Published since 2002, an Ocean and Pounds publication
Caffeine Reveries
by Shelley Savor
Leaving The City
Aotearoa
by Madeleine Slavick 思樂維
one leaf, one
moment kotahi ake te rau, kotahi
ake te wā
Poem a Week
by Gary Michael Dault
The Garden in July
when needed
there is blooming
not a lot
as in May
a nonchalance
of flower now
enough
intermittent
spectacle
to keep
you
looking
CHEEZ
by Fiona Smyth
DOUBLE DOUBLE issue 0611-2021
View Current Issue
https://oceanpounds.com/blogs/doubledouble/0611-2021
CONTENTS:
1. NIGHT OWL SONATA (in one movement), written by Holly Lee
2. the morning after, a prose-poem (in 38 photographs) by Lee Ka-sing
From the Notebooks (2010-2021)
by Gary Michael Dault
From the Notebooks, 2010-2021.
Number 89: Pigeon Study, January 24, 2018.
Travelling Palm Snapshots
by Tamara Chatterjee
(India – March, 1998) We woke up super early to catch a ride up to Tiger Hill before sunrise for a view of both Mount Everest and K2. I don't I had ever been so cold in my life, despite growing up in Canada. Darjeeling's humidity is due the elevation of the clouds, which meant being chilly in addition to sticky. On our way back down from a gloomy morning and minimal views of the majestic mountain ranges, we chanced upon a boisterous group of children on their way to school.
The Photograph
coordinated by Kamelia Pezeshki
Untitled, Lahijan, Iran by Sasan Golbostani
ProTesT
by Cem Turgay
Some Trees
by Malgorzata Wolak Dault
Number 78
A tree, burdened by age, becomes a vessel vital with knowledge of things past.
Greenwood
by Kai Chan
Spring Drawing 6, 2021 Watercolour on paper
Leaving Taichung Station
by Bob Black
Song for Tinderbox
“...may we not be strangers in the lush province of joy”― Charles Wright
I
We are born with phosphorous in our throats:
Scrimshawed on our bones
From the moment air set flame to our lungs
As our tongues approached voice and met the first crack of light,
The combustion of soul allowed,
Once the opening of our mother’s womb had been breached
Our son the click of tin against wood
The langue and league of life
A child’s first sentence swells as a song for a tinderbox and arced into light.
Do you celebrate this sound on the anniversary of your birth?
Open your eyes and tear the night down
II
Uncover yourself an instrument and caress it with a match
Or the knowledge of your fingertips passed
Your heart a disease of incandescence
The voice a dictionary of incendiary truths.
Listen to the eruption of the match bead struck singularly
This fable of your life—
Geography still long stained on your fingers
From a worn map veined colorful by countries and silhouetted by dreams.
Taste the ink married to your tongue
The kindred fruit epicurean of your touch
Even after it has passed through warm rivers and memory.
Do you celebrate this sound on the anniversary of your birth?
In the light, there is always strength stringing from the shadows.
III
You were born applied by this calculus
Savor it, as the warmth of a palm teaching you skin its alphabet
As the brush of wind lingers through the spine of a tree,
While the cicada’s shell falls like your mother’s hair into your small, tender hairs,
As you ran laughing through summer’s breeze.
So too your name,
The hymn scratched on air and set later by machine and ink pressed to page
Do you celebrate this sound on the anniversary of your birth?
What once flowered, spread wide petal by petal as a kite in the green air, survives
the dragon’s dragging the sky behind.
IV
Between the editing of soft blue rain on the anniversary of your birth,
Allow the moment its agile grace
And the glycerin in your throat to pass, almost absent, as a kiss
The belly of a dropped pouches of rain attaches itself to your heart
Like candled sleep, the punch in the night
To even the lightest fragility of the country of a face, forgotten.
Do you celebrate this sound on the anniversary of your birth?
The untangled tangled knot of the taste left inside you after her tooth marks
As meteoritic trace.
A fingered tinderbox left small explosions along your spine,
The more permanent tattoo
Charting an adagio rondo pattern —given your ineffable place.
Your ineffable name
Celebrate this carving on your anniversary,
When life entered you and born up each of us from your spreading
Warmed by others’ lyric caressed slowly and ballooned from recognition
Forgiven as the wine banned from that inherited place of tomb and temple
Ripening.
Do you celebrate this sound on the anniversary of your birth?
V
The ghost scribbling songs in the back of your heart and throat
Rivering through death toward life in the blink of an eye.
Do you celebrate this, ever?
for: Dima, Brandon and Nate Black
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.
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50 Gladstone Ave, Toronto
416.535.6957
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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
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