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Copyright: ESSAADINOV, Essaadi Mohamed Ali" href="http://image-poesie.over-blog.com/article-femmes-de-lumiere-par-mohamed-ali-essaadi-tunisie-france-41692516.html"> LES FEMMES LUMIERES, par MOHAMED ALI ESSAADI, Tunisie - France

23 Décembre 2009, 12:37pm

Publié par image.poésie

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Copyright: ESSAADINOV, Essaadi Mohamed Ali

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BELATED PALINODE FOR DYLAN THOMAS, by LAWRENCE FERLINGHETTI (USA). DYLAN THOMAS' portrait by OLIVER LAKE, UK

4 Décembre 2009, 15:58pm

Publié par image.poésie

 

dylan.jpg

(copyright de l'artiste)

 

LIEN: LINK: http://artflock.com/artist/lakeillustration/

 

BELATED PALINODE FOR DYLAN THOMAS

In Wales at Laugharne at last I stand beside
..his cliff-perched writing shed
....above the coursing waters
......where the hawk hangs still
........above the cockle-strewn shingle
Where he walked in a glory of all his days
....(before the weather turned around)
And aie! aie! a waterbird far away
....cries and cries again
......over St. Johns Hill
And in his tilted boathouse now
....a tape of himself is playing --
......his lush voice
........his plush voice
..........his posh accent
............(too BBC-fulsome, cried the Welsh)
..............now echoes through his little
................upstairs room
And aie! aie!
.....echo the waterbirds once again
Beyond his sounding shed
....a fig tree hides the sea
......A fishboat heeled over
........a grebe afloat far out
..........a coracle abandoned
............a rusted coaler out of Cardiff still
..............a bold green headland lost in sun
Beyond which lie (across an ocean and a continent)
....San Francisco's white wood houses
......and a poet's sun-bleached cottage
........on Bolinas' far lagoon
..........with its wind-torn Little Mesa
............(so very like St. Johns Hill)
A single kestrel soars over
....riding the salt wind
........'high tide and the heron's call'
.........................................still echoing
...........(Aie! aie! it calls and calls again)
As in his listing boathouse now
....his great recorded voice runs out
......(grave as a gravedigger in his grave)
........leaving a sounding void of light
..........for poets and herons to fill
(Drowned down in New York's White Horse Tavern
....he went not gentle into his good night)
And Far West poets calling still
....over St. Johns Hill
......to the loveliest poet of all our days
........sweet singer of Swansea
..........lushed singer of Laugharne
............Dylan of all our days

-- Lawrence Ferlinghetti, These Are My Rivers


(reprinted by permission of LAWRENCE FERLINGHETTI) 

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THE BUDDHIST, tableau de MAKEMBA KUNLE, Trinidad and Tobago. Poésie d'AERONWY THOMAS, UK

1 Décembre 2009, 19:53pm

Publié par image.poésie

the-buddhist.jpg

 

(copyright de l'artiste)

 

LIEN: http://www.artbreak.com/kunle

MONASTERY IN SHASTA

 

As you say, Ann,

 Buddhas were my thing

Long ago

in flower power days

we strewed petals

to honour him

sat in a lotus-like squat

and emptied our minds.

No mantras, no noise,

no distraction

only Buddha

on his plinth and us

with our backs to him

our bottoms raised

on kapok cushions,

contemplating the wall.

Buddha took no offence

and finally broke

the shackles

in my mind

eased my aching joints

and made me –

just by his wooden–

tranquillity -

and would break free

from all that grief.

 

                                                           AERONWY  THOMAS

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EL OJO, tableau de LUIS PINTO, Guatemala. Poésie d'AERONWY THOMAS, UK

1 Décembre 2009, 14:51pm

Publié par image.poésie

el-ojo.jpg

(copyright de l'artiste)

LIEN: http://www.artbreak.com/luisPinto

FLOATING   EYES

1

 

Eyes float like seaweed

On perfect blue waters

To see fish bolt or approach

 

 

 

2

 

Look into the deep

To see fish greet you

Nature and man reconciled

 

3

 

Look into the depth

Fish approach, jump with joy

A meeting

 

                                                  AERONWY    THOMAS

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