Beyond Comprehension

Absolutely inspiring. Scott Thomas Outlar at his greatest here.

17numa

Love is a spasmodic explosion
Love is a tidal wave of passion
Love is a womb bursting open
Love is a scream across the void
Love is an aching in the bones
Love is a fire deep in the marrow
Love is an agony without satiation
Love is the electric pulse of skin friction
Love is the tip of the tongue tasting center
Love is hot flesh pressed tightly against hot flesh
Love is a stain found between bedsheets
Love is a wild dance in the midnight hour
Love is the first sip of wine in a new day
Love is the seed shooting out its first sprout
Love is the dirt into which roots burrow
Love is the evolutionary fervor of mutating genes
Love is the unstoppable swarm of progressive adaptation
Love is a widow weeping in despair
Love is the sorrow of existential desolation
Love is the pain…

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KNOT Magazine includes poems by María C. Domínguez and many more.

Fall Issue of KNOT Magazine is out now, exploding with art.

Includes three poems by María C. Domínguez and many other talented poets, such as Matt Duggan. A mind-opening interview with Profesor David Crystal by Editor Rachid Filali. And three fantastic reviews by Editor Kristen D. Scott who together with her team makes this exciting and eclectic magazine possible.

Knot Magazine allows us to share a multitude of insight which incites us to unite and celebrate diversity through literature and art, as it rightly points out.

What an ambitious plan and how greatly this is achieved!

To spur you on, here you have a taster or a “teaser”.

 Raw meat  by Maria C. Dominguez.

Francis Bacon: Important Paintings from The Estate New York, Tony Shafrazi Gallery, 1998

he walked out one night

unbuttoned the space

he had bled into

black cap sack anorak

collection of lies and automatic   

inside he meant to go naked

but just one day

after his………..

Poetry of María C. Dominguez in the fall edition of Harbinger Asylum

Harbinger Asylum was nominated  poetry magazine of the year 2013 by the National Poetry Awards.

Harbinger Asylum is Transcendent Zero Press’s literary journal.

Not only does  this edition of Houston’s Harbinger Asylum include a poem by María C. Domínguez called “Last Summer”, but also  features a Nigerian poet, hosts a group of poems by Lyn Lifshin, and includes a tribute section to recently lost poet Marcie Eanes. This is truly a unique collection of poetry, and its cover is a treasured piece by Bill Wolak called “Wherever Desire Deepens”.

The Editor of Harbinger Asylum comments: “I like the sparse way María Castro Domínguez uses language and leaves bridges between herself and the reader”.

You can buy a copy at a very reasonable price in Amazon. Not to be missed.

“Ezra Pound’s Posthumous Cantos” edited by Massimo Bacigalupo out now!

This is the second or third time or fourth time…ehem  this year I confess I will break my promise not to buy any new books until I finish the old ones.

It seems that every time I browse around Carcanet´s page or receive their newsletter I just can´t help but be tempted. Their books of modern and classic poetry in English and in translation, as well as their range of inventive fiction, Lives and Letters and literary criticism is quite outstanding.

But their last addition, “Ezra Pound’s Posthumous Cantos” edited by Massimo Bacigalupo, is really beyond me or beyond my capacity to resist. Everyone who knows my poetic tastes knows I have a weakness for Imagist poetry. Ever since I found that second-hand copy of “Imagist Poetry” introduced and edited by Peter Jones and published by Penguin, there has been no turning back.

Ezra Pound in Paris

It was a sort of epiphanic moment and ever since their, The Imagists´, poetry has accompanied my writing, refocusing my creative view and sharing my work space. So here you have me, yet again unable to resist this irresistible book falling into the thralls of temptation again. And maybe even inciting my fellow poets to follow me.

Before I add an extract from Carcanet´s newsletter, which they have kindly allowed me to do, I would like to introduce just a brief paragraph on what William Carlos Williams had to say about his friend Ez, as he sometimes called him.

“Ezra never explained or joked about his writing as I might have done, but was always cryptic, unwavering and serious in his attitude toward it. He joked crudely, about anything but that. I was fascinated by the man. He was the livest, most intelligent  and unexplainable thing I´d ever seen, and the most fun…….” (The Autobiography of William Carlos Williams).

Ezra Pound’s Posthumous Cantos collects unpublished pages of his great poem, drawn from manuscripts held in the archive at Yale’s Beinecke Library and elsewhere. They are assembled by Pound’s Italian translator, the critic and scholar Massimo Bacigalupo, into a companion book to the Cantos, running from 1917 to 1972 and including the Cantos he wrote in Italian in 1944-5. An Italian edition was published in 2002 and revised in 2012. This is the first English edition of a crucial part of the Pound canon. Posthumous Cantos is arranged to reflect the eight phases of the Cantos’ composition. Pound’s writing suffered the consequences of the turbulent history of his century. World War I left the cultural world he came to Europe for in ruins; and the aftermath of the World War II in which he took a contrary side, made his work, like his life, discontinuous, a sequence of brilliant moments and profound ruptures.

Posthumous Cantos by Ezra Pound is available to order with 10% discount and free UK P &P from www.carcanet.co.uk

Here´s a taster:

Yet from my tomb such flame of love arise

that whoso passes shall be warmed thereby;

let stray cats curl there

where no tomb stone is

& girls’ eyes sparkle, at the unmarked spot

let rancours wane

& a slow drowse of peace pervade who passes.

Extract from ‘VI, Pisa, 1945’, from Posthumous Cantos by Ezra Pound, released this month by Carcanet Press

What a way to celebrate National Poetry Day with John Cooper Clarke´s poem

The coast is so important to us islanders, it gives us memories, inspires and revives us.
Represents our beginnings and ends.
Is part of our hereditary mindscape.
Bearing this in mind I couldn´t help but recieve John Cooper Clarke´s film-poem as a enlightening way to celebrate National Poetry Day today.

Now in Issue 3 of Of/with: Journal of immanent renditions, “Homecoming” by María Castro Domínguez

New poem “Homecoming” by María Castro domínguez now in Issue 3 of Of/with

New poem “Homecoming” by María Castro Domínguez out now in Issue 3 of Of/with: Journal of immanent renditions.

Also you can find Matt Duggan and Scott Thomas Outlar and many more brilliant artists. An issue bursting with new creativity.

Of/with is an online literary journal connecting various artistic endeavors into a biannual publication.  They actively pursue artists whose work is a function of naturalized, immanent inclination, and celebrate the art that communicates the nisus and functionality of the artists’ established desire to communicate their renditions.  Their  hope is to become a publication of aggregated brilliance, showcasing artistry that exists outside of conventional and expected artistic interpretations.

Canto III BY EZRA POUND

Canto III appeared in the July, 1917 issue of Poetry. Originally part of what scholars call the “Ur-Cantos,” this version of Canto III was later edited by Pound to become Canto I of his collected Cantos.

Canto III             

BY EZRA POUND

I sat on the Dogana’s steps
For the gondolas cost too much, that year,
And there were not “those girls”, there was one face,
And the Buccentoro twenty yards off, howling, “Stretti”,
And the lit cross-beams, that year, in the Morosini,
And peacocks in Koré’s house, or there may have been.
              Gods float in the azure air,
Bright gods and Tuscan, back before dew was shed.
Light: and the first light, before ever dew was fallen.
Panisks, and from the oak, dryas,
And from the apple, mælid,
Through all the wood, and the leaves are full of voices,
A-whisper, and the clouds bowe over the lake,
And there are gods upon them,
And in the water, the almond-white swimmers,
The silvery water glazes the upturned nipple,
                As Poggio has remarked.
Green veins in the turquoise,
Or, the gray steps lead up under the cedars.
My Cid rode up to Burgos,
Up to the studded gate between two towers,
Beat with his lance butt, and the child came out,
Una niña de nueve años,
To the little gallery over the gate, between the towers,
Reading the writ, voce tinnula:
That no man speak to, feed, help Ruy Diaz,
On pain to have his heart out, set on a pike spike
And both his eyes torn out, and all his goods sequestered,
“And here, Myo Cid, are the seals,
The big seal and the writing.”
And he came down from Bivar, Myo Cid,
With no hawks left there on their perches,
And no clothes there in the presses,
And left his trunk with Raquel and Vidas,
That big box of sand, with the pawn-brokers,
To get pay for his menie;
Breaking his way to Valencia.
Ignez de Castro murdered, and a wall
Here stripped, here made to stand.
Drear waste, the pigment flakes from the stone,
Or plaster flakes, Mantegna painted the wall.
Silk tatters, “Nec Spe Nec Metu.”

Ezra Pound, “Canto III” from The Cantos of Ezra Pound. Copyright © 1993 by Ezra Pound. Reprinted by permission of New Directions Publishing Corporation.