For the inner ear, the voice of the vessel of silence is an embrace
felt by an infinite number of scribes.
It is my wish to offer here an oasis of present day poetic
pens.
Each month i shall invite new poets to breathe with, and they in
turn will bring guests of their own.
Poetry Corner at TIFERET has evolved out of Donna Stein’s
enthusiasm to nurture the spirit of beauty in all its forms.
silent lotus
February 2011 Silent Lotus’ Selected
Poets’
Rick Stansberger
and his guest Michelle Beth Cronk
Lisa Starr
and her guest Coleman Barks
Rick
Stansberger
Sunset Fire, Mountain, Rain
Cloud-filled gulleys.
A killing ground– flame
smoke, steam — so
steep the fire crews
let this one burn.
Smells like incense
from ten miles away
looks like Shangri-la,
mind-road to Buddha-land
sunset pouring straight
into those clouds
then straight back out.
2 AM in the Season of Storms
Tiger tonight
growls among mountains.
The bruja
who becomes a cat to cross a road,
the duende
who sprouts from mesquite black,
they hear it too.
They and I,
greedy for the sound.
Rick Stansberger has been publishing here and there since 1965. His most recent collection of poems, Stark, Ohio, was published in 2010 by TMJF Publishing. He resides in Silver City, New Mexico, where he teaches writing and maintains several blogs. sleepswithbear.wordpress.com Rick can be reached at: stansbergerr@wnmu.edu |
Michelle Beth Cronk
Grief
One day you will be gone
and I will fall quietly,
like rain, with no preference
for my landing place.
Review)
Michelle Beth Cronk lives in Southern California with her husband and children. She is a contributor and editor to the online community at PoetryCircle.com and is finishing up her first manuscript. She has various work published here and there online at journals including Lock Raven Review, Tryst, elimae, and Eclectica. She is also very pleased and honored to be featured with Rick Stansberger, who “gets” her poems and is a constant source of support and encouragement. |
Lisa
Starr
Sandpipers, Again
I went back to the sandpipers today—
it’s been a while.
Six of them, or
was it twenty? Never matters;
somehow we all know when a meeting
has been called,
somehow we all know
exactly
when the surf will start
tossing back
its wild silver hair.
One time I was astonished
to find them waiting for me
on the beach in Newport.
It was so quiet
it was like rain,
without the rain.
I wasn’t planning it
my car just brought me there,
a most uncommon thing—
it’s not that kind of car
but there we were, alone on a beach.
It almost made me giddy,
like today,
just now.
I’d forgotten how much
I need them.
Like me they were laughing and
sputtering about the beauty.
A few of them couldn’t help it
and just kept throwing their small bodies
again and again
into the wild, white water.
Because
Lately she’s been falling in love everywhere—
at the market, in the pharmacy, always in the cafeteria
sliding her tray over the metal rails,
last week with the hands of the attendant at a gas station.
It’s not right, she knows, but still, she can’t help it.
Sometimes it happens all day long.
Yesterday at the campus it was everything again—
The way the postmaster, on lunch break, went whistling past,
or how the frisbee players sing the quad.
The way some students stay after class, that usually gets her.
Cashiers, people who sing at stop lights—all fair game.
Cab drivers—forget it.
With ice cream scoopers, with their little paper hats,
it is often love at first sight,
and she will never forget the boy at the sandwich shop—
the way he said “miss, would you like anything to drink?”
to the 80-year-old woman in front of her,
then when it was her turn said “Ma’am” instead.
Later today, blessed by all this loving
she will make some tea and play a violin concerto
for her dog who is deaf.
She will play the music as loud as it will go
because she can, and because somehow, he’ll hear it
and he will stand on the porch of the fine yellow house,
glowing.
She will be all choked up
because the lawn chairs
have never been this white before
and because, tired ears flapping
in a soft Autumn breeze,
the old dog will bark back his joy.
![]() | An inn-keeper, a mother, a basketball coach and a teacher, Lisa Starr, Rhode Island’s Poet Laureate, divides her time among a variety of interests, her children, and her passion for poetry. She is a two-time recipient of the R.I. Fellowship for Poetry. In her capacity as Poet Laureate, Starr has established dozens of poetry circles in typically marginalized communities. She is a proud and founding member of Ocean State Poets, a team of volunteers that travels around the state, sharing poetry at facilities for the elderly, schools, hospitals, group homes, libraries, the prison, and agencies for children and adults with severe mental and physical disabilities. In April of 2009 Starr assembled more than a dozen US State Poets Starr’s third collection of poems, Mad With Yellow, was |
Coleman Barks
A Sky-Opening
Now this light,
last day of June 2010,
sun going down, gone down,
but with a glow out the east window
so strong an overall surround,
hard rainstorm just over,
pinkish blue, gold sky everywhere one glow,
reminding me again how it was in my childhood,
how it still is,
the way a change in light and air
makes you have to walk outside
to try to get closer to it
out in the yard or in the street
under a sky-opening through the trees.
Born in 1937 in Chattanooga, Tennessee and educated at the Univ. of North Carolina (BA 1959; PhD 1968) and at the Univ. of California, Berkeley (MA 1961), Coleman Barks has since 1977 collaborated with various scholars of the Persian language (most notably, John Moyne) to bring over into American free verse the poetry of the 13th Century mystic, Jelaluddin Rumi. This work has resulted in twenty-one volumes, including the bestselling Essential Rumi in 1995, two appearances on Bill Moyers’ PBS specials, and inclusion in the prestigious Norton Anthology of World Masterpieces. The Rumi translations have sold over a million copies. It is claimed that over the last fifteen years Rumi has been the most-read poet in the United States. In October 2010 HarperOne published RUMI: THE BIG RED BOOK, which collects all of the work on Rumi’s ghazals and rubai that he has done over the past thirty-four years. Dr. Barks taught American Literature and Creative Writing at |
Poetry Corner Monthly Archives
POETRY CORNER by silent lotus … JANUARY 2011
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