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Transcript

Poetry on Tape 13.6.25

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The show must go on! This episode comes from Slovakia where I am on my expedition for the Bloody Sonnets. But that does not stop me from sharing amazing substack poets.

We started off reading a poem by Janko Kráľ, a Slovak poet who was translated by John Minahane (same translator as the Bloody Sonnets).

Then we read

’s haikus:

Arthouse Poetry
Autumn Snow Haikus
Autumn Snow…
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Even the title, “Autumn Snow” and the fact this is being released in June is very haiku like.

The Dead Drop Dedication this week came

with:

Stephanie’s Poetic Trance
The Pillar of Salt
THE PILLAR OF SALT Driving away from the scene Nothing is left I look back over my shoulder And am transformed into a pillar of salt, Forever petrified, eyes fixed, I stand as a warning Of the lethality of past catastrophe The inescapable urge to look again At another place and time. The women, the setting sun, The …
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Like the title it has some very nice lines that feel powerful enough to be etched in marble.

came next with:

The Great Beyond
House of Shedded Skin
This place is no prison, it is a mirror without ripples. Builders of old left their skin behind when they disappeared into the grey. But nought new can be made from it. Those born into their crumbled flesh learn to adorn the crypts of their own body. This place is no prison, it is a quicksand beyond time. Incredible, how each touch on the walls leav…
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We have to ask Bence what “new” is in Magyar because I feel his is innovating with the ghazal form in a very nice way.

Then we had a nice nature poem by

:

Fleeting Meditations
Wildfires
The smoke of summer A familiar haze A harbinger of change Signaled only When the red sun rises While the forest stirs Embers flutter Like fireflies Catching, growing Beginning the cycle Centuries gone Fallen on the forest floor Crackling, eaten, consumed Until it stops at the break That divides life and death And soon, silence Rot has been cleansed…
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Which is of course sadly familiar to anyone in the American West.

followed up with:

Ray Diess Writes
Daedalus Drinking
Children slough slowly off, time going all manic and sharp — “fifteen minutes used to be a lot!” the mirror eroding down to the father. Yet the star is still burning, through quiet sirens watching, lighting silvery on the ship. “Maybe,” they whisper. “Maybe not…
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which has some very nice lines and images.

And finally

closed it out with:

Ruminations of a Form
just a taste
when normal matter jiggles the auditory spectrum clarifies it undulates from when the stomach processes the sum in spatial relevance as temporal inconveniences let down and go ceiling whirl to wall twirl of systematic motor neurons feast and lay live and be but breathe to melt By: Trevor Kuether…
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which has a very nice McLuhan take on audio. Have a nice weekend everyone and next week we will continue as well, but I will have a similar audio setup as this week.

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