JEFF SEFFINGA

Karen’s Awakening

As if it had always been here for you,
the sun is stepping forth
to stroke your world with fingers of easy light,
beams that seem too fragile
to hold up fragments of cloud.
Sparrows chatter on the eavestroughs.
The robin on the lawn tugs
no worm but your attention out of your mind
while the heart now beats,
forcing blood to flow to corners
that have need of it.
The familiar rhythm of the rise
and fall of your chest as your lungs breathe
is a miracle
to be examined with awe.

Today your body needs no supervision,
no careful involvement of the mind
to maintain independent
functions against external and internal faults.
This morning shall not overwhelm you
with the thicknesses of light-consuming cloud.
The concentrated forces of your storm
have dissipated;
they threaten you no longer.
And as your mornings fill now with light and air
the cold and weight of driving rain,
heart-stopping crack of lightning,
shall become
faint dreams of moon shadows.



Jeff Seffinga

ELEANORE KOSYDAR

Stoned

(Canada Day, Spencer Gorge)

splayed across two boulders
at the bottom of the gorge
he lay like a fallen bird,
head oddly askew
dead to the holiday world
of revellers scrambling over rocks,
bony bare chest impossibly still . . .

above water’s tumultuous
descent
anxious whispers
struggle to bridge a gap:

is he all right?
he hasn’t moved for ages!
is he breathing?

slowly
the gaunt figure
surfaces
from numbed depths,
weakly brushes haze and tangled
waist-length hair from glazed eyes,
slowly, painfully sits up
downcast head in hands

rising at last
to trembling feet
draws threadbare shirt
over haunted frame, then stumbles
along his rock-strewn
crestfallen way

outcast,
wild
as this place
of ragged beauty
where, for a while
he strayed


ELEANORE  KOSYDAR

DAVID HASKINS

I Am Not Your Man Leonard Cohen interviewed by Jian Gomeshi
16/04/2009

Before I was old, you didn’t ask me
how I felt about dying.

Now, being both old and a poet,
I ought to know.

I answer with words you don’t use -
the alliterative “can’t command the consequences”;

I want the truth to sound like me.
We are all caught in this charade of slogans.

I can’t abide glory, but glory pays the bills.
Trophy, atrophy. Rest is how the rust gets in.

Beyond the horizon everything comes together
into nothing but survival. Hallelujah.

If you fall prey to pretty virgin words
you can lie, really lie.

The teller and the tale.
Shape-shifting. Myth making.

“Get anything interesting?” I ask.
The crew want lunch.

— David Haskins

This poem was one of four that won the Leonard Cohen poetry contest run by rootsmusic.ca. It is posted on http://www.rootsmusic.ca/2012/02/07/roots-music-poetry-winners-announced/

MARTY (BEERS) MESHBERG.

On Love


Love offers itself
in purity
and without guile.
In perfect honesty
risks the sacrifice
of mind and
lays bare
the soul,
prostrates humbly
before that which
holds power
to condemn, reject and destroy.

All this
love does
for a taste of bliss-
for love itself,
returned.




Martha Meshberg
Copyright ©2002

Marty Beers Meshberg

Martha (Beers) Meshberg

My artistic expression is motivated by my deep love of nature and it's infinite beauty.  As well, my devotion to the writings of The Báb, Bahá 'u' lláh, 'Abdu'l-Bahá and the many Holy Texts of the world, inspire and deepen my work.

I am  a singer, painter, poet and musician.
In my earlier years, (1958-1972 )  I performed professionally with The "Beers Family " Traditional Singers and am now the last surviving member of the Beers Family.

I was a partner in the/Husband/Wife team (Eric and Martha Nagler from the 1970's -'77 and performed solo through the mid 1980s. I have traveled world wide on Cultural Exchange Tours, Concert Stage, Television & Radio and at Music Festivals, Schools and Universities throughout the United States, Canada, India, South America and the Caribbean Islands.

Personal Highlights: CarnegieHall, Lincoln Centre, The White House
I have recorded with Columbia Masterworks, Folk Legacy, Biograph, Philo, and Fox Hollow Productions.

Though I no longer perform, The music and many memories of the rich rewards of travel through-out the world among many cultures, is one of the motivating factors of my art and poetry. I am currently preparing a volume of poetry for publication. 

Editor's Note:  Marty currently resides in Toronto, Ontario with her husband.

ELEANORE KOSYDAR

Waken Dreamer

Sleeping, your closed eyes quiver
unaware in dream that the skies shower Earth
with love: the forest floor is now a sea of stars!

Come! Rouse yourself, walk upon
the waking land, feel the breath of heaven
with the star-struck soles of your drowsy bare feet

Eleanore Kosydar

Eleanore Kosydar
76 Maple Avenue
Dundas, ON L9H 4W4

Tel: (905) 628-9092
e-mail: emkk@cogeco.ca

Eleanore Kosydar is a poet, writer and photographer whose work has
appeared in a variety of publications and anthologies. She is author of
Moon Spirit: Love Poems of A Mated Woman (Tierceron Press, 1998)
and co-author/co-publisher with husband Richard Kosydar of two colour
photographic books about the Dundas Valley under their Tierceron imprint.

The Kosydars live in Dundas, Ontario; The Dundas Valley:

Visions of Beauty (2007) is still in print.

Eleanore has been a member of the Tower Poetry Society since 1994,
and for the past decade has been webmaster for the TPS website,
www.towerpoetry.ca.

Other interests include hiking, cycling, gardening, reading and swimming.