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
October 2010 Silent Lotus’ Selected
Poets’
Tiko Lewis
and his guest Stella Read
Steve Toth
and his guest Sheila Heldenbrand
Tiko
Lewis
Monday
walls
of winter
salt
air
of chicory
and musk
i see
no trees
or leaves
sidewalks
or sideburns
no hands
in hands
no lips
pressed
to cheeks
or to passing
car windows
morning
has come
we remain
unadorned
and
wingless
Her Redwoods
the forest
towers
above shadows
and shores
where mists
lurch
over
dust of
forgotten
prayers
and
timbre
unknown
by men
 | Tiko Lews lives in Houston, Tx. besides writing, he enjoys cigars, cooking, and sin. he’s married to a girl he met in the 10th grade, and they have two not so little ones. Tiko is also an editor at Poetry Circle. http://www.poetrycircle.com |
Stella
Read
Patchwork
October’s palette, umber
and cherry
blocks of colour
daubed and contrasted
with saffron or rust
adornments torn
and transformed
into a crackling shroud
leaving bare
the intricacies of
bark and bone
| Canadian poet, Stella Read, lives in Ontario with her husband and daughters. She is the primary caregiver to her elderly mother who suffers from Alzheimer’s. Stella’s love of nature is often reflected in her work. She is a regular contributor at Poetry Circle. http://www.poetrycircle.com |
Steve
Toth
Voices
The voice of experience said
don’t let them touch you
intrusion is a function of distance
Haven’t you heard about the people
who develop pictures & how
they sometimes get depressed
because all the faces & poses
are so much alike?
One life ends in a blur
& another begins in one too
The voice of the heart said
haven’t you noticed how some of
the nicest people are also
the sickest & because they are
the sickest you see them more often
& get to know them better?
From then on I felt myself working
in imagination to ease their pain
& to heal them silently
with a discharge of will power
Transplanted
Coming in with our shovel & buckets
having transplanted four crowded fuchsias
& one light starved geranium
Upon closing the door we look out
the window at our handiwork
We see a hummingbird ia already
hovering in the empty space
once occupied by the largest plant
rotating on her axis in many directions
as if calculating the missing mass
Where the garden wears a vacant look
she hangs as if in utter amazement
as if something incredible has taken place
What’s this void doing here?
Plants don’t just walk off by themselves
Then she darts about the garden
checking for other discrepancies
where reality is at variance with actuality
& the vision is at odds with the visualization
Obsessed with how the immediate is rendered
It’s as if the hummingbird
has a three dimensional image
of where everything important goes
& that image can only be changed
by direct experience
| Steve Toth was born in northern Minnesota where they have one month of spring, one month of summer, one month of fall & nine months of winter. Grew up, went to school & got married in eastern Iowa. Now living in north western California where the mountains, ocean & redwood forests come together. The words speak for themselves. Steve has two books that are still in print….. Still Making Love Not War & Rewood Dreams. His poetry is featured on All Spirit http://allspirit.co.uk/ and he posts regularly in the Sacred Poetry Forum at Poety Chaikhana http://www.poetry-chaikhana.com and in the yahoo groups Sufi Mystic and Warrior Poets. |
Sheila
Heldenbrand
Three Women
A Group of People decide to go for a ride in the car. The front of
the car is sunk into the road to the top of the bumper. I start to
drive, but the only seat left is the passenger seat, tending the
baby. My practical Taurus sister drives. A bull. She tries to drive
away fast, but can hardly keep ahead of the bull. She stops at the
driveway and I get out to get the mail. A voice says, ‘Let someone
smaller do it.’ Two women immediately jump out and race to the
mailbox. The bull beats them back to their seats, steps in, and
says, ‘Drive on.’
| Sheila Hildebrand was born in 1951, Year of the Rabbit, and grew up on a farm in the Midwest suffering from asthma. Lived with my grandparents until I was five, watching TV, not allowed off the sofa. Learned to read and read late at night, sleeping in class. Bachelor of General Studies in 1973, University of Iowa, with three areas of concentration: Writer’s workshop, archaeology, comparative religion. Four dream prose poems published by Leonard Seastone, Tideline Press, 1976 after a reading at Epstein’s Bookstore–though my workshop fiction writing grad-student instructor, later Pultizer prize winning author, Tracy Kidder, said that dreams were not a valid creative medium. Married Steve Toth and worked as a bookkeeper in rubber cane tip manufacturing and quality assurance data in aerospace for the Department of Defense for over twenty years in Los Angeles. Retired early because of health problems to the Pacific Northwest after acquiring multiple chemical sensitivity. |
Poetry Corner Monthly Archives
POETRY CORNER by silent lotus … SEPTEMBER 2010
POETRY CORNER by silent lotus … AUGUST 2010
POETRY CORNER by silent lotus … JUNE 2010
POETRY
CORNER by silent lotus … MAY 2010
