These words, separate,
like worlds, like crevices,
in bleached driftwood
on pebbled night,
on moon-coded shore
The fine calligraphy
acid, alchemical filigree
on indigo silk swirl
of the unrolled prayer mat
of a setting sun.
~ Marian Robson
Maria Robson is a Montreal teacher, freelance writer and translator who loves to travel and research, first hand, the nomadic life. She is currently working at Sultan Qaboos University in Oman.
Read more of Maria Robson’s poetry:
- Potter’s Hands
- That Which Must Go
- Cynical Vows
- The Nameless Tune
- Bougainvillae
- Sunset
Filed under: Maria Robson
by akublik Date 4 March, 2010
No comments »
A poet is passionately in love with language. W.H.Auden
Few joys compare
to meeting words that match,
whisper, the grey-ragged milk
of layered mist
on winter-pined crags
Words, like giddy-green back flips
from silver-sharp skates,
deceptive in effortless loop
on blue-crystal ice
Words that burn in the Reader
like Psyche’s lamp high -
hanging the consequence -
daring the wrath of gods
to glimpse Eros,
languid in sleep
~ Marian Robson
Maria Robson is a Montreal teacher, freelance writer and translator who loves to travel and research, first hand, the nomadic life. She is currently working at Sultan Qaboos University in Oman.
Read more of Maria Robson’s poetry:
- Potter’s Hands
- That Which Must Go
- Cynical Vows
- The Nameless Tune
- Bougainvillae
- Sunset
Filed under: Maria Robson
by akublik Date 1 March, 2010
No comments »
Tune in to CKUA on Sunday, March 7, at 12:30 pm, as Ken Davis talks to House of Blue Skies publisher and editor Dymphny Dronyk about Home and Away.
Ken and Dymphny chat about how House of Blue Skies got its start, the process of creating a poetry anthology, the fun of working with Alberta’s amazing poets, and how the anthology found its way onto the bestseller lists in both the Edmonton Journal (#2) and the Calgary Herald (#3), as well as being featured in The Grande Prairie Daily Herald-Tribune.
Filed under: News
by akublik Date 28 February, 2010
No comments »
do not love me
do not love my words
for like me they are without
body or mind bereft
of a place for soul
so that even the touch of
my bare feet to the ground
signals the idea of nothing
complete not even that of
a life lip-licked on vellum
~ Anne Sorbie
Anne Sorbie was born in Paisley, Scotland and she lives and writes in Calgary. Her fiction has appeared in journals such as Geist and Other Voices. Anne’s first novel, Memoir of a Good Death, is forthcoming (September 2010) with Thistledown Press.
Read more of Anne Sorbie’s poetry:
- some quaint perched aerie on the cliffs of time #2
Editor’s note: This poem is one of a series of ten “neruda spell” poems by Anne Sorbie that are being featured on blue skies poetry this week.
Filed under: Anne Sorbie
by akublik Date 26 February, 2010
1 Comment »
my eyes weep violets and blood
my palms hold mountains and men
yet one touch of your hand
is like a promissory note
carved in agate on a high peak
tumbled in the heat of thawing falls
~ Anne Sorbie
Anne Sorbie was born in Paisley, Scotland and she lives and writes in Calgary. Her fiction has appeared in journals such as Geist and Other Voices. Anne’s first novel, Memoir of a Good Death, is forthcoming (September 2010) with Thistledown Press.
Read more of Anne Sorbie’s poetry:
- some quaint perched aerie on the cliffs of time #2
Editor’s note: This poem is one of a series of ten “neruda spell” poems by Anne Sorbie that are being featured on blue skies poetry this week.
Filed under: Anne Sorbie
by akublik Date 26 February, 2010
No comments »
