onomastica.
"Usignolo", sussurrò.
"Ibis, airone, fenicottero,
pappagallo, pavone, fringuello"
mistero, grazia, magnificenza
di pensiero, di movimento e di progetto.
Ci volle una donna
per citare correttamente
gli uccelli del Paradiso.
—Stanley H. Barkan
New York
USA
Barkan, Stanley H. (U.S.A)
Stanley H. Barkan is the editor/publisher of Cross-Cultural Communications, is also a poet who has published 16 collections. His latest: Sailing the Yangtze, translated into Chinese by Hong Ai Bai, collages by John Digby (The Feral Press, 2014). Poem&image previously published as Cross-Cultural Communications Art & Poetry Broadside Series # 70 (2013).
http://www.cross-culturalcommunications.com/
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IN THE MIDST OF MYSTERY
for Dylan Thomas
Sequins, strawberries,
the cracked moon . . .
Bowing to the worms
behind the masks,
I watch as skulls drift
on a silvery path
going nowhere.
The darkened, mute forest
tunnels my soul’s cries.
Listening to that
which is of no man,
I climb the chords
of your flute’s song.
Your passion’s music
guides me with invisible hand
to a choir of pale angels
on their knees.
From there we travel
the infinite spirit of things
to the edge of all melody.
Then dangling over the abyss,
beholding endless horizons,
we are swept
by a crimson wind,
back to the origins
of all lovers and demons.
There we pause,
in the midst of mystery . . .
Carolyn Mary Kleefeld
Big Sur
USA
Kleefeld, Carolyn Mary (U.S.A.)
Carolyn Mary Kleefeld is an American poet, author and visual
artist now living in Big Sur, California. Her 12 books have been
used as inspirational texts in universities and healing centers.
Multilingually translated poet. Kleefeld’s art appears worldwide in
galleries, museums and private collections.
http://www.carolynmarykleefeld.com/
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The Blue of The Sky Never Ceases
See beauty in the chaos
The broken limbs of trees
And salt burnt branches
Of once thriving trees
The sun still warms in mid December
And geese fly past in neat formations
And the blue of the sky never ceases
L'azzurro del cielo non finisce mai
Vedere la bellezza nel caos
Le membra spezzate degli alberi
E i rami bruciati dal sale
Di alberi un tempo fiorenti.
Il sole scalda ancora a metà dicembre
E le oche volano in formazioni ordinate
E l'azzurro del cielo non finisce mai.
Marsha Solomon
New York
USA
Marsha Solomon has been living and working as a poet and a painter in New York. Her work has been presented in museums and galleries in the US and Europe, and has been the subject of four recent solo exhibitions.
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Out, Not In
after a Persian tale
A woman long living alone
bought a parrot to keep her company.
She tried to teach it to talk,
but her house remained empty of conversation.
So, she put out a “room for rent” sign
and a student of philosophy moved in.
He left early his first day and returned late.
The woman asked where he was when he was out.
He answered that when he was out, he was not in.
Remember: I told you he was a student of philosophy.
The next day the student again
left early and returned late,
this time bringing home a crow hit in traffic.
With the crow now sharing his cage,
the parrot spoke its very first words,
"Where did they find such a hideous creature?"
The crow thought,
"What misfortune to be paired with this babbling idiot."
Neal Whitman
Pacific Grove, California
USA
Neal Whitman was born in Boston, Massachusetts, and today lives in Pacific Grove, California. Whitman took up writing poetry in 2005 when he was in transition from a long career in medical education, where he had promulgated the reading of poetry as part of learning the art of medicine. Since his retirement from the University of Utah School of Medicine, Whitman has served as an editor and member of the advisory board of Pulse: Voices from the Heart of Medicine. He also is director of docent training at the Robinson Jeffers Tor House in Carmel, California.
Award winning poet.
Risultati del Premio Letterario 2019
