The Dialogue of Two Snails, by Federico García Lorca, translated by Tyler Fisher — ANZ LitLovers LitBlog

It’s Spanish Lit month over at Winston’s Dad, so it’s time to venture into the work of the avant-garde poet Federico García Lorca (1898-1936).  I have been meaning to do this ever since I went to Spain, but it’s only recently that I discovered that the Penguin Moderns include a collection of his poetry, dialogues, […]

The Dialogue of Two Snails, by Federico García Lorca, translated by Tyler Fisher — ANZ LitLovers LitBlog

Top ten songs with the Motorik beat

Sick Mouthy

I don’t remember when I first heard the ‘motorik’ beat – it’s one of those things that feels as if you’ve always known it. Over the last few weeks, having been listening to a lot of Bowie’s Berlin period, and reading Hugo Wilcken’s book on Low, I’ve been thinking about it a lot, revisiting favourite songs and albums that utilise it, from the progenitors like Neu! to latter day pretenders like The Horrors, and discovering new examples of it.

To clarify, the motorik beat goes like this:

Beat	1	+	2	+	3	+	4	+
Hi-hat	x	x	x	x	x	x	x	x
Snare	–	–	x	–	–	–	x	–
Kick	x	x	–	x	x	x	–	x

If that doesn’t quite make sense, then think of it as dum-dum-dum-tsh-dum-dum-dum-tsh-dum-dum-dum-tsh-dum-dum-dum-tsh in perfect 4/4 time forever and ever.

An ILM thread has…

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NO FEE submission call + editor interview – Poetry Super Highway, DEADLINE: Always Open

Trish Hopkinson

Poetry Super Highway is a an online publication and resource for poets and writers. They publish two feature poets each week and host an online broadcast once a month in a poetry open mic format. You can call in and read your poetry live and hear other great poets, along with spoken word recordings, and related poetry announcements. They also run annual special projects, including The Great Poetry Exchange, poetry contest, prompt a day for poetry month, and more.

I was curious how and why this poetry site and community began, so I asked founder Rick Lupert a few questions to find out. See my interview with Lupert and a link to submission guidelines below.

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HOPKINSON: Tell me a little bit about Poetry Super Highway.

LUPERT: Poetry Super Highway is one of the oldest poetry websites. The name is a play on information superhighway, an early term used to…

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Jólakötturinn – The Icelandic Yule Cat

My So Called Christmas Life

I’m back good people. Did anyone miss me? Well…miss me or not,here I am! Today we’ll discuss Jólakötturinn, the Icelandic Yule cat. Okay…so I haven’t the slightest idea how to pronounce that but I’m sure one of my 3 followers will. No? No Icelandic followers? Just two bots and my mom? I guess I will just refer to him/her/it as “the Icelandic Yule Cat or YC”.

YC is bigger than a house but is said to quietly prowl the dark streets and peer into windows on Christmas Eve. It will eat those that did not receive new clothes. Seems reasonable that this happens and that no one tries to kill it. I can just imagine the people of Iceland seeing this huge beast and then scurrying off while looking at the ground, pretending not to notice it eating a child or knocking over things with it’s large tail. Nothing to see…

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10 Revision Ideas for National Poetry Revision Month – guest blog post rewind by Diane Lockward #NaPoWriMo

Trish Hopkinson

I’m posting here the Craft Tip I contributed to my craft book, The Crafty Poet II: A Portable Workshop. You might find it helpful as you work on new poems this month. You might also find it useful for working on poems you wrote months, or even years, ago. Enjoy! And prosper!

Craft Tip #29: Making More of Revision

During revision discussions, we poets hear a lot about compression, reducing clutter, and cutting out the non-essential. Who hasn’t sat in a poetry class or workshop and been told that less is more? So when someone tells us to add more, to expand, to keep going, we might be hesitant to pay attention.

But we should pay attention. The less-is-more principle is often good advice, but it’s not always good advice. As I once heard Mark Doty say, Sometimes more is more.

Too often we start revising and hacking…

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New Music of the Day – CLXXIV: Fill Me Up – Amilia K Spicer

Dancing About Architecture

If the term “Americana” conjures clichéd images of long, dusty highways, clapboard churches and hoedowns in truck stop bars, then you need Amilia K Spicer in your ears…and indeed your life! Whilst blending the heartland sounds of America – lilting country grooves, folky acoustica and a gentle but persistently driving rock beat – there is another, less tangible quality at work, one that breezes through the spaces between, one that is built from more elemental and primal qualities.

Yes, you can boogie the night away to the song’s jaunty goodness but as the video visualises, this is music that communes with nature that wallows in the fact that America may be a young country in respect of its society but its land is ancient.

They say that every place, every wood, every hill, every stream has a song in it if only you are silent and respectful enough to be…

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How to Be Your Own Best Poetry Editor – guest blog post by Lisa Young

Trish Hopkinson

Sometimes you get to a certain point and you just don’t know what to do with a poem. You might have many drafts and you don’t know what’s working anymore. You’ve lost perspective. And on top of that, maybe you’re surrounded by a whole bunch of other discarded poems that aren’t working either and you’re getting different critiques and you don’t know who to believe and you’ve kind of lost your mind.

I’m going to give you an exercise to help you deal with that situation.

Many people say one of the best ways to deepen your craft is to read in your genre, so in this case, go out there and read poetry. But I’m going to make it a little more specific in order to help you be your own best poetry editor.

Exercise: Read three different literary magazines and find a poem in each one of them that…

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Festive Haggis Recipes for your Christmas Feast

Haggis UK

Fancy adding some Scottish spice to Christmas Day? Here are some traditional and more innovative takes on festive haggis dishes, complete with links to recipes and famed Scottish foods that will work a treat around the turkey.

 

Haggis sausage rolls are a greater winter warmer, and work well as canapes on Christmas Day.

Vegetarian Haggis and Mustard Bites

Whip up these dinky morsels created by Jacqueline Meldrum and serve them as canapes with your pre-dinner drinks. All you need is haggis, puff pastry, and wholegrain mustard (perhaps with added whisky to add a little zip)

Serve with a malt and redcurrant dipping sauce.

 

Turkey with haggis stuffing by Delicious Magazine

Haggis Stuffed Turkey

Combine good quality haggis with apple, sage and fresh breadcrumbs to add rich earthy flavours to your Christmas roast.

 

Warm Vegetarian Haggis Salad
This warm vegetarian salad is a fresh and flavoursome alternative…

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Check out the Petrichor

Home

Here’s what’s written on their Home Page. I like them.

Our poetics

We at petrichor welcome established writers, newbies, outsiders, and all points in between. Ours is a free and open archive, seeking to promote bold identities, othered voices, and whispers in the darkness that want to be loud. We encourage work that makes us think, feel, and even go “huh?” We like surprises.

When words aren’t enough, we like work that incorporates visual elements into textual frames. The letter as a symbol, the word as a sign, we love these as well.

Looking for references or maybe kindred spirits? Check out our Kinfolk tab to see who we love.

Estorninos

Un domingo, me froté el sueño de los ojos moriscos, me eché la ropa y los zapatos, el desayuno cocinado: huevos de papas con chorizo, tostadas y té de yerba caliente. Sin jugo de naranja, pero me desperté con este viejo himno pegado en mi cabeza.

Would you be free from
the burden of sin? There’s pow’r
in the blood. Power…

Estorninos Un domingo, me froté el sueño de los ojos moriscos, me eché la ropa y los zapatos, el desayuno cocinado: huevos de papas con chorizo, tostadas y té de yerba caliente. Sin jugo de naranja, pero me desperté con este viejo himno pegado en mi cabeza. Mirando el cielo por la ventana de la cocina, observé estorninos, muchos estorninos; Oh, tantos estorninos posados ​​en cables eléctricos de nuevo. Después de quemar mi labio en el té, pasé muchos minutos imaginando un montón de razones por las que las aves podían posarse en líneas como esa. Oklahoma tenía árboles perfectamente bien. Sin embargo, estos estorninos recogieron cables para todos sus asientos alineados en toda la ciudad. ¿Por qué hicieron eso? Solo me decidí por esto: estas aves anhelaban, como yo, un lugar seguro para sentarse cerca del poder. No hay energía en los cables; Eso sería ridículo. Les gustaba el poder en solidaridad.

Would you be whiter,
much whiter than snow? There’s pow’r
in the blood. Power…

Así que me propuse asistir a una iglesia, por qué no. Al llegar demasiado pronto para el gran servicio, un diácono me entregó una etiqueta con el nombre y luego me dirigió hacia algo llamado un grupo de adultos para el debate, el tema: la frontera mexicana. Sin estar preparado, escuché al líder de la discusión ya las otras personas reunidas allí. La charla fue que solo hay un idioma: el inglés. No lo sabía, pero sí, sí, sí! Y, “Los restaurantes están bien”, dijo un hombre, “pero los mexicanos deben irse”. Fue una emergencia.

Would you be whiter,
much whiter than snow? There’s pow’r
in the blood. Power…

Pasé mis ojos por los rostros evangélicos de las personas en los bancos. Todos tuvieron la oportunidad de hablar su inglés. Nadie hablaba francés, alemán, chino ni ninguno de los otros idiomas que podrían haber tenido. Fue un evento único en inglés. Me pasé una mano por la frente y luego por el pelo. Entiendo; sin embargo, no lo hice, pájaros de una pluma, supongo, solo en una jaula. Mi mente se escapó por un momento; Los pensamientos simplemente salieron volando y aterrizaron en un lugar diferente en mi cabeza. Una vez allí, me conté en silencio la historia de mi madre y cómo, durante las últimas oleadas de deportaciones de Eisenhower, mi padre apalache se casó con ella y la trajo a los Estados Unidos. 

Sin-stains are lost in
its life-giving flow; There’s won-
derful pow’r in the…

Nunca volví a esa Iglesia desde la charla del líder de discusión. No lo quiero. Por lo que valía, todavía me levantaba temprano los domingos, me vestía, preparaba el desayuno y miraba por la ventana el clima donde de vez en cuando veía a los estorninos posados ​​con electricidad. Un ave volaba, se lanzaba en redondo, recogía algo en el suelo, miraba a su alrededor y luego volaba de nuevo para sentarse con los amigos sobre los cables. Envidiaba a esos estorninos alineados en líneas eléctricas con todo su poder. Pero yo, solo desayunaba y luego me relajaba en el sofá con un control remoto hojeando los canales de cable. Luego, otros domingos, me dirigía a la casa de mi madre, donde nos sentábamos a ver los programas en Telemundo TV.

There is pow’r, pow’r, won-
der-working pow’r in the
precious blood of the…