lywlyw

WordPress allows me to subscribe to one artist’s journey the way traditional forms of publishing never did.   I am always comparing, because I am still always amazed, at how different the literary world is from just twenty years ago. Today, I launch two new poetry videos on the lyw YouTube channel, because a WordPress poet and artist allowed me to play with some of the work on her site which I had admired. SB is a poet and artist on WordPress at Sabiscuit.wordpress.com.  You’d think that I would be less interested in making a video of poetry that was not my own.  It’s actually a very creative and engaging process to make the

Making poetry part of our daily exercise can be as compelling as HIIT (High Intensity Interval Training) workouts.  Obviously, working different muscle groups but, I swear, the same burn can be there.  It can last a lot longer, too. HIIT training workouts have become a popular fitness trend because they provide quick bursts of physical activity and adrenaline with optimal results in a short amount of time. What are the terms that we hear with HIIT training?  Fire, heat, burn.  It hurts.  And people like that.  It seems an obvious answer to an urban lifestyle that can often numb the senses and one’s vitality. In this modern society, the

Though this is not the easiest type of poetry for the modern reader, this video attempts to prove that sometimes it’s fun to get ‘lost in the translation’ be that from the ancient languages that much of this poetry comes from or due to the cultural and literary differences between that long, long time ago and our current day. stone sculpture by Unknown – Jastrow (2007) * I suspect that the term, ‘lost in translation’, must have been born from the study of our ancient poets because the richness and beauty of their epic poems is often dependent on the strength of the translations. I have found when reading s

runner boils the lungs and heart   in her own blood   making a funny pot of lyw   to burst her lid and hit the sun in his curious head with the whistle-blowing steam of her hot, carbon efforts claiming her place as part of everything under the sighing breath of the vaulting sky; the pleasure of being small running in circles is called endurance training here training a clarity of mind   that makes children, pets and wild squirrels stop and wonder   as she blows by runner should stir with fire this inedible pot of stew under and over the privilege   of running in a beautiful park where heaven and earth attend her butterflies

this rock wears a wild crown of mossy brown inappropriate humour guardian to a treasure of immoveable and cantankerous will a rock who slowly taught himself swiftness because he values the exchange of those who like to fight this rock is the density of all movement;   a tightly packed northward caravan   on a long journey from his   island youth and Caliban dreams taking many turns at the giant urban wheel while never missing a chance to spread his rough royalty   under its paved path so what has moved this formidable rock to find a river oasis when the granite and gravel should suit him better? why does this rock take   flo

the symbol of our romantic garden bench continues to grow leaf and branch dreams of great hoary trees and the happiest way of getting old for, after all we are living work if not living art the reality of our love   has been in a dusty and sweaty craft hammering out these past few years like a pair of lame gods because the pictures and poetry to which we aspire are crude tools for shaping the rough wood of our skins; tempering the rust in our veins no brush or pen   could make the frame needed to bear the fat and bone of our irregular bottoms beauty and imagination alone could not fathom the plot needed to hold but not im

she went looking and found herself surrounded   by a winding path leading deeply into the trunk of a familiar old tree   finding there the grand opening   of a dark and wonky retreat mud baths to be had in the bubbling swamps yoga classes in the morning   by the active volcanoes   and a seat in the clouds if she can find one traveller who travels less finds herself travelling in strange country an uninsurable trip to be sure led by a dubious guide who encourages her   to consider the gaping mouths of the wild beasts of the land for what wisdom they speak weather the storms of fire, wind and water for her circulation and clari