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Artist Anna Schuleit and composer Yotam Haber collaborated on a project inspired by The Voice Imitator, a collection of 104 short stories by Thomas Bernhard. The artist made 104 mixed media drawings/paintings to correspond with the music Haber created inspired by the stories. Schuleit's other works can be seen at www.anna-schuleit.com.
Memories Suspended by Filaments
-in the voice of Joseph Cornell The house is small, but it has room for dreams. For birds, books, stamps, stars, marbles, butterflies, balls, dolls, my brother Robert, maps, romance, playing cards, lace, lobsters, small sticky hope. Eyes down, I walk the streets of Manhattan, eat pastries, sweet, stale, talk to pigeons, find orphaned desires in gutters, in dime stores, in second-hand shops with dusty windows. I discover, gather, magpie away. My treasures hibernate waiting, sleeping in basement shelf rows, labeled by heartbeats slowed to a drip. When my dossiers have lived together long enough, I take them out, let them speak, cherish them in my boxes, where parrots talk of sunsets, and clay pipes float and fill with a summer of bubbles. Behind glass, my birds and my women sing, locked into universes I create, where lovers are dancers, princesses, queens, secrets detained in shining glass bottles. I sing the juene fille Lauren Bacall, slender Botticelli, silent in blue, construct a pink palace with sapphire stars. I mediate history for the Prince of the Medici, give him a compass so he finds and he follows true love. Oh, Bebe Marie, you are so beautiful, pale pink, hidden among silvery twigs. Ruth Bavetta My poems have been published in Rhino, Rattle, Nimrod, Tar River Poetry, North American Review, Spillway, Hanging Loose, Poetry East, and Poetry New Zealand, among many others, and are included in four anthologies. I have published two books, Embers on the Stairs (FutureCycle Press),and Fugitive Pigments (Moon Tide Press.) Two more books, No Longer at this Address (Tebot Bach) and Flour, Water, Salt (FutureCycle Press) are forthcoming. The Vietnam Memorial
I was reading the names, carved in the black marble as rows that rose like a strange city’s skyline. The columns of their names, tall, skeletal buildings with no walls, rows of letters standing like scaffolding in the stony night of the black marble. I walked along the path; the grayish-white of my body floated beside me --– reflected on the wall, sliding over their names like a veil or ghost. The wall grew taller, burying me, it seemed, in the bright noontime air. I could feel the joining: the alive and the not alive. Sally Bliumis-Dunn Sally Bliumis-Dunn is the author of Talking Underwater and Second Skin (Wind Publications, 2007, and 2010). She teaches at Manhattanville College and lives in Armonk, New York. A Portrait
If not for the faces within his face he would look like an ordinary man: black close-cropped hair, dark eyebrows, tapered cheeks, reddish lips and beige skin. But there is a face in each of his eyes, no eyeball, just a face. And there is a face in each of his nostrils --- a face in place of his tongue, a face inside each ear. These faces within his face are the bloodless white of mimes or ghosts. They are the faces of those who have named him, who have shown him to himself. He cannot speak or see without them and he hears them in his dreams, where even the smell of a rose does not feel quite his own. Sally Bliumis-Dunn Sally Bliumis-Dunn is the author of Talking Underwater and Second Skin (Wind Publications, 2007, and 2010). She teaches at Manhattanville College and lives in Armonk, New York. Bay She draws tiny circles one by one with her left hand. They foam across the canvas like bubbles on the beach roil and effervesce across the sand. Colored pencil circles done freehand on gesso sanded clean and white as bleach, drawn one by one with her left hand. A mitosis of new cells, bacteria, a strand of stars, thousands come together, leach their efflorescence from the sand. A spume of blues and greens fanned as distant from the past as she can reach drawing round and round with her left hand. Creeping over bounds and edges, contraband reflections crawl across the canvas, pleached with roils and effervescence on the sand. She transcends a childhood she did not understand, closes memories away without their speech, as tiny circles fall one by one from her left hand and they roil and effloresce across the sand. Ruth Bavetta Previously published in Fugitive Pigments, FutureCycle Press. My poems have been published in Rhino, Rattle, Nimrod, Tar River Poetry, North American Review, Spillway, Hanging Loose, Poetry East, and Poetry New Zealand, among many others, and are included in four anthologies. I have published two books, Embers on the Stairs (FutureCycle Press),and Fugitive Pigments (Moon Tide Press.) Two more books, No Longer at this Address (Tebot Bach) and Flour, Water, Salt (FutureCycle Press) are forthcoming. blame me
irony (more than it should) brings mirth to lip; they shed their skin they grope a viscous life to mask the nakedness but still their eyes uncontoured vacancy create enhance remember sheathing, viscous coat that looks like you it looks it looks like you she said, unfazed; a wrathful look approached and sticky rain began to spit do not confuse me dear my age reveals the scope of signs repeated dear do not confuse like me your terms are incorrect; as me as me sounds truthful don’t you think? she placed a hand in sticky rain and laughed speaking ‘camera man your lens is not an eye’ while mountains crumbled. Richard Hanson Richard Hanson explains, "blame me is an expression of self-loathing during the creative process. It’s motivated by the nagging feeling that attempting to ‘make art’ is futile. The poem forms a mockery of my own attempts at creation, and the facades, falsities and pretenses that have often plagued me." Haiku
storm debris – sunlight plays over cleft logs flames lick cloven tongues Lee Nash Lee Nash lives in France and freelances as an editorial designer for a UK publisher. Her poems have appeared or are forthcoming in print and online journals in the UK, the US and France including The French Literary Review, The Dawntreader, The Lake, Inksweatandtears, Orbis, Sentinel Literary Quarterly, The Interpreter's House, The World Haiku Review, Black Poppy Review and Silver Birch Press. You can find a selection of Lee’s poems at leenashpoetry.com |
The Ekphrastic Review
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