Pomegranate Seeds:An Anthology of Greek-American Poetry

Pomegranate Seeds
An Anthology of Greek-American Poetry
Dean Kostos, Editor
Somerset Hall Press 2008
ISBN 978-09774610-4-2
$19.95

The introduction, preface to this anthology is
informative. Dean Kostos gives us reason to explore
and investigate, not just, the history he refers to in
the preface, but, also, the contents of this anthology
of Greek-American poetry. The poets, and poems are as
diverse as America, and as steeped in pride as Greece.
“We too are inspired not only by our ancient heritage,
but also by its subsequent manifestations, when Greek
culture commingled with others.” The connection
between the poets is their heritage, their voices are,
at once, strong and humble.

Thereafter, a brief biography of each of the forty
nine poets sets up an understanding, the poet’s
relationship drawn between two cultures. In all the
writing, the poems seem inseparable from the poet and
their influences. Pages flow into the next, similar to
a mountain stream after the spring rain. The poems
emerge, overflow, careen down, rich with life the
poems feed our commitment to each other as a whole. I
present a small sampling of some of the accomplished
poet’s poems from ‘Pomegranate Seeds.’

Eleni Fourtouni

“I performed the libation at sunset:
milk and honey, wine and olive oil,
enough for a hundred traitors.
once they played tag…”

John Bradley

“I tell you I didn’t die.
I just never bothered
to turn back”

Ioanna Carlsen

“The bigness of the arc going each way,
never deviating in its rhythm.
the back, the forth
the pen writing its line
and then returning,
starting over again…”

Constantine Contogenis

“Before his father told him
the idea of windows, he
loved both sides of walls, locusts
leaving carapaces, ewes…”

Penelope Karageorge

“…the stones await me.
I swallow them with salt and greens and weep.

Irene Koronas
Poetry Editor
Wilderness House Literary Review
Reviewer: Ibbetson Street Press

In Chambers: The Boddhisatva of the Public Defender’s Office by Richard Krech

In Chambers: The Boddhisatva of the Public Defender’s Office
by Richard Krech
sunnyoutside
44 pages/ $10

By Thomas Gagnon

Richard Krech has convictions, which engaged my attention and respect. Krech observes that criminal law operates violently. He makes this clear from the first poem, onwards. (This is also clear from Dickens’ Bleak House or Sondheim’s Sweeney Todd.) He then establishes his role as peace-maker and liberator—overall, a life-giving force in a deadly environment. Kudos to Krech, the lawyer.

Krech, the poet, does use poetic devices, like alliteration, but he uses too few and too rarely. Too many of his poems read like news articles cut into varying line lengths that could be pasted back into the article format.

Meanwhile, onward to what works—
The opening poem, “In Chambers,” is also one of the best poems in the book. First compared to poker, a card game of deception and suspense, the courtroom dramas soon become ominously violent, featuring opponents, powder and ammunition, and corrosion—or worse, destruction—of a human being. The indelibly rhythmic assonance of the phrase “Advocates and adversaries” starts both the second stanza and the poem’s recurrent metaphor of courtroom-as-war. This soon leads to a Darth Vader “black robe at the center/of attention, the center of power.” The judge is an unfeeling robe. In the next stanza also, Krech delivers the horror of the courtroom scene.

At poem’s end, Krech asserts, “There is no symbolism here.” He follows this assertion with aptly terse statements, concluding with “and destroy [a whole life].” Well said.

That Robe from “In Chambers” re-appears later in “Virtual Justice,” where again it plays an unfeeling role, as it “two way video conferences/with a concrete cell/miles away…” While “the Robe” depersonalizes the judge, the conference is depersonalized by video technology. Later on, the alliteration of “Dejected distracted” is attention-getting, perhaps to make the reader wonder, are the prisoners distracted by their dejection? Here is a place where I also wonder, why doesn’t Krech use alliteration in other poems? Ultimately, Krech zeroes in on this illusory, virtual, and therefore, injustice.

In Chambers has other good poems, like “Deconstructing the Prosecution’s Case,” and other good devices, like the drive through the fruitful valley into the unchanging town center and then into the
battle of the courtroom. More often, however, Krech is not using language in an engaging, memorable way. His subject deserves more style than he is giving it.



--Thomas Gagnon

Ibbetson Press Book "Housekeeping" by Philip Burnham Jr. featured on NPR's

* Click on banner to get on Writer's Almanac site. Check archive if after April 4, 2008 for audio clip


Ibbetson Press Book "Housekeeping" by Philip Burnham Jr. featured on NPR's The Writer's Almanac



by Doug Holder




Poetry
Ibbetson Poet Philip Burnham featured on NPR''s Writers Almanac. From his poetry collection "Housekeeping" (Ibbetson 2005)




Poem: "Assignment #1: Write a poem about Baseball and God" by Philip E. Burnham, Jr. from Housekeeping: Poems Out of the Ordinary. © Ibbetson Street Press, 2005. Reprinted with permission.

Assignment #1: Write a poem about Baseball and God

And on the ninth day, God
In His infinite playfulness
Grass green grass, sky blue sky,
Separated the infield from the outfield,
Formed a skin of clay,
Assigned bases of safety
On cardinal points of the compass
Circling the mountain of deliverance,
Fashioned a wandering moon
From a horse, a string and a gum tree,
Tempered weapons of ash,
Made gloves from the golden skin of sacrificial bulls,
Set stars alight in the Milky Way,
Divided the descendants of Cain and Abel into contenders,
Declared time out, time in, stepped back,
And thundered over all of creation:
"Play ball

Turning Tables by Heather and Rose MacDowell

Turning Tables by Heather and Rose MacDowell
By Shannon O’Connor

The Dial Press, a division of Random House, Inc.
New York, New York
April 2008
$24.00
www.dialpress.com


Turning Tables was left behind at the Bagel Bards at Au Bon Pain one Saturday mornng as a joke. “We’re going to start doing chick lit books,” was received to dubious laughter. Almost everyone left and the lonely book was abandoned on the table. The few stragglers picked it up, and I decided I would read it, even though I had never dipped my toes into the chick lit sea before, but I was ready to take the plunge.

Erin Edwards, the heroine of the novel, loses her job in marketing, and a family friend gives her a recommendation to work in an upscale Manhattan restaurant. She has no experience in fine dining, but she tries to fake knowledge of food, wine and service.

The characters are extremely one dimensional: there’s the gay waiter/ aspiring actor, the nursing student who works at the restaurant at night, the lifetime waiter, the nasty Italian manager who doesn’t speak proper English, and of course, the crazy cooks.

The dialogue is stilted. The characters say things that should have been said already. At a private party at which Erin serves, a mother says to her daughter, “Look at me when I’m talking to you. There are three decent schools in Manhattan and you’ve blown through two of them.”

I kept reading, not because the characters were interesting or they had something to say, but because the story and plot were fast and intriguing. Erin was always getting into some kind of mishap at work. She had a fling with a guy just because she thought he was hot. And the fate of the restaurant was always in her hands. The managers couldn’t stand her, because she was not quick enough. She despised working there, and she felt ashamed that she had fallen from a professional job to waiting tables. She was embarrassed to tell people she met that she was a waitress. She went to an upscale party with her boyfriend and she felt “like a maid in her mistress’s clothes.”

Even though the book is chick lit, it deals with certain issues about class in America. Of course it is possible for the upper middle class to "fall" to working class, especially in the economic turmoil our country faces now. The character Erin was making a good salary in marketing and eating at the best restaurant in Manhattan, then she lost her job and became a waitress. She felt embarrassed. There shouldn’t be a reason to feel embarrassed about having a job and doing it well. She didn’t do her job well, but she improved as the book wore on, and she didn’t crack under pressure. Serving people could make anyone break, but survival is the goal. I survived this book and came out unscathed, but I don’t know if I’d swim in the chick lit sea again.

*Shannon O'Connor is a recent graduate of U/Mass Boston, and works at Starbucks on Beacon Hill.

Ten Poems about East Asia & Kitsch Nebula Ampersands And: Ralph-Michael Chiaia

Ten Poems About East Asia

&

Kitsch Nebula Ampersands And:

Poems by Ralph-Michael Chiaia

Coatlism Press, copyright 2007

Pages = 47.





Review by Lo Galluccio



Genius book. I wanted to review it because it’s about a part of the world—East Asia -- I only begin to see through the faces and ideas of my Korean and Japanese students at Berlitz. This is not a book about that part of Asia, however, except for a few poems about Seoul. What’s super-cool though is this book is also full of what I like about experimental work: his code lists, symbols, concrete language and wild juxtapositions of great post-modern verse.



“I like to keep perspective,” Suzanne Vega adroitly sings. So does Chiaia. (His bio says that he resides on Long Island but travels the world armed with his pens and laptop-- you can tell.) This book is an enticing travelogue of portraits of places and people from New York City to Singapore.



His wings are in the mixture of cultural references, combined with a love of Asian ambience and history, and New York’s splaying multi-cultural virtues and vices. The first part of the book, Part 1, “Ten Poems about East Asia” are dedicated to his homeland of East Asia, notably Thailand. (This is my guess, though it is not explicitly stated.) Although he writes with a conscientious and lucid notation of many catastrophes-- only one of which is a scorched Vietnam from the U.S. War against it-- there is a playfulness and richness of language that seems to come from the decadence of a narcotic-filled nights in Bangkok or Hong Kong.





Manila:



“She’s up in the afternoon

nose stuffed up from too much

alcohol. She washes the cum off her.



*****



hope that tomorrow

will be real

not another fantasy --

her cellphone buzzes.”

p. 14



On the close of the Vietnam War in Phnom Penh he snaps this shot:

(circa 1975):



“the motorcycles dust bowl

the place now



where the Khmer Army,

all boys,



took all the guys wearing glasses,

the doctors, the teachers,



the nurses

to labor camps



to the killing fields

to the Teng Sleng”



p. 12





The Kitsch Part 2 Section is full of Odes to many things. There are several sarcastic but true enough Odes to America that hit hard and funny. Here’s one example:



ODE TO AMERICA



“America big baby playing with toys

nobody else has

in a room full of boys.”



p. 33





Against this stake to the heart of America’s big boy greed and ridiculousness is a Ginsberg-esque piece called, “Ode for the Fucking Sake of it” that captures the freedom and cravings the US engenders & which suddenly darkens down with an iteration of 9/11.





“I want

the honking, smell of knishes and sauerkraut

and delicious peanuts that taste like shit

I want

The Latinas with hoops and jeeps

the parks and it’s craziness:

man in grey suit playing flute

woman in fountain giving speech

SWAT team in gear

Invisible on rooftops, in vans…”



“the bodegas selling dope

speaking Spanish

the passersby blowing kisses at men’s dates

the many saying yum to the tall girl in heels

the dog run, the chess tables, the arches….”





And then a jumbo jet turns right back into the World Trade Towers and Chiaia returns us to the brutal realities under the surface, or just behind them now, where other brutalities have taken their place:



“the terrorist attacks, the steel burning, the buildings falling,

the smoke that stayed, hovered, stank

of burning flesh and steel

the following antipathy, altruism, and apathy.”





Chiaia is a unique trip-hoppy visionary of language and this book encompasses war and peace, lyricism and death, and hit or miss mixes with strangers, especially women. It’s cover is forest green swirled with an image of a battleship the color of money and spring.





Lo Galluccio

Ibbetson St. Press

Poet Heather Madden: A Recent Transplant to Somerville’s Rich Artistic Milieu

Poet Heather Madden: A Recent Transplant to Somerville’s Rich Artistic Milieu

Somerville poet Heather Madden is in the midst of a love affair. It was love at first sight with the city of Somerville. She loves the mixture of artists, the generations of families that reside here, the Sherman Café, the eclectic shops of Union Square and the general enthusiasm for the Arts the ‘ville embodies. Madden, who lives in the Union Square/Winter Hill Section area of the city, told the News that her Somerville neighborhood is: “quiet enough” for her to write and she loves the view of a historic home across the way from her flat.

Madden is a published poet, with extensive teaching experience on the college level. Currently Madden works as an adjunct professor at Hampshire College in Amherst, Mass. and as a Development Associate at the Arsenal Center For The Arts in Watertown, Mass.

At the Center she is involved in grant writing, editing, proofing, to name just a few duties. The Center has four resident companies, and has its own programs such as “Text and Context” a series that matches a writer with a visual artist. Both participants talk about their “process” and there is an open discussion with the audience. Somerville Poet Lloyd Schwartz was a recent participant.

As for her work at Hampshire College Madden told the News that she finds the students consistently engaged with the craft of poetry. In Madden’s view her students are genuinely interested in poetry-- a godsend for any teacher.

Madden, who experienced the death of her father and other family members in short order said she need the distance of some eight years to truly write about it. She is now really “engaged” with her past in the context of her work. When she completes the manuscript she is working on: “Bring the Dead Girls Home,” she feels she will be able to “move on” in her writing.

Madden grew up near State College, Pennsylvania, a university town, but her parents were not professors. Her late father was a criminal investigator. When Madden started teaching at her alma mater she founded a visiting writers program for Department of Youth Service kids living in a residential treatment setting. She had her own college students teach the kids with laudable results. Since then Madden has gone on to teach in the Midwest, but came back to the Northeast to be near friends and family.

Madden also pitches in as a reader at the prestigious literary magazine “Ploughshares” based at Emerson College in Boston. As a reader of poetry manuscripts she looks for original vision, an element of surprise, humor, and emotional layers. Madden told the NEWS:

“If a poem makes me pause, and each line makes me want to go back and read the poem again, then it is a winner.”

Madden, who worked at the Sherman Café for a brief time when she first moved to Somerville, is happy in her new digs and glad to live in a place that is inspiring.

Doug Holder

Poesy Magazine Issue 36

POESY
issue 36
P.O.Box 7823
Santa Cruz, Ca. 95061
2008 ISSN# 1541-8162
www.poesy.org

Publisher: Brian Morrisey
Guest Editor: Erika King
Boston Editor: Doug Holder



Initially I flipped through Poesy Magazine issue 36,
and my first impressions were the juxtaposition of
photography and poetry; essay and poetry; different
type faces and poetry; the white space page integrated
with and opposite the black space page. This issue is
worth the year wait. The size, 7 ½ by 7 ½, the glossy
cover, the presentation, all lend to an intimate hold
in your hand, kind of magazine. The editors did a
fabulous job. Their respect for poetry and the poet is
evident in the formatting.

I started a list of the poems I liked best, then I
realized there were so many that it became impossible
to comment on all of them. It will have to suffice,
that I found some of the finest, grounded, simply
plain spoken poetry, not excluding what I feel is also
experimental phrasing, in a few of the poems;
“daylight snapped between black & white” or “I leave
again for Paris by way of my mother…” Then those poems
of few words, leap off the page and grab my mind, hold
me captive until I think it through; “I am the last
brut’ and the last poem in the magazine seems to be
the epitome of what this magazine stands for, or at
least part of what the magazine espouses..

“I maybe
used to have
favorite poets but they
only wrote about made up things, didn’t
have even a portion of a trashed life…”

Poesy is one of many small magazines, small presses,
that gives the public a sampling of what some poets
are trying to capture about their life and landscape,
without having to confound, us the reader.

Brian Morrisey and Erika King’s interview with the
veiled anonymity of the GPP is interesting but I don’t
agree with a lot of what the responses to the
questions were. I do agree with, “we’ve never said we
we’re, “revolutionary”…we just publish poems and get
them to as many people as possible.” that premise is
what the small press does, get the word or poem out
there and Poesy does it well.

The photography is in itself poetic portraits
portrayed in an insightful manner. Bravo to Poesy and
to all the hard working small presses. Without them
most of the poets I know would not be in print. most
of them would be lurking in a corner coffee shop
waiting for an opportunity to publish.

Irene Koronas
Poetry Editor
Wilderness House Literary Review
reviewer: Ibbetson Stree Press

Itsy Bitsy Yoga for Toddlers and Preschoolers by Helen Garabedian

Itsy Bitsy Yoga for Toddlers and Preschoolers
Helen Garabedian
Da Capo Press
A Member of the Perseus Book Group
$16.95
ISBN: 973-1-60094-008-8


I think Itsy Bitsy Yoga written in clear prose would be a delightful read for parents and caregivers. In addition to the benefits yoga brings, Ms. Garabedian states that Itsy Bitsy Yoga can tame tantrums, improve digestion, cultivate self-expression, promote fine motor development, improve realization and bring about a healthy lifesstyle. How welcoming is this! The book gives explicit how to directions and is organized around ten playful yoga routines. Each chapter has an
illustration of the posture, a section called Watch Me, Say N' Play, On the Go with Helen and Yogi Wogi Says. For example in Chapter #4, Wake n' Stretch Yoga the poses are called: Table, Cat, Cow, Twisting Cow, Child , Down Dog and Lunge ; the benefits include improved breathing,coordination,and balance
and seems like lots of fun.

The book is abundant with suggestions, songs and age-appropriate information. Ms Garabedian understands how to motivate children. I enjoyed most
the strengthening of the bond between parent and child that happens when engaging in these postures and play. The author tells how to relate to children
through singing, reading together, going on ourdoor walks and other sweet interactions. The practice is child-centered, she emphasizes; it begins where
the child is and helps to build self-confidence and self-esteem . Throughout there are praises and encourgement for the child: a nod, a smile, a high five, a pat on the back, thumbs up. What child wouldn't benefit from the routines in this book. I wish I had learned Itsy Bitsy Yoga when I was five.


Barbara Thomas

"My Fingernails" by Christopher Fritton

'My Fingernails
Are Fresnel Lenses'
Christopher Fritton
2008 ISBN 978-1-934513-06-4

Sunnyoutside
David Michael McNamara, Publisher
P.O.B. 911 Buffalo, New York, 14207
www.sunnyoutside.com

This small square, four inch by four inch, handmade,
or at least partially handmade, hand sewn, with great
attention given to the arrangement of verse done by
letterpress and fine papers contribute to a sense of
value. the book, ‘My Fingernails Are Fresnal Lenses’
becomes a gift, giving us, the general public, a
chance to untie the wrapping. the verse presented in
such a way, that there is an anticipation; you will
be pleased with the poem.

Having worked many years in print shops and paper
store, I appreciate the care given to how the poet
wanted to present his chapbook. There is a marriage of
earlier printing techniques. The red cover symbol
denotes the red lettering of an Celtic illuminated
script or medieval decorative design. The cover paper
is also reminiscent of a paper used and still made for
eighteen century multi-signature books, a laid paper,
which means you can detect a line impressed within the
paper. The letterpress is still in use today, but
mainly, for very special use or occasions. When you
run your fingers over the surface of letterpress you
can feel the indentation. This all lends to the
subject matter of the one poem, joining scientific
investigation with memory and more.

“…the light I make is chemiluminescent. The
chemicals are bodies. Light has no body, but
chemicals can be measured. They have detected light…”

Despite the relationship of chemicals and body, the
poem, for me, is about love, memory of love, human
love explored to it’s minute details. Love can be
explained anyway a poet chooses. Love still shines
through, whether because of the function of the brain,
or because we are emotional creatures, and that, being
emotional, is also connected to the brain; I refer to
the individual choices we make to love or not to love.
Christopher Fritton gives us a kiss; he gives us all
the thoughts perceived by him, behind a long kiss, an
intimate kiss. He whispers in our ear as only a lover
can. We are privy to something special. We alone, are
the only ones to ever be loved in this new way,
everlasting, evermore, that has ever been, that will
ever be.

…”I hold my hand next to your head
and my fingernails near your ear so you can hear…”

Perhaps the poet did not mean what I insist on seeing
in this poem. Light is more than material or light is
not material, or light emanates from the material,
whatever scientists discover, or have discovered, this
poem shines, on; what I call a love poem.

Irene Koronas
Poetry Editor, Wilderness House Literary Review
Reviewer, Ibbetson Street Press

Hugh Fox's "Way, Way Off the Road"reviewed in Axe Factory 22

( Axe Factory PO BOX 40691 Philadelphia, PA 19107) Joesph Farley, editor

Hugh Fox’s memoir “Way, Way Off The Road: The Memoirs of the Invisible Man.” (Ibbetson 2006) Has been reviewed by the Axe Factory (22) Joseph Farley the editor writes:

“Part Autobiography, part commentary on the writers of his generation, Fox’s book is a wild ride. The transitions are not always smooth, the design quirky, but in the end it is a fascinating journey. My only regret was that “Way, Way Off The Road” was not longer.

A lot of space is devoted to Fox’s relationship with Harry Smith, editor and publisher of THE SMITH. This is fine, but there are so many other characters in Fox’s life that are introduced and passed over quickly, including members of his amorphous family. I wanted to know more about them.

I strongly recommend taking this book home with you and giving it a good read. I just wish it were 500 pages instead of 275.

To purchase send:

$18 made out to Ibbetson Street Press 25 School St. Somerville, Mass. 02143

DAVIS SQUARE POET ED MEEK: SOMERVILLE MAKES YOU WANT TO WRITE.

(Ed Meek center)





DAVIS SQUARE POET ED MEEK: SOMERVILLE MAKES YOU WANT TO WRITE.

Poet Ed Meek is a new transplant to Davis Square, Somerville, and damn glad of it. Meek, an accomplished writer in both the fiction and non-fiction genre, moved from the staid and tony suburbs of Belmont, Mass. to the hotbed of cultural activity: Somerville, Mass. Belmont, once labeled the “most boring” town in the state by The Boston Globe, was a bit rarefied for the writer in the man. Meek, the author of a new poetry collection “What We Love” (First World Publishing) said of Davis Square and Somerville: “Somerville is a great community. It makes you feel like writing.”

Like many writers Meek has held a host of jobs, mostly in teaching. In the 70’s Meek had a job as a wine steward at Locke Ober in Boston, a bastion of the cold roast Brahmin crowd. Meek told me he has a working knowledge of fine wines, but he said: “I have tastes that I can longer afford.”

Meek, who was born in Quincy, Mass. holds two Master Degrees, one in Creative Writing from the University of Montana, and the other in English Composition from U/Mass Boston. His work has appeared in such journals as the Paris Review, Bellevue Literary Review, Yankee, and Ibbetson Street, to name a few.

Meek has taught at Curry College in Milton, Mass, as well as overseas in Tehran, Iran. Meek now hangs his hat at Austin Prep in Reading, Mass. He likes the steadiness of teaching on the secondary level. The colleges he has taught at offered temporary one-year contracts, adjunct position, and the uncertainty wore on Meek. He also feels teaching high school has its advantages: “In high schools you can build relationships with students at an age when they have completely new ways of looking at things.”

Meek’s poems in “What We Love” are on the surface deceptively simple, but underneath are layers of meaning. Case-in-point: in Meek’s poem: “Divorce” he uses the conceit of divorcing the tired image of oneself, at say fifty years old.

“Move to a new city. Leave behind/ that fat lazy fool who returns your hopeful gaze/ in cruel mirrors every morning/ as you brush your caffeine-stained teeth/…This is the year to take a train into tomorrow/ one-way ticket in hand/ where no one knows your name/ and you can be someone else…”

Meek said as he grows older his writing” Just keeps getting better.” As a Baby Boomer, he is more aware of his limitations now as a writer and a man.. He feels at this point in his life he has a better grasp of what he wants.

About his own writing process Meek said that he does a great deal of revising. After he writes a poem he has to sit with it for two weeks or so to see if it works.

Meek said his major poetic mentor was Richard Hugo at the University of Montana. Meek said Hugo was a master of writing about place, with attention to concrete details, and he had a great ear. Meek smiled: “ He combines sound and metaphor, something I appreciate.” Meek also admires Robert Frost and John Ashbury who he heard read recently in Concord, Mass.

Meek said that we all have an aesthetic impulse that needs expression. “It is part of who we are,” he opined. Meek is a man who writes for the sake of writing not publishing. Although he is widely published he assured me that he would still be writing if nothing was published. He smiled: “Hey, not everything I write today is published, but I am still going at it!”

--Doug Holder

REVIEWS FROM CHARLES RIES

REVIEWS FROM CHARLES RIES



Charles Ries is one of the most prolific and insightful reviewers in the small press today. I had the pleasure to meet him in New York City this winter. He sent me a batch of his latest...











Greetings –



I wanted to share the following reviews with you now that they’ve appeared here and there. Forgive me for sending these along in this master-blaster-manner, but they don’t call it the “small” press for nothing. And we must get good work into the hands and heart as best we can.



The follow writers, publishers are covered in the review sequence that follows: Curt Johnson, Cervena Barva Press (Gloria Mindock, Editor), Ellaraine Lockie, Ralph Murre and Peter Schwartz. These reviews run between 250 and 1,000 words. They have appeared in print in the US, but I wanted to get them out to a wider audience. Enjoy them and send them around if you wish. If you want to run any of them just credit the first appearance as noted.



Thanks,



Charles P. Ries

Milwaukee, WI



Find Web Home of Charles P. Ries at: http://www.literati.net/Ries



_______________________________________________________________



SALUD

Selected Writings

By Curt Johnson

216 Pages

Price: $15.00



Cross & Roads Press

P.O. Box 33

Ellison Bay, WI 54210

www.bleidoorcountytimes.com



ISBN: 0-889460-16-8



Review/Interview By: Charles P. Ries





This Review First Appeared In: Free Verse



SALUD is a homage to Curt Johnson by his dear friend and small press institution, Norb Blei. This is the 27th publication from Blei’s, Cross + Roads Press. Blei says, “When a writer reaches the point of Selected Works in his life, a definite benchmark has been achieved. You stand by your words. What you’ve penned you are. This could not be more true then in the life and work of Curt Johnson, short story artist, novelist, essayist, critic, and one of the best yet, least celebrated writers and publisher (december magazine and december press) coming out of the heartland.”



Through SALUD, Blei gives us a sampling of Johnson’s work: novel excerpts, essays, articles, and memoirs. The challenge here is condensing the works of a writer who wrote so broadly and in so many forms. I often felt like I was getting only the first course – a taste. But this is want Blei intended to do; tempt us with Johnson’s work and encourage us to seek it out.



This book is both a literary experience and a history of the small independent press. Johnson who is now in his 80’s, was editor of the highly regarded december magazine in the early 60s. He was one of the first to publish the works of Raymond Carver, Joyce Carol Oates, Bukowski, and Ted Kooser, to name only a few who have gone onto popular acclaim. But Johnson also published the work of many writers who never hit it big, or at all. Johnson and Blei are two of the patron saints of the small press. They have been in it and doing it for over 50 years. They do it as much to give new writers a place to shine, a chance to be heard, as much as for any glory they may receive.



I found the interview between Johnson and Blei that concludes SALUD a delight - a history lesson and look inside the head of two small press pioneers. Blei says in the interview, “Curt have you, one of the Granddaddies of independent publishers in America, ever been invited to read your work and/or discuss the role of the independent presses in academia? Northwestern University? The University of Illinois (Johnson has lived his life in Chicago). And Johnson replies, “I don’t think the academy and its creative writing courses are of much use to the real writer. And I don’t think the safe haven the academy provides established writers does their own writing much good either.”



For those of us active in the independent small press this book is a must read. How can we know that we are innovating if we don’t know what has come before us? But even more, SALUD is a morality tale that has been told again and again by yet another talented, prolific writer sitting at linoleum kitchen table at 11:00 a.m., having a coffee and a shot of whiskey with a fellow writer and friend reflecting on the old days, lamenting the fact he never quite hit it big, but not willing to change one thing about his journey, the books he wrote, the people he met, or the writers he helped along the way.



________________________________________________________________





ČERVENA BARVA PRESS

Gloria Mindock, Editor

P.O. Box 440357

W. Somerville, MA 02144-3222

www.cervenabarvapress.com



By: Charles P. Ries







This Review First Appeared In: PRESA



What do you suppose is in the water in Somerville? Small press publishers are popping up all over the place: Ibbetson Street Press, sunny outside press and now, Červená Barva Press. Maybe we should all drink some of that Somerville prose juice as it appears to be poetry fortified.



Gloria Mindock founded Červená Barva Press in April 2005, since that time she has published and designed ten chapbooks, three e-books, and twenty-one poetry postcards. Forthcoming in 2007 are four more chapbooks, four full-length poetry books, as well as two plays and fourteen poetry postcards by fourteen poets using paintings by Nancy Mitchell. Oh, and she also publishes a monthly electronic newsletter which lists readings from all over the world as well as interviews with authors. I asked Gloria how it all began, “I started this press because of my passion for poetry. I edited the Boston Literary Review (BluR) for 10 years, and I read high-quality submissions during that period. Since the magazine ceased circulation, I have spent many years freelance writing, but see a need for a new publishing forum. This led me to take it a step further and expand into publishing. I wanted to provide another outlet for writers who take risks, have a strong voice, and are unique. Eventually I will publish more writing from different countries, particularly authors from Eastern Europe. There are so many wonderful writers in this world and I want to give them more exposure.” Mindock’s fascination with Eastern Europe, and especially Prague, prompted her to name her press Červená Barva which means the “red color” in Czech.



As the following short poetry reviews will note, Mindock has a wide range of tastes and inclinations when it comes to the writers she chooses to publish:



The Whole Enchilada

By: Ed Miller

Wonderful! If this is Miller’s first chap book – I want to put in an advance order on the next ten. I loved “Dear Poet” and “Extraterrestrials Use Holographic Imagery Of Naked Females”. How glorious to read a wry sense of humor who is capable of creating such endless possibilities.



God Of The Jellyfish

By: Lucille Lang Day

We need more poets with M.A.’s in zoology and Ph.D.’s in science and math education, or we will never discover the metaphoric limits of the ocean, stars and universe. Oh, and Lucille Lang Day also has a M.A. in English and M.F.A. in creative writing. She will never run out of material given the galaxies she has chosen to examine. She does a wonderful job making this collision of science, the cosmic, and the day-to-day work.



Of All The Meals I Had Before:

Poems About Food and Eating

By: Doug Holder

This collection of poetry may well elevate food above sex as one of life’s two great pleasures. Holder writes in the spare precise style he is known for. No extras – all meat and potatoes. These are highly descriptive, ambient poems of place and person. I was surprised at how well Holder pulled this collection off.



Gothic Calligraphy

By: Flavia Cosma

Mindock says her favorite writers come from Eastern Europe. As I read this delicious and somber Romanian born Canadian poet, it is easy to see why. Cosma uses nature as a backdrop and foundation for her poetry. She is a Richard Wilber Poetry in Translation winner for her book of poetry 47 POEMS. One has to wonder if being born speaking Slavic gives a poet the upper hand when painting silk on water.



Bilingual Poems

By: Richard Kostelanetz

I had to work hard to get through Kostelanetz’s work – esoteric word art more than poetry. Begging the question, where does poetry end and visual art begin? Scrabble meets Einstein. Bilingual Poems is on one level a series of two dimensional Mandalas, and on another, a series of Gideon knots. Kostelanetz says that his goal is “to be the most inventive poet ever in American Literature.” He just might do it, but will people read it?



W Is For War

By: George Held

It is hard to create metaphor or image equal to combat. War is horror – how can words ever come close to mirroring moments of such suffering and fear? I give George Held credit for trying and doing such a good job at it. His poem, “From Nam to Armageddon” is a great piece of work. One of the most complete war poems I have ever read.



Fishing In Green Waters

By: Judy Ray

These are effortless poems that spin between here and now using both conversational and lyrical language. Judy Ray lavishes description around the subjects of her observations that are often common in their nature, but elevates their substance with her gentle compassion. Her poems, “Anonymous Valentines” and “Sometimes” are wonderful works. About this Fishing In Green Waters, Judy Ray says, “This new collection is more elusive in theme, and maybe more mysterious for that reason. Several of the poems refer to those sparks of excitement which come from recognition of some moment of transient beauty, or a small gesture which speaks for a historic moment.” This is work by a very fine, skilled, steady hand



I asked Mindock about her background and influences and she said, “My mother always painted, and poetry was always around me. I always had that artistic background. My dad taught 7th and 8th grade English. There are a lot of artists in my family. My sister is a musicologist. My parents are my biggest influence.”



Doug Holder of Ibbetson Street says this about Mindock, “Gloria has long experience in the poetry biz. We call each other holy fools because we are passionate about our work, and don't make a red cent, like most of the holy fools in the small press. She puts out a quality product and is a joy to deal with!” Doug is right, and we poets are lucky to have holy fools who work for nothing, but the joy it brings them.



____________________________________________________________________





BLUE RIBBONS

At the County Fair

By: Ellaraine Lockie

63 Pages / 34 Poems

Price: $10.00



PWJ Publishing

P.O. Box 238

Tehama, CA 96090

www.wellinghamjones.com



ISBN: 0-939221-45-4



Review/Interview By: Charles P. Ries





This Review First Appeared In: Chiron Review



Ellaraine Lockie once again walks the tight rope between poetry that is accessible and ethereal - poetry that is at once plain spoken and musical. The title for her most recent collection of poetry is deceptively colloquial, Blue Ribbons at the County Fair, but her poems travel a varied world taking us far beyond the confines of the county fair. She uses a variety of technique and style to take us with her. As in her past work, she tiptoes along the high-wire that can separate the work of the academically trained and the self-taught writers.



In her poem, “Lost Legacy,” we find her wonderful ability to use alliteration with good effect. Moving us gently forward as she reflects on her beloved Montana, “Houses a hundred years old / with Alzheimer’s / Abandoned in isolation wards / on western prairies // Where homesteads were settled / on small town sanity brinks / Mine long ago lost / to profit margins / on minimal Montana farm // Hospice where I come to heal / from city assaults / My heart heavier / than the hard timber / turned driftwood soft.”



Lockie has received first place prizes for each poem in this collection, and as Lockie explains in her essay at the conclusion of the book, “And yes, some received blue ribbons at county fairs.” She goes on to say, “When I began writing poetry, naturally I thrilled to the idea of poetry contests. Not only are they fun and suspenseful, but placing in them gives credibility to cover-letters, pays money prizes or other honorariums and sometimes provides public reading opportunities.” So in a sense Blue Ribbons at the County Fair is sort of an Ellaraine Lockie Greatest Hits Collection. I especially enjoyed her poems focusing on the topic of modern romance – of one sort or another, such as in “The Other Woman”: “She shows signs of jealousy / That slight smart of suspicion / Of course she would know / How a woman / can move in on a man / Hang her underwear / over his philandering lines / Being a practiced poacher herself / An artist in sculpting seduction”. And again in, “Silk Dreams”: “I told you ahead of time / this affair / if it happened / wouldn’t be casual / But here it is a few hours old / Already wearing sneakers / and a wrinkled tee shirt / You say you will pass my way / when time permits / I say the way has potholes / that require attention / Mapped maintenance.” “Defying Gravity” also covers this eternal landscape with exceptional skill.



Lockie told me about her jump into poetry, “I previously had written in other genres (and still do)--nonfiction, magazine articles and children’s picture books. Nine years ago I had not read a poem since high school, except for the occasional one I came across in children’s literature. I thought I hated poetry; I thought it had to rhyme. Then one day an old friend sent me some of his poems and wanted my opinion. I liked them, but they didn’t rhyme. So I called my children’s writing mentors for advice. When they told me about free verse, I became obsessed with writing it and with getting it published. This happened at a tough time in my life, and poetry became my salvation. I just jumped in and started writing like crazy, unaware of what other poets were writing. I entered the poems in contests before submitting to editors, knowing that I needed something in cover letters to entice editors into reading my work carefully.” If she needed verification that she was on the right track, she certainly got it.

What I enjoyed most about this collection is Lockie’s ability to use language beautifully and yet have it remain accessible. I understood her metaphors; I could relate to her stories and pictures. And while her writing was accessible, it remained well developed and carefully composed. There are only a few writers in the independent small press who manage to walk this line and not fall in to the pit of abstraction (Michael Kriesel and Gloria Mindock are certainly two who come to my mind). One wonders if as poets grow and extend themselves that they must inevitably drift further away from the common and push the art form, play with structure and elevate their style of their writing? But it was a joy for me to settle into Lockie’s recent collection and find no extraneous obstacles to my entering her world or her meaning. As Lockie has grown as a poet she has become more elegant about communicating common meaning.



_______________________________________________________



MY NOVENA

By: Peter Schwartz

T.K. LLC

P.O. Box 767

Augusta, ME 04332

Price: $4.50 / 19 pages / 1 Poem

Review By: Charles P. Ries





Peter Schwartz walks the line between ethereal image and the everyday about as well as any poet writing in the small press. His new book, “My Novena” is a single poem that covers nine days in nineteen pages. The word novena is from the Latin word novem meaning nine. It is a process of hopeful mourning, of yearning and prayer which if conducted over nine consecutive days promises special graces. Schwartz embarks on his reflection and on day one notes that, “I swim without / meaning as my memory / tunes itself to the tides / becoming the net / it always was”. And on day five: he comes into his own with the realization “to domesticate the distance / to acquaint flyspecks / with the celestial / because intimacy’s / its own habitat / a pleasant anarchy / seldom discussed”. Schwartz’s considerable talent at colliding the eloquent and common greatly elevated my experience with his reflections. “My Novena” no longer became just his prayer, but mine as well when on day four he notes, “I waver / from being somebody to nobody /so many time within the space / of a single hour that I really am / that person in between / the intermediate / the delegate / the agent and broker / to a condition / that can perhaps / be best summed up / as heartbroken”. This is a very talented writer.



________________________________________________________________





CRUDE RED BOAT

By: Ralph Murre

Cross+Roads Press

P.O. Box 33

Ellison Bay, WI 54210

Price: $10.00 / 72 pages / 50 Poems

ISBN 1-889460-18-4

Review By: Charles P. Ries





First Appeared in: Free Verse



It always surprises me when I read a new book of poetry by a writer I've read and enjoyed in various journals and discover it is their first book. “How could this be?” I wonder when the writer has such talent. “Crude Red Boat” by Ralph Murre is published by the venerated Norb Blei’s Cross + Roads Press. It is a wonderful coming out party for a writer who began to write poetry just a few years ago. Murre uses plain spoken language in this collection of fifty-three poems, and the subjects of his musings are also common as noted by a few of the titles from this collection, “Rock”, “My Room”, “Gust”, and “Neighbor”. These poems are so immediate they made me feel like I was sitting across the table from Ralph having coffee. Indeed, he is the coffee counter philosopher in “A Good Reed”: “we are those of us who survive / slender reed / bending with each passing wave / changing with the tide yet unchanged / as the ocean is unchanged / by each reed on it shore”. And again, in “Running Things”: “Another year / Another chance to get it right / To do the things I shoulda done / Tear down that fence I built / Quite the party / Let running things run”. These poems are fresh and honest - a wonderful first book of poetry.

_________________________________________________________







Charles P. Ries lives in Milwaukee, Wisconsin. His narrative poems, short stories, interviews and poetry reviews have appeared in over two hundred print and electronic publications. He has received four Pushcart Prize nominations for his writing. He is the author of THE FATHERS WE FIND, a novel based on memory and five books of poetry. He is the poetry editor for Word Riot (www.wordriot.org), Pass Port Journal (www.passportjournal.org) and ESC! (www.escmagazine.com). He is on the board of the Woodland Pattern Bookstore (www.woodlandpattern.org). He is a founding member of the Lake Shore Surf Club, the oldest fresh water surfing club on the Great Lakes (http://www.visitsheboygan.com/dairyland/). You may find additional samples of his work by going to: http://www.literati.net/Ries/

Readers and schedule of Boston National Poetry Festival April 12-Boston Public Library-Copley Square

BOSTON NATIONAL POETRY MONTH FESTIVAL
POETS’ Reading Schedule ROOM 5-6
Rabb Lecture Hall
APRIL 12, 2008

OPEN MIKE – Room 4
10:00 Boston Latin High School- 1:30 to 4:00 P.M.
Rhea Kroutil McKendry
10:10 Boston Latin High School
Tu Phan
10:20 Boston Arts Academy
Jocelyn Morris
10:30 Boston Arts Academy
Yamira Serret
10:40 Boston Arts Academy
Taoe Clarke
10:50 Walnut Hill School for the Arts
Gabriella Fee

11:00 Sam Cornish
11:10 Suzanne E. Berger 11:10 Lisa Beatman
11:20 Regie O. Gibson 11:20 Cynthia Brackett -Vincent
11:30 Joanna Nealon 11:30 Sandra Storey
11:40 Danielle Legros-Georges 11:40 Marc Goldfinger
11:50 Len Krisak 11:50 Andy Levesque
12:00 Susan Donnelly 12:00 Ron Goba
12:10 Charles Coe 12:10 Carol Weston
12:20 Dan Tobin 12:20 Walter Howard
12:30 Cathy Salmons 12:30 Elizabeth McKim
12:40 Kaji Aso Studio 12:40 Elizabeth Leonard
Kate Finnegan / Michael Bialis 12:50 Marc Widershien
12:50 CD Collins 1:00 Ifeanyi Menkiti
1:00 Dan Sklar 1:10 Elizabeth Doran
1:10 Jeffrey Harrison 1:20 Robert K. Johnson
1:20 Tino Villenueva 1:30 Tim Gager
1:30 Jan Schreiber 1:40 Frannie Lindsay
1:40Diana DerHovanessian 1:50 Joseph DeRoche
1:50 Lloyd Schwartz 2:00 Victor Howes
2:00 Lainie Senechal 2:10 Richard Hoffman
2:10 Harris Gardner 2:20 Robert J. Clawson
2:20 Doug Holder 2:30 Anne Elizabeth Tom
2:30 Barbara Helfgott-Hyett 2:40 Irene Koronas
2:40 Rhina P. Espaillat 2:50 Frank Blessington
2:50 Richard Wollman 3:00 Lo Galluccio
3:00 Stuart Peterfreund
3:10 Ellen Steinbaum
3:20 Diana Saenz
3:30 Richard Moore
3:40 Fred Marchant
3:50 Valerie Lawson
4:00 Ryk McIntyre



Harris Gardner

PRESA ( Spring 2008) Reviewed by Irene Koronas

Presa :S: Press

"I do not put down the academy but have

assumed its function in my own person..."

-Philip Whalen





PRESA
Number 7, Spring 2008
Featured Poet: Doug Holder
Lest We Forget: Etheridge Knight
Toward a new eclecticism: Eric Greinke
$8.50

This issue of Presa is chalk full of good poets and
poems. I especially enjoyed the essay by Eric Greinke
and reading about the poet Etheridge Knight. I will be
reading this issue over the next few weeks, but my
focus is, presently, on Doug Holder.

I am biased. Doug Holder gets my immediate, full
attention, because of his active presence in the local
communities around the Boston area, he is well
established as a poetry activist and without his
support and validation as a writer/poet I would not be
able to write this review. It is Doug Holder who
opened a door for me many years ago. Many poets owe
him a thank you. I love Doug Holder and he can do no
wrong, (that’s a bit of an exaggeration. but you get
my drift.)

The five poems printed in this edition of Presa #7,
I’ve heard Doug read except for, “with my shirt off.”
In that particular poem he presents the reader with a
scant peek at being in a vulnerable position, love.
His love, his honesty, packed into a short verse, "and
my love, will you love the rest?” In the words, “the
rest” leads me on a journey and will set the tone for
the rest of his poetry. If we take the words at face
value it is still powerful writing, but if we allow
ourselves to muse on that simple phrase, “the rest” I
have to ask what is ’the rest.’ I will not answer here
because it doesn’t seem appropriate to the review,
except to say, ’the rest’ is apropos to my situation.
In his poem “looking at a lone woman at a bar,” Doug
places me in front of a photograph, in front of a
person sitting alone, a person from a painting by
Toulouse Lautrec, or an Edward Hopper. Holder captures
the same isolation, “they are always impenetrable.”
From our modern or contemporary societies or systems,
Doug offers us the opportunity to feel what it is like
to wait in line, have a casual glance with out a
meeting, a consummation or any action. We could say it
is because of the glass protecting the photograph. The
poem’s expanse, “no-my gaze will not be met.” a simple
word phrasing, ’met’ becomes for me, an implication,
each reader will find for themselves. the phrasing is
poignant, a realization, the reality of being the
viewer, a passive participant, similar to Lautrec and
Hopper, who show us in their work, the barren human
landscape, and Dianne Arbus, the queen of outsider
depictions. Holder is a master of the simple word
play.

The poems in this edition of Presa, speak in laud soft
voices. Holder’s voice is often times, subtle,
humorous, astute, and always familiar. So familiar, we
may over look the profound nature of the simple
phrasing, a figure sitting in front of us, the people
who visit joke shops, or the people who collect our
money from a small enclosed booth, or the extinct
booth in the middle of an under pass. Doug Holder
sees. He offers us a chance to invite that same
difference into our own perspective. His poems present
the imperfections perfectly present:

The Perfect Lawn

far from boston
I will neuter it.
I will mow
that plot
before the
plot thickens.

cut all the intrusive
outside of the box
gay blades.

in my narrow mind
I picture a broad lawn
a perfect rectangle
where I draw
the line.

no random weed
will drop
mix
will be felt
on my
flawless
green pelt.

Doug Holder can never be overlooked. We all know, or
at least we will all know his work is as great as any
of those great paintings hanging in the ‘Met.’ I dare
not compare his work to significant, ‘other’ poets
such as…. you know, some of those u.s. of a. poet
laureates. In my book he is the Mother Teresa of the
small press. Oh God, Doug will not enjoy that
reference, I’ll change it.
He’s the wailing wall for unknown poets. nah. He won’t
like that either. okay. Doug Holder can reach tall
buildings in a single bound.

He can flip a coin phrase faster than a speeding
bullet. He is always the first one to show-up for a
meeting. He always welcomes new poets and writes. He
always passes out flyers and the local newspapers,
with poetry event schedules. He always has a poem in
his small brown notebook in his back pocket

Irene Koronas
Poetry Editor
Wilderness House Literary Review
www.whlreview.com

92 Rapple Drive by Lyn Lifshin

92 Rapple Drive
Lyn Lifshin
Coatlism Press 2008
15.95 ISBN 13: 978-0-9802073-1-6
ISBN 10: 0-9802073-1-2
http://www.coatlism.blogspot.com

the font used for titling the poems is distraction;
too emphatic for this reader, especially, in the
morning before my coffee kools. I proceed anyway to
the poems which run into each other or so it seems,
“imagined I couldn’t go on without her.” “here, with
the cat on my feet…” “was it the black starless
nights,.” Lyn Lifshin’s 92 Rapple poems are rooted,
they grow from rich soil fed and turned regularly.
what surprises me is the poems are not about trees or
those flowery blouses dotted with pink and lilac.
instead Lifshin plants memory and the moment opens; we
meet the unabashed poems’ presence, in the presence of
their unfolded. “but I was fire, i was adrenalin,
flame. I wanted the white wind…” and as the reader
thumbs thru, turns pages, we harvest her white, we
breath in and exhale slowly in front of, before her
verse, before we are allowed entrance, “the key
gulped by crows,” the reader needs to retrieve, settle
into, an often “cranky.” Lifshin lets us walk thru
concrete passage ways, the subtle play between
couplets. those who have read her work before, you’ll
find the same genuine voice, that pause encounter,
"remember stories of panthers,” pawed rows and rows,
spooning words as ordinary, the extrodinary lift, the
fresh break or corner of shade.

I don’t want to talk
of the other I passed
in the hall, you know
that story tho it was
not quite that, was
tea in bed and then I
wrote in the kitchen.
what was new
would be stained.
what wasn’t, lost
its sheen. days a
scrim I saw only
what I made up thru,
the moon pink and
if there was a pond,
a deep rose thru the
sand that let go of
everything too

Irene Koronas
Ibbetson Street Press (reviewer)
Poetry Editor
Wilderness House Litery Review
www.whlreview.com

This is where you go when you are gone. Tim Gager

This is where you go when you are gone. Tim Gager ( Cervena Barva Press POBOX 440357 West Somerville, Mass. 02144) $7. http://www.cervenabarvapress.com

Tim Gager’s poems are poems of the regular guy, and in his own way Gager’s work is as American as apple pie. He is a man who is confused by and craves women, retains a childlike enthusiasm for Baseball into his middle age , downs the burger and brews, and pines for something that always seems just out of his reach. There is nothing rarefied about the poet’s work; his poetry speaks as plainly as a stick or bone.

In the poem “2A.M.” Gager writes evocatively about the concessions of carnality:

“ On me
you push down
the weight on each bent leg,
cures my evils…
no more bile
to hold down
no more skeletons
to settle for
when it’s dark…”

And Gager really hits his stride with “ stuck, with my old school ways.” I must admit in this age of the wireless I remain a Luddite , and view the pay phone, and the phone booth with a certain romantic reverence. Gager infuses this one pedestrian booth simmering in the Arizona heat with a plume of sad/sweet nostalgia and longing:

“ got green in my pocket
not plastic—nor have I
ever brought a cell
to make his call like this
with poles and wires
endless from where I stand
to you

i’ve driven miles in dust
to find this pay phone
to whisper in your ear
i love you baby
and how are the kids

on the side of the road,
my loneliness
is this booth where
i hear you smile
and I picture
the way your hips thrust
forward, every time you laugh…
this surge of you
bursts, hits me
like the heat in Arizona
at ten
AM.”

This is another fine collection from Cervena Barva. And hats off to the front cover artist Andrea Libertini.

Presa Number 7 Spring 2008

PRESA Number 7 Spring 2008 (Presa S Press POBOX 792 Rockford, MI 49341) $8.50 presapress@aol.com http://www.presapress.com


Well, I have, and my minions of crack reviewers have reviewed many books that have come through the portals of Eric Greinke’s PRESA PRESS. I foreworn you I was the featured poet in this issue so I am deliriously biased. But I do have to say PRESA magazine is in the best tradition of small press journals. Eric Greinke has a thoughtful essay titled “ Toward A New Eclecticism” where he examines the gaping divide between the academy poets, and the small and independent presses. Greinke, although a dyed-in-the-wool small press doyen, pleads his case for more tolerance between the groups for other poetic forms. He tries to bring down “purists” of both camps. Greinke writes:

“The main problem we face in American poetry is narrow-minded intolerance of various forms taken by poetry itself. The obvious division along social class lines is a symptom of elitism and mutual intolerance, rather than being based in legitimate, fundamental, aesthetic differences.”

There is an extensive review section of chapbooks. Greinke recognizes that chaps are the currency of the small press: “ Literature owes a great deal to the chapbook. Historically, the first bound books were single signature chapbooks. They are nearly indestructible. They are non-commercial. Every poet first sees his work collected in a chapbook. They are the perfect medium for poetry, the quintessential “slim volume.” But it can be difficult to get them reviewed.” Well Presa addresses this problem with reviews of chaps by Harris Gardner, Mary Bonina, Ellaraine Lockie, Gerald Locklin, Michael Graves and others…

Also in this edition is an essay on Etheridge Knight by Ronnie M. Lane, as well as poetry by small press notables as Lyn Lifshin, Robert K. Johnson, Alan Catlin, Michael Estabrook,, Hugh Fox, Donald Lev, John Amen and others.

Highly Recommended.

KEEN
Philip Ramp
Shoestring Press 2008
$15.00 ISBN 978 1 904886 66 3


Philip Ramp's poems slip in and out of my thoughts
like water lapping on shore, not the coastal wave's
hard crash, but the gentle lapping of a calm sea
against a boat or a floating tree trunk. each time I
read one of Ramp's poems I am able to see right to
the bottom of his ocean, the fish darting, riding the
ebb and flow, "a shadow ran like a path." Ramp's ideas
are solitary in nature, but never random. he chooses
his words, phrases, metaphors, he ponders each line,
"so it was nature, not me, erased the intrusive
hills." the actuality of his reality becomes our
vision of his visit with his natural surroundings, he
places us before the sunset, "its not us death wants
but our memories, what we think we're sneaking out."
the poems become a landscape of thought. Ramp brings
us a sense of wonder, as if for the first time after a
long time, "I saw the stars as if caught unaware,
exposed, as big and luscious as fresh fruit. how could
it be I'd never seen that sky before." his vast space
contained within a depiction of trees, birds, breeze,
and, "the plastic flowers drooping."

Fall

of all the seasons
this is the one
gets nearest to complete,
the day scrubbed down
to its fundamental browns
put in a box
smooth to the eyes
rough to the touch
spilling over with leaves.
the wind rattles the last
useful music from the trees
shakes the mist
from the grass
gives the sky
a lick and a promise
and tells the birds; scat.
cleaned of their abstract shadows
things are so outward
they're as impervious as a hum.
all the distance
this one space can hold.
then brown's removed.
the going is gone.
the box is empty
and there's nothing
on the ground.


Irene Koronas
Reveiwer Ibbetson Street Press
Poetry Editor
Wilderness House Literary Review

Anne Elizabeth Tom: A Bagel Bard is the New Head of the Cape Cod Writers Center

Anne Elizabeth Tom: Bagel Bard New Head of the Cape Cod Writers Center


Anne Elizabeth Tom, among other things, is a member of the “Bagel Bards,” a writers group that meets every Saturday at the Au Bon Pain in Davis Square, Somerville. Late in 2007 Tom was appointed the new executive director of the Cape Cod Writers Center. Anne who lives on the Cape with her husband Steve grew up in Boston but remembers her summers on the Cape with great affection. Tom got an MFA from Tufts University, worked as a writer/editor for the MITRE Corp., started a family, lived around the country, but wound up back on the Cape.

For several seasons she produced the Grange Hall Poetry Series, the Cape Cod Winter Poetry Series, and produced original plays of Cape Cod playwrights. She is no stranger to the small press, and has published in such literary journals as the Aurorean, Ibbetson Street, Poesy, Out of the Blue Writers Unite (anthology), and Bagel with the Bards ll. Tom also established Cape Cod Cultural Tours which specialized in custom excursions focused on local history, and architecture. I spoke with Tom on my Somerville Community Access TV show “ Poet to Poet: Writer to Writer.”


Doug Holder: Anne you have lived a number of places and traveled the world. Why have you chosen the Cape to hang your hat?

Anne Elizabeth Tom: The Cape got under my skin at a very young age. To me it is a nostalgic place. Once you go over the Sagamore Bridge it is all Cape Cod and you don’t have to leave it to get from town to town. Especially in the off-season.

D H: That divide--- does it cut you off from the Boston poetry community?

AT: Unfortunately I don’t get up to Boston as much I would like to. But I try to get together with Boston poets also.

DH: There have always been a lot of writers residing on the Cape from Norman Mailer, on…

AT: I know. It is just amazing. The poet May Oliver lived there. Marge Piercy, and the list goes on. We have a lot of great theatre too. We have a new theatre the: Wellfleet Harbor Actors Theatre. There is a tremendous amount of talent. So there is plenty to do. I could be out a few nights a week.

DH: Can you tell us a bit about the history of the Cape Cod Writers’ Center, and your mission statement, etc…

AT: The Cape Cod Writers Center is almost fifty years old. It was started by a small group of writers to support one another. And that’s really still the mission to support one another. We have an annual conference that really is the core work of the center. One of the ways we expanded our mission statement is to include more readers, and that includes poets. We also have a breakfast with the authors series at the Hyannis Golf Club. We have hosted such writers as Jan Shapiro, Shelia Connolly, Scott Withiam, and others. So many people come around from the Cape. It helps to have things happening on a regular basis.

We have an annual conference in August. It’s held in a wonderful retreat, overlooking, the Nantucket Sound. It’s right next to a charming, little Victorian town.

DH: You have published in such small press magazines and anthologies as: Poesy , Ibbetson Street, Out of the Blue Writers Unite, and Bagel Bards ll to name a few. What’s your view of the small press?

AT: I feel it is very important. It is important to publish. After I left my position as a museum director and moved to the Cape, I said I didn’t care if I ever published anything. I just wanted to write. But it didn’t take long before I wanted to share, and be taken seriously. It was the Aurorean and Ibbetson Street that published me for the first time. It was in the fall of 2002-I think. It was such an affirmation of my work. The small press brings poets together. I don’t think it is a good idea for poets just to write about by themselves, and never show their work. The small press is a wonderful way to meet other poets and get your work out there. Fred Marchant, one of our poets-in-residence at the Center, encouraged us to send our work to the small press.

DH: Who were your other poets-in-residence

AT: Afaa Michael Weaver, Wes McNair, to name a couple.

DH: What is the young writers workshop you offer about?

AT: We have a lot of summer people from other cities and other states that send their kids here. This year it’s going to be taught by David Surette. It is for talented writers between the ages of 12 to 16. It is held from Aug. 18 to Aug. 22 during our summer conference.

DH: You have done different types of writing. Why is poetry your favored genre?

AT: I’ve done business writing, and public relations writing. My favorite non-poetry writing is research and writing about history. I feel things very deeply, and I find poetry as the best way to express this.

for more information go to http://capecodwriterscenter.com

--Doug Holder

Barnes and Noble and The Small Press.

Barnes and Noble and The Small Press.

Ok. I can understand why Barnes and Noble can’t stock the many titles that are produced in the Small Press. But for crying out loud, when you have a well-known local poet, whose book has received good coverage in the local media, will be making appearances at local colleges, and reading around town, don’t you think you could be a bit more community minded? Barnes and Noble at Harvard University refused to grant any shelf space for Lisa Beatman’s book of poetry “Manufacturing America” a book of poetry about immigrant workers at the Ames Safety Envelope Factory in Somerville, Mass. They also refused to give her a reading at the store. Lisa is a graduate of the Kennedy School of Government at Harvard, and the publisher has a graduate degree from the University as well. And what’s funny this is the University’s bookstore! Most colleges I have dealt with have no problem doing this for their former students. It would be great if a poet who writes about the unsung workers in a local factory could read at a venue like this, along with the other authors who get recognition from the store. Thank god for indies like Porter Square Books, McIntyre and Moore, the Grolier---where would we be without them!

Doug Holder/Ibbetson Street Press


Here are the exchanges between Beatman and the store.


Nancy,

Thanks for your email. I do understand about market forces. However, your
decision to exclude considering small press publications, particularly in
the case of a Harvard alumna, is an unfortunate one. It perpetuates the
public perception that when a large national chain takes over a venerable
local institution, it loses its character and responsiveness to the
community.

Sincerely,

Lisa


Thank you for letting us know about your book. When it comes to stocking
books on the shelves of our store and choosing authors for our events, we
have to make choices. More than 150,000 new titles annually are submitted to
our store by traditional publishers. With more than 1.5 million books in
print via traditional publishers & distributors, our store does not have
room to stock the tens of thousands of small press titles that are produced
annually.
Sincerely,
Nancie Scheirer
The Harvard Coop
Trade Book Manager