Do not ask, what cuts through the night

by Christine Lavant

translated from the German by David Chorlton

Do not ask, what cuts through the night,

for it is my night

and my great peacock cry

and deep inside, the tongue

with a message for me alone.

Even when the sun tomorrow,

worn out and almost deformed,

wants to rest with Purgatory's bud,

she will be driven away -

for it is my own bud

on the back of my stone

and for my approaching night.

* * * * *

Editor's note: In German the sun is female.

"Do not ask, what cuts through the night" is from SHATTER THE BELL IN MY EAR: SELECTED POEMS OF CHRISTINE LAVANT, Translated from the German by David Chorlton (The Bitter Oleander Press, 2017).

Christine Lavant (July 4, 1915 – June 7, 1973) was an Austrian poet and novelist.

David Chorlton is a poet, translator, and visual artist. He lives in Phoenix. http://www.davidchorlton.mysite.com/

Evening rain rings against the window leading

by Christine Lavant

translated from the German by David Chorlton

Evening rain rings against the window leading.

My carpet of brown packing paper

is full of tired folds.

In God's name, may I crush none!

The light in my eyes has really become so faint

in these recent bitter weeks.

What will we pray, Heart, as long as it rings?

First for the souls in Purgatory,

then for all those in despair: -

prisoners, the ones sick with cancer, or tuberculosis.

Not to forget animals in captivity,

withering away displaced and homesick!

But we must keep kneeling

for long lines of the mentally confused

on the glassy steps of melancholy

leading down to hellish madness.

If that has been overcome then help us God,

so we think of all who were our friends,

each benefactor too! - For without them we would now

be out in the rain with no roof above our heads,

only misery outside and in.

* * * * *

"Evening rain rings against the window leading" is from SHATTER THE BELL IN MY EAR: SELECTED POEMS OF CHRISTINE LAVANT, Translated from the German by David Chorlton (The Bitter Oleander Press, 2017).

Christine Lavant (July 4, 1915 – June 7, 1973) was an Austrian poet and novelist.

David Chorlton is a poet, translator, and visual artist. He lives in Phoenix. http://www.davidchorlton.mysite.com/

White Sand

by Connie James

We walked through white sand

my lover and I on bare feet.

Silken were our arms when

locked together.

Clear were our smiles for

lilies grow in our hearts.

Pure smooth stones we found

and joy is our only message.

No secrets can be found; as the

sun does shine on our minds.

With cooperation do we relate

and love is breathing on that

white sand, while we hold

the blue and green small smooth stones.

* * * * *

Connie James is a poet, mother, and grandmother who has lived in Eugene, Oregon for many decades.  She has been published in literary journals and anthologies such as Mermaid Mirror and The Elephant, and has published two chapbooks; Magic Mirrors and Poiesis.  Connie is also an artist, and her illustrations are included in her chapbooks.  When not writing or drawing, Connie is an avid supporter of all arts.

Politics

by Katherine L. Gordon

White guys in their smug sixties

suit jackets barely buttoning

over bulging well-fed

well-beveraged bellies,

dictating to angry-thin street strugglers

how to think, what to expect,

in cruelly perilous times.

* * * * *

"Politics" is from Katherine L. Gordon's new collection Wing-Wishing: Of Unicorns, Ravens and Wolves (Melinda Cochrane Publications Inc., 2019).

Katherine L. Gordon is a poet, author, publisher, judge and reviewer. Her work has been translated into several languages. She has many books, chapbooks and anthology collections with talented peers whose works inspire her. She promotes poetry as a unifying force around the globe.

A Chimera of Summer

by Katherine L. Gordon

Summer dreams peeled away

from an old decaying boat,

a once-vessel of sun and water mating

in the abandon of wave sparkle

a rowing into islands of escape.

Now disabled and dying,

remnants of cabin command

sag of stair mounts and rails

that still suggest in aura

their response to a confidence of captaining.

In the snows that follow all of summer chimera

there are footprints preserved,

they lead limply away,

no return of days allowed.

* * * * *

"A Chimera of Summer" is from Katherine L. Gordon's new collection Wing-Wishing: Of Unicorns, Ravens and Wolves (Melinda Cochrane Publications Inc., 2019).

Katherine L. Gordon is a poet, author, publisher, judge and reviewer. Her work has been translated into several languages. She has many books, chapbooks and anthology collections with talented peers whose works inspire her. She promotes poetry as a unifying force around the globe.

Indelible in the Hippocampus

by Imogen Arate

Strolling two blocks from my residence 

Seeking sanctuary in a community 

Growing hostile toward this transplant 

Chasing a better life but marginalized 

Through historical mistrust 

Grown out of prejudice 

Adding layers of otherness

Because she, I, dared to speak up 

Against an assault by a pervy resident

Stepped into a cocooned trap

Because the police refused to investigate 

The judge refused to grant a restraint 

That beautiful living space

Basked in the warmth of a winter's fire

And idealized budding communal friendship 

Will soon conspire to prove its disdain 

Toward an acquaintance framed as the other

To protect their own long-term predator

And lies are buttressed against nuanced facts

Given priority absent the system's desire 

To deal an even hand for shielding those already in power

As I fled in the night toward a safer harbor

Frightful of another assault he'd be encouraged 

To pursue after he'd witness their enabling

Those short two blocks 

Stretched to a length unending 

More gaslit than a nineteenth-century Champs-Élysées

Don't demand from me forgiveness 

When those words of apologies 

Come with rationalizations

To hitch the yolk of responsibility

Unto one who ran but could not get away

Weighed down by sickness and exhaustion 

Used as excuses to further violate

I can't offer absolutions 

When I'm kept busy 

Fending off daggers 

Now a year removed from this heartbreak

Though I've been repeatedly prevented 

From seeking justice 

I swore I would transfer their power

To those without patronage 

Help augment the voices 

Of those forced to whisper 

And I'm keeping my word with my actions 

To counter the hypocrisy of those polite impostors

More keen to preserve their comforting lies 

Than to dismantle the nightmares of their creation

* * * * *

"Indelible in the Hippocampus" is also read and discussed on Poets and Muses 5/6/19,

https://soundcloud.com/poetsandmuses/imogen-arate-with-sean-avery

Imogen Arate is a US-based Poet and the Executive Producer and Host of Poets and Muses (https://poetsandmuses.com/), a weekly poetry podcast where she chats with poets about their inspirations. She has written in verse since her tween years, in four languages and published in two (English and French). While Imogen has always utilized poetry as a vehicle for self expression, she has also found it to be an effective therapeutic tool in coping with a recent trauma.

I Couldn't Visit Dachau 

by Imogen Arate

When I was in Munich

I couldn't bring myself 

To visit Dachau

Already exhausted 

I feared I would collapse 

Into unmendable parts

Under the emotional encounter 

I avoided all the camps 

It was an appreciated privilege 

Instead

I talked with gentle

Older German ladies

Who took me 

Off my itinerary 

Some to their home towns 

Rebuilt post war

Through broken English 

Some told me of their

Sons who lived in kibbutz 

To atone for a generation's sins

Others told me about the firebombing 

Of now reconstructed quaint towns

Of the lake of fire 

That swallowed the unlucky

Moments after losing grip

Of their firmly believed cause

Thought to assure victory

Sympathy for one's enemy 

Ideology attached to human faces

Also a symptom of privilege 

Much like that of 

The luxury of having

The time to feel

Instead of the necessity 

Of self numbing for survival 

Yet my enemy is the conflict 

That cheapens life

That rationalizes cruelty 

As long as I hate their philosophy 

That demands I weigh suffering 

To measure their worth in empathy 

I ask for better of myself 

Though I'm unsure

If I'd be a hero or coward

In the times they had lived in 

Or even the era I now live in

* * * * *

"I Couldn't Visit Dachau" is also read and discussed on Poets and Muses 2/2/20, https://soundcloud.com/poetsandmuses/imogen-arate-with-beate-sigriddaughter

Imogen Arate is a US-based Poet and the Executive Producer and Host of Poets and Muses (https://poetsandmuses.com/), a weekly poetry podcast where she chats with poets about their inspirations. She has written in verse since her tween years, in four languages and published in two (English and French). While Imogen has always utilized poetry as a vehicle for self expression, she has also found it to be an effective therapeutic tool in coping with a recent trauma.