 Anger into Wisdom, by Alfredo Arreguin (USA) 2019. Image 20x 25 1/8". Art courtesy of the Rob Schouten Gallery. Alfredo Arreguín is represented by Rob Schouten Gallery, Langley WA. Click on image for artist/gallery page. after Anger into Wisdom, by Alfredo Arreguin (1935 - 2023) (USA) 2019 “If Lorca developed the definition of deep sound, Arreguin developed deep painting.” Tess Gallagher Alfredo Arreguin, bringer and painter of the magical jungle, the Lacandon. Azure-eyed, you prowl like a big cat, a tiger fierce and strong. Hairs of your brushstroke shimmer with the red cries of toucans and the silent songs of hummingbirds, beautiful violet-breasted warriors, hearts beating for flower, for fruit, for life. You are the jungle incarnate, Arreguin, swimming the great river of soul, Against the beat of time, turning anger into wisdom. Transforming sadness into light. ** en honor de La ira se convierte en sabiduría, por Alfredo Arreguin (USA) 2019 “Si Lorca desarrolló la definición de sonido profundo, Arreguin desarrolló pintura profunda." Tess Gallagher Alfredo Arreguin, portador y pintor para la jungla mágica, Selva Lacandona. Ojos azules, tú merodeas como un gran felino, un tigre fuerte y feroz. Los cabellas de la pincelada brillan con los gritos rojos de tucanes y los cantos silencios por los colibríes, guerreros hermosos con pechos violetos, corazones latiendo por la flor, por la fruta, por la vida. Tú eres la jungla encarnada, Arreguin, nadando en el río del alma, Contra el latido del tiempo, cambiando la irá en sabiduría. Transformando la tristeza en luz. M. L. Lyons M. L. Lyons is a poet, playwright and writer. Lyons co-edited Raising Lilly Ledbetter: Women Poets Occupy the Workspace. Her book, Songs from the Multiverse is currently available. Lyons is currently completing Orwell's Last Republic, a play about Eric Blair, his older self, George Orwell and his wife Eileen as they wrestle with war, censorship and surveillance en route to Orwell writing 1984. She is also composing a series of multilingual ekphrastic poems.
0 Comments
 Nighthawks, by Edward Hopper (USA) 1942 Nocturnal Refugees Night that brings with itself lack of love, hesitation on living, even fear, as escaping and fleeing from world’s demands. Night passing far away from others not long ago, paraphrased by so many poets always praising, since ancient times, beauty of mutual warmth and human complicity. People hidden in a furtive safety of a dull bar, unable to come out of their shells and share some good news, perhaps hidden desires or love secrets, yet distrust and uncertainties. Yet unable to reach that souls’ communion, entire and unique humans’ purpose, fearful to break supposed barriers, walls and fences separating us. Where the firmness of our ancestors, never afraid to penetrate dangers of dark and haunted nights? Where the joy and smiles, where the words that had spoken their dreams and drawn their desires? Words and desires that built the world they bequeathed us which we are about to lose, deaf and dumb for its beauties. Unhappy and disinterested, we will transfer to our sons only aridity and dryness, our aloofness and our despair. Edilson Afonso Ferreira This poem was first published in Young Ravens Literary Review. A Brazilian poet, Edilson Afonso Ferreira, 82, writes in English rather than Portuguese. Largely published in international literary journals, by about 400 different publications, he began writing at age 64, after he retired from a bank. He is a Pushcart Prize nominee and the author of Lonely Sailor and Joie de Vivre. He is always updating his literary blog at www.edilsonmelofereira.com  Too Soon For Thunder, by Kay Sage (USA) 1943 Exposure Do you feel it? The dry, parched land sucking away any remaining life force. Can you smell the decay? Taste the sand? Feel how it pulls moisture from your mouth. The only remnant of Nature: the sickly green undertone in the pale burnt umber-grey sky. That undertone seeps into the landscape of camel hair-coloured shapes. Straight lines, as though a folded paper airplane, flute into a fine point. Pyramidal, teepee type structures in different sizes. And the one, looking like rolled paper will eventually crumble to its ankles. One can’t help notice the sanguine cloak around the figure in the foreground. How it offered no protection from what had been wrought. What remains looks like a gingerbread person, hollowed out, with piped royal icing—a desiccation of arteries, vessels, sinews. No vultures, maggots, flesh flies, or dermestid beetles to continue the feast. Already the figure’s shadow has fallen over the edge of the wall behind it. Lost into something else. And what about that half-moon shape on the vertical edge of the paper plane? Perhaps a pregnant belly. Too soon, the wind will gust again. Strong enough to blow us out of existence. Cyndi Lloyd Cyndi Lloyd is a poet, writer, and artist. She earned a B.A. in English, from Westminster College (now University) and served as editor-in-chief of the 2012 ellipsis…literature & art. Her short-form Japanese poems appear in worldwide journals, such as Modern Haiku and Presence, various anthologies, including Red Moon Press and A New Resonance 13, and have received editor’s choice awards and placed in various competitions. Lloyd was haibun co-editor of Drifting Sands #1. She resides in Riverton, Utah with her husband and dog where she enjoys taking too many photographs.  Cottage In Maine, by Mali Regan (USA) 2024 Cottage in Maine Solitude. Bequeathed, boarded up for decades Until they found me, second cousin once removed. Blinded by life, I chose Wyoming to clear my head on trails, Dust memories to dust. Back from a ride, a package found me. Postmarked from Maine Where my easels rested in my teacher's studio. Sealed – that part of my life – But this invitation issued by the lawyer Created invisible threads. This gray-hair widow gives second thought to The painting that captures my youth. What lies inside the cabin? Echoes, dreams, promises, cousins, Fish stories, black sheep, veterans. Evelyn Asher Evelyn, a gatherer, has facilitated Ekphrasis for the Masses for the past six years as a gift to her community through the Quinlan Visual Arts Center. She often sketches and writes poetry on the shore of the Chattahoochee River in North Georgia.  "Knitting Madonna,” detail from The Buxtehude Altar, by Master Bertram (modern Germany) c. 1400-10 Knitting Madonna Jesus has grown — no manger bed, no showers of stars — to bide in shade of appled trees. For now, casting off childish toys, he reads in passing peace amid the snake’s head flowers while Mary knits, arrayed in cheerful gown to greet two angels clad in pinks and greens, as though their festive Sunday best would ease the somber word they bring of somber hours. So Jesus lays aside his book — he knows before he marks the angels’ hold on lance and thorny crown and threefold nails and cross. His wistful smile reveals he understands the angel watching Mary grieve her loss, his seamless robe unfinished in her hands. Clare Bryden Clare Bryden is a writer and web developer based in Exeter, UK. Her interests are wide-ranging, but primarily the place of humanity within the natural world of which we are part, and the related theology and psychology of connectedness. Her poetry has been published in Ink Sweat and Tears, The Christian Century and the British Dental Journal among others. In 2025 she achieved 111 rejections. In 2026 she could finally start harvesting asparagus from her garden.  The Burning Giraffe, by Salvador Dali (Spain) 1937 Sacred Bones The body keeps scores of secrets, stored in my chest of little drawers and pulled like a strung muscle at inconvenient minutes. In a past life I must have been a witch, considering I am defeated by lukewarm shower water. This is the burning of a woman wandering the desert, ready to set the Sahara in flames if only to find a fluid ounce of truth, a drop of relief. This pain peels back my crust, reveals what swirls blue and what bleeds sinew. I know my past is spilling sentences of heroic women, but I am too far veiled in the future to know them. I never met my grandmother, only read about her in the newspaper, how she knew her way with a pillow and poisoned clam chowder. My mother loved me until I grew into my own legs, developed an allergy to arsenic. In this life, women are sacred bones scaffolded by someone else’s crutches, and we are too tired to release them. We rise in dreams, count hope by the hairs on our crown. A lightning storm rages in my soles and fingertips, which I want to uproot and interrogate: where did you begin, and when will you let me be at sea? Courtney Edwards Courtney Edwards is an English teacher and photographer from Portland, OR. Her work has been published by The West Trade Review, Pile Press, The New Zealand Poetry Society, Sonora Review, Suspended Magazine, and Wild Roof Journal. Courtney enjoys traveling, exploring the PNW with her husband and three children, playing the piano, and helping to bring sea otters back to Oregon through the Elakha Alliance. You can connect with her on Instagram at @pnw.courtney If you haven't yet signed up for something at The Ekphrastic Academy, give one of our live zoom workshops a try! Our live zoom workshops on art, ekphrasis, and writing are all about creativity, connection, and conversation. Fun, affordable, and inspiring, we have a wide variety of topics on art history, writer's craft, and various themes. Check out some of the upcoming sessions below, or see them all by clicking The Ekphrastic Academy on the menu above. Ekphrasis Anonymous is a monthly meeting for ekphrastic addicts, a purely generative session of four to six curated art prompts and lots of writing exercises. Artist-focused sessions ahead include Chagall and Twombly. Or bring your scissors and some wine or tea for our surreal collage sip and snip night. There are lots of single session zooms, but we also have longer classes with Women on Writing!, Litro Magazine, and the London Arts Based Research Centre. Classes ahead include Poetry Inspired by Sharon Olds, Compelling Conflicts in Flash Fiction, Tarot and Flash Fiction, and The Story of Symbols. Find out more about these courses: The Ekphrastic Academy. Marc Chagall: the Colours of Love and Hope
CA$40.00
Marc Chagall stated repeatedly that the driving force behind his colourful artwork was love, and that love was what mattered most to him. He was no stranger to hardship and trauma, but devoted himself to beauty and joy. Join us as we dive into the life and work of this prolific artist, and write a couple of poems or story drafts inspired by his paintings. Ekphrasis Anonymous August
CA$40.00
Ekphrasis Anonymous is our new monthly generative writing session with ekphrastic prompts. This is for ekphrastic addicts and aspiring ones! Each session will include a curated selection of diverse artworks and prompt ideas for brainstorming and generating poetry or fiction. We will look at and discuss each artwork briefly, then spend time writing. We will have a few minutes to talk about our process and the option for a couple of people to share their drafts after each exercise. The curated artworks will be a grab-bag each time, from different artists, eras, styles, and cultures, chosen to inspire your writing and challenge you to new directions. Night in My Veins
CA$40.00
In this generative session, we will focus on art and ekphrasis on some of the deeper and darker themes of the human experience, such as grief, loss, fear, illness, or evil. It's an opportunity to look at artists exploring important themes, and a chance to write honestly from the soul on topics that require the same reflection and consideration as happy ones. We will look at a variety of artworks and write from several during class. Cy Twombly: art, life, poetry
CA$40.00
What's the deal with Cy Twombly? Join us to discuss the life and work of this American artist, and use several paintings for inspiration for our own poetry or stories. Twombly is a polarizing figure in the art world. His wall sized scribbled abstractions routinely fetch tens of millions of dollars from museums and collectors, with other observers left shaking their heads. He has influenced countless contemporary artists toward a free and messy aesthetic. Whether his work amazes or infuriates, join the discussion and discover what was behind this artist's enigmatic work. We will look especially closely at the influence of poetry in Cy's art. Note, we are in Canada so checkout prices are in Canadian dollars. Your bank will make the currency exchange automatically. $40 Canadian dollars is approximately $29 USD. The current exchange rate changes daily but is around 30 percent. Surrealist Collage: Sip and Snip Night
CA$40.00
Join us for a cut and paste night as we gather together to create our own surrealist collages. Please note our prices are in Canadian dollars because we are in Canada. Your card or PayPal account will convert it to the day's exchange rates. The exchange will make your price if you are in the US around $29 USD. We will look briefly at what surrealism is, then let our imaginations go wild as we make our own collage during class time. While we work, we will also look at surrealist art examples and surrealist collages, for inspiration. Surrealism draws from random juxtaposition and chance, from the unconscious, and from dreams. Bring scissors and a glue stick, paper to work on, and magazines or books that can be cut up. You can collect specific images that you want to use. A PDF of various imagery will be sent out before the class, that you can print up and cut out if desired. Feel free to bring paints, markers, pencil crayons, pastels, and anything else you want to use. Bring a glass of wine or a pot of tea as we relax, converse, and work together. Graveyard Ghosts: the cemetery in art history
CA$40.00
Join us for a tour through the tomb yard in art history, as we look at fascinating paintings of cemeteries and use several as inspiration for spooky or dark poetry or flash. Note, we are in Canada so checkout prices are in Canadian dollars. Your bank will make the currency exchange automatically. $40 Canadian dollars is approximately $29 USD. The current exchange rate changes daily but is around 30 percent. Christ in Art: Divinity, Devotion, Doubt
CA$40.00
The figure of Christ is one of the most important themes in western art history. Biblical narratives centred on Jesus are the subject of countless paintings and sculptures from ancient times to present day. Christ is a symbol of suffering, sacrifice, salvation, God's love, and the Divine in human form. He has also been the subject of scorn and disbelief. Join us for a whirlwind tour of famous and less familiar artworks of Christ, secret symbolism, and mystery, from the distant past to modern times. Learn how different artists approached the Christ story, whether inspired by church commissions or personal devotion. We will use a couple of artworks to inspire our own poems or stories. Holiday Greeting Cards Collage Night: sip and snip
CA$40.00
Join us for a collage night to make handmade greeting cards to share with friends and family for the holidays. Bring scissors, a glue stick, and card blanks (you can also just fold paper to make a card.) Bring books or magazines to cut up. We will provide a document with assorted holiday themed imagery that you are welcome to print up and cut if you wish. In this session, we will look at a variety of amusing and beautiful new and vintage greeting cards for inspiration and entertainment, as well as holiday collages. Bring your favourite wine or a pot of tea as we sip, snip, chat, and relax together. Note, we are in Canada so checkout prices are in Canadian dollars. Your bank will make the currency exchange automatically. $40 Canadian dollars is approximately $29 USD. The current exchange rate changes daily but is around 30 percent. Ghost Stories Collage Night: sip and snip
CA$40.00
By popular request, we have occasional collage night sessions. Bring scissors, a glue stick, and some books and magazines to cut up. You can also bring paints, crayons, pastels and anything else you want to play with. We will provide an additional document with some random spooky images that you are welcome to print up and cut if you wish. Tonight you will create your own ghost story with collage and mixed media. We will look at examples of Halloween art and collage, possible themes such as haunted houses, and what kinds of symbols and motifs you might choose to include in your creation. Bring your favourite wine or a pot of tea and we sip, snip, chat, and relax together.  Garden of Earthly Delights, by Hieronymus Bosch (Netherlands) 1500 The Sun is Afire on My Brain The sun is afire on my brain in Hieronymus Bosch’s Garden of Delights, I pray for a shower of cooling rain. The sun has become a dog that’s trained to leap the junkyard fence and bite, the sun is afire on my brain. Sun once sweetening country lanes before the purple swan took flight, I pray for a shower of cooling rain. No baby Jesus asleep in the hay, nor umbrellas of moons will help tonight, the sun is afire on my brain. Sun, be more than surrealist paint, be, at least, soft candlelight, I pray for a shower of cooling rain for the flowers and all the world as we strain to live and laugh and grow in your sight. The sun is afire on my brain, I pray for a shower of cooling rain. Lee Stockdale Lee Stockdale has won the United Kingdom National Poetry Prize, Montana Prize for Humor, Sidney Lanier Poetry Prize, Atlanta Review International Merit Award, other awards, and is author of Bronxville (Finishing Line Press) and Gorilla (Main Street Rag). His mother was a poet, and his childhood home was filled with art; for Lee, ekphrastic poetry is like coming home. Lee serves as a North Carolina Poetry Society Gilbert-Chappell Distinguished Poet and lives in the Western North Carolina Mountains with his wife, a potter and, like Lee also a veteran, where they practice hot yoga and feed the wild turkeys. leestockdale.com  Away She Goes, by Memy Ish-Shalom (USA) 2025 Away “A Wicked Hand.” Dahlia Ravikovitch Up and away I go, I sway away, far from your hand, far from your wicked hand. Away I go, right now, I will not wait. She’s there, I know, I see her every day. I’ll get to her and only then I’ll land. Up and away I go, I sway away. I always dream of her, I dream awake. I know she is not far, she is at hand. Away I go, right now, I will not wait. As surely as a shore awaits a wave, she’s there for me, she’s there, my promised land. Up and away I go, I sway away. You will implore, you’ll ask for one more day, you’ll vow to change yourself, you’ll vow you can, but I will go, right now, I will not wait – My Freedom calls me, so I cannot stay. I will break free and never fear your hand. Up and away I go, I sway away. Away I go, right now, I will not wait.  Higher! by Memy Ish-Shalom (USA) 2026 Swinging in the Park “Much higher, higher!” you so clearly call. “Just push me hard, like Grandma does,” you cry. “Don’t worry, not at all, I will not fall.” You raise your hand up high as if to try and reach the floating clouds to feel their fluff. “I want to get there, see them close, all right?” You close your eyes to conjure up the sight. You open them: “You don’t push hard enough! oh Mom, you can’t, you really can’t,” you sigh. “No one but Grandma can,” you add. You laugh. Dalia Ardon Dalia Ardon: "After living most of my life in Israel, I emigrated some years ago to the U.S. I have published two books of Hebrew poetry: Dazzled (2020, New World Press, Tel Aviv, Israel); Suddenly, Over the Blue (2022, Hakibbutz Hameuchad Publishing House Ltd., Bnei-Brak, Israel), the latter is a collection of ekphrastic poems, relating to paintings, photo-collages and sculptures by six artists."  Towards the Rainbow, by Joan Miró (Spain) 1941 Caged in Chaos: The bridge towards Heaven has broken and Hell’s dancing imps have banned me. The cackling hags greet me in darkness when the brightest star falls. The entrance to my soul breaks. I see the blood leak and atrocities keep circling me. Time and waves are finite in the never-ending darkness of life. Chaotic harlequins harvest the seeds condemned to never grow. The Reaper distorts his scythe when life ends with nothing worthwhile. In chaos, I lose myself or shelter from my pains. Will the clouds reveal the rainbow so that I may escape and truly live? Or will I keep crying, drowning, and trapping myself in chaos?  Awakening In The Early Morning, by Joan Miró (Spain) 1941 Beasts Before Dawn: The golden-eyed tapirs, awaken and alert the green flying fish. They have many duties to perform before the sun can rise. They look for men and women and order them to end their howling night of human passions. They calm the Magma Dame whose stomachs and brains have growled all night long. The green flying fish must chase the blue stars that hide in nebulas. The moon refuses to hide but like a stray cat, she’s chased out by the golden-eyed tapirs. All that work before dawn. The extraordinary beasts have completed the tasks that must be done. The sun arrives and they transform into average critters.  The Poetess, by Joan Miró (Spain) 1940 Broken: She looked at the night for inspiration when the day outright ignored her. “Can’t a star like you bring influence?” “Are you worth inspiring?” She sees the heads of bluebirds singing in the twilight. Twilight is past a bluebird’s bedtime. She sees the cosmic shrimp comforting the red eclipse way past dusk. “My partner left me! Said I was too red!” The lunar eclipse cried. “That mongoose with an olm’s face left me for a white crescent moon! He left me with these blue stars to raise all on my own!” She pitied the betrayed eclipse. After finding inspiration, she learned that Day abandoned the eclipse. Day was all take and no give.  Woman and Birds, by Joan Miró (Spain) 1940 Whining To The Moon: She wailed her woes at the pale moon in the dusty dusk of summer, silencing the loudest of parrots and frightening local parasites. “Oh, Moon! Life is just so unfair! I move faster than an avalanche yet I get compared to seven snails!” “I like to move my way with patience. The same routine every month helps me reach my brightest spot.” “Your candle to another’s bonfire? That’s your basis for comparison? Are you serious?” “As serious as the sea’s most tranquil tide and the tiger waiting for its dinner.” The Moon leaves her to resume her journey. After all, the Moon may have patience, but she knows she can’t satisfy the whims of mortal women.  The Escape Ladder, by Joan Miró (Spain) 1940 The Parasite: Sadness is the dark parasite that worms its way around my veins, stinking like balsamic vinegar and choking me like raw oysters. Sadness is a smiling spider that drinks my blood like cheap Cabernet when it’s not even Saturday night. Sadness is a critical parent shaming my passions as dull distractions and I hide myself in my Tartarus. Sadness is the closest of all the stars. I never asked to be in the spotlight but she forced me to go underneath it. Will I ever escape this parasite that keeps dictating my way of life? Can this parasite untether its existence from my own? Celine Krempp Celine is a French-American artist and writer. Working part-time as a security guard in cultural institutions inspire Celine with her ekphrastic writing. Her works, written and illustrated, have been featured in The Ekphrastic Review (December 2025) and The Light Ekphrastic (February 2026). When she’s not brainstorming her next creative project, she walks her dog VanGogh, reads books, indulges in sweet cravings, and reads her favorite French comic books for the millionth time. Celine shares her artworks on her Instagram account, @ck_arts122, and projects on her Linkedin profile. |
The Ekphrastic Review
COOKIES/PRIVACY
August 2026
|