0531-2021

Published on Mondays, with columns by Artists and Writers
Published since 2002, an Ocean and Pounds publication

 

 

Poem a Week
by Gary Michael Dault


STRONG SONG

 
there is a bird
outside
the house
 
it sings
a song
stronger than
the building
 
there is
no one
in the house
 
the bird's
singing
has lifted them
away
 
the bird's
glassine eye
is harder
than the windows
and doors
 
and so
the house
collapses
 
buffeted
by trilling

 

Greenwood
by Kai Chan


Spring Drawing 4, 2021 Watercolour on paper

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CHEEZ
by Fiona Smyth

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Leaving Taichung Station
by Bob Black

 



Amsterdam Song, New Year’s Day: 1994

"I want to be stretched, like music wrung from a dropped seed.
  I want to be entered and picked clean.”--Charles Wright




"Of all our games, love's play is the only one which threatens to unsettle the soul."--Marguerite Yourcenar


Life still occasions
and beneath the sky, lives bike over the ice and the hills and the North Sea
bows and names it language, your bones’ ache and falling
this cold, winter day, as the new year clicks a door stop open.

How quietly we fall from the sky:
  how like a heard of trains,
  how like a broken face with a smile the belly of rain,
  how like the shadows eyes cast on the coats of long and unlimbered limbs,
  how like lovers who pen their flesh love letters with snow on their teeth,
  how like the tales you shared with the War widow on the train running from Wierum
       beach’s splayed hair,
  how like the dying, firecrackers of gun burst, toward the cold mouth of Amsterdam,
  how like the skin separated by fingers and excavated Victorian keys,
  how like the sleep of grass, a song muscular over water,
  how like the buildings swelled with guarded light and the patter of feet,
  how like the ghosts of grammar haunting the morning with drunken forgetfulness.

How quietly we fall from the sky:
  a white pebble on the bed of green leaves, left behind from a boot stumbling,
  a blue lock dancing between a black bike over tin water, the rusted hearts gazing at
       their mirrored shadow,
  a half-moon of red lights arched and bridged over dreaming canals.

How quietly we fall from the sky.

Pick these things apart and feed them to others,
Softly,
And without breath.

Life still occasions the miraculous, our lives picked clean,
The Chronology of our meaning, spun.
Let us do the arithmetic.

Let us, spin.

 

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DOUBLE DOUBLE issue 0528-2021

View Current Issue
https://oceanpounds.com/blogs/doubledouble/0528-2021

CONTENTS: Written by Holly Lee, "The Tempestuous Life of a gallery", (LEE KA-SING gallery at Candy Factory Lofts from 2000 to 2005).



Aotearoa
by Madeleine Slavick 思樂維


The houses in this country

might walk off.
Or maybe a great wind will blow them off their plots.
Only the size they need to be,
as if less to defend, less to carry.

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From the Notebooks (2010-2021)
by Gary Michael Dault

From the Notebooks, 2010-2021.
Number 87: Blue Bulb (Nightlight), May 28, 2021

Travelling Palm Snapshots
by Tamara Chatterjee

Thailand (December, 2002) – I literally stumbled in and out of the hired tuk-tuk several times, often out of sheer excitement. As the day progressed the buddha relics grew larger and more abundant. Autthaya provided an enlightening passage of understanding and appreciation, which was very much a part of the healing process.

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Some Trees
by Malgorzata Wolak Dault


Number 76

This year my rhododendrons are more vigorous and bountiful than ever before.  Although most of them are only shrubs, some are growing into small trees.   After I wake up, I make myself a cup of black coffee and go outside to admire the sugary abundance of the big blossoms. Gary says their blossoms are like little wedding cakes.

The Photograph
coordinated by Kamelia Pezeshki



Yemen by Azadeh Saljooghi

Yemenis are generous people and Yemen is a resourceful country, bombed to pieces by Saudi-led coalition, supported by the Military Industrial Complex. This picture, and others, were taken when the war was starting. I assume by now the laypeople I met are displaced, dismembered, or killed, and most buildings, including the ones in the unique old Sana are destroyed.

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ProTesT
by Cem Turgay

 

Caffeine Reveries
by Shelley Savor


Home Away From Home

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The Raw and the Cooked, MYTHOLOGIQUES
(A column on the culture of eating and cooking)

White Chocolate Matcha Flowers
by Malgorzata Wolak Dault

Here is a pleasant little indulgence for afternoon hours with a cup of tea or coffee.  These Matcha Flowers are very tasty and take no time to prepare.  They end by looking green and festive, like tiny flower buds.

You simply need to melt a bar of a good quality white chocolate and mix with 1 tbsp. of matcha powder, 1 tsp.ground ginger and 4 tbsp of coconut flakes.  

Using a teaspoon, form small rounds of the mixture on parchment paper.  Then half 6 to 7 macadamia nuts and position one on top of each of the macha rounds.  Transfer to the fridge and chill until firm.
 

 

The Raw and the Cooked, MYTHOLOGIQUES is a new column on the culture of eating and cooking, with contributions by various authors. The column name is borrowed from the title of a book by Claude Levi-Strauss. It is spontaneous, a little amusing but serious at the same time.

 


STAY WITH ART. INDEXG B&B


(Breakfast area and small shop)

Located on the second floor of an art space, INDEXG Bed and Breakfast has 4 guest rooms, all with ensuite bathroom. Since 2008, INDEXG B&B have served curators, artists, art-admirers, collectors and professionals from different cities visiting and working in Toronto.

INDEXG B&B
50 Gladstone Ave, Toronto
416.535.6957
indexgbb.com



MONDAY ARTPOST
ISSN 1918-6991
Published on Mondays, with columns by Artists and Writers
Published since 2002, an Ocean and Pounds publication

mail@oceanpounds.com
mondayartpost.com

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