Tag Archives: International Peace Award Ariadne Sawyer

World Poetry Celebrates Jenna Lynn Albert!

Ariadne’s Notes: The World Poetry Café CFRO, 100.5 FM, featured a new book by Jenna Lynn Albert with her new book Bec  & Call published by Nightwood Editions on November 1-2 pm PST. Hosts Ariadne Sawyer and Diego Bastinutti , super tech Victor Swartzman and special volunteer Sharon Rowe. Also featured was  a good news update on Rahmat Haidari and a story by Sharon Rowe.

The second guest , Ayn Inserto called in from the US  at 1:30 pm PST with her brand new CD The Rabbit Hole which will be the next feature. 

LISTEN TO THE SHOW BY CLICKING HERE! 

 

 

 

 

Jenna Lyn Albert is a poet, cat enthusiast, and proud acadienne. A graduate of the University of New Brunswick’s Creative Writing program, her poetry has appeared in The Malahat Review, The Puritan, Riddle Fence,The Antigonish Review, The Temz Review and CV2. Albert lives in Fredericton, New Brunswick, where she is a member of The Fiddlehead’s editorial board and a first reader for Goose Lane Editions’ Icehouse poetry imprint. Her debut collection of poetry, Bec& Call, is out now with Nightwood Editions.

Poem:

Tongue-in-cheek

The dinner plate is white and square
like the fancy ones from restaurants,
the tablecloth white and oval and even.
There’s a small salad fork to my left
and my sister’s place is set the same,
tiny utensils for two petite minettes
with bon appetites, each of us eyeing
the up-cycled jam jars of racinette
that we can’t drink until O Captain!
My Captain! has his food served to him,
our supper following tout de suite.
Here we’re given cloth napkins, not
paper, and I hate using them because
they are white and clean and folded.
Pépère made our meal tonight: seafood,
his specialty, the potatoes and fish dish
all white, cut into bite-sized pieces
that barely stand apart from the dishes
they are heaped on. My sister and I eat
the white meat and starch, les poissons,
les poissons, hee hee hee, haw haw haw
but Pépère gets the last laugh, smile
all gums, dentures waggling, he asks
how we like our cod tongue and cheek.
Mid-mastication, we pause. Pardonne-
moi? He swish-swishes his teeth back
to their proper position, says nothing.
A muffled retch comes from my sister,
running for the salle de bain faster
than Mémère can Ostie d’calvaire,
Claude, and there’s tongue in my cheek
and cheeks on my tongue and it’s not
long before I’m kneeling with my sister
over the toilet, the tile not nearly
as comfy as the prie-dieux at church.

 Jenna Lynn Albert (C) All rights reserved.

World Poetry Celebrates Poet Yuan Hongri from China!

Ariadne’s Notes:  We are honoured to present the Chinese Poet Yuan Hongri with three poems in English and Chinese and are delighted to feature him once again. Also greetings to all our Chinese poets and writer’s in the world.

 

Bio: Hongri Yuan, born in China in 1962, is a poet and philosopher interested particularly in creation. Representative works include Platinum City, Gold City, Golden Paradise , Gold Sun and Golden Giant. His poetry has been published in the UK, USA ,India ,New Zealand, Canada and Nigeria.

Three Poems
By Chinese Poet Yuan Hongri
Translated by Manu Mangattu

The Golden Cane of Yore

Truth is beauty, true!
Though it belongs only to the eyes of the soul.
The world is but a stratified phantom city.
As me of yesterday smile at me of today
You reach instantly the garden beyond time
When your body is empty, as joyful as the diamonds,
And the universe is your biography, of past and future,
Sitting in the outer temple, that imperatorial king shall give you
A primeval cane of gold that makes rivers fragrant.
10.10.2017

让河流芬芳的太古之金杖

真实是美而唯属于灵魂之眼
这世界是重重叠叠的幻影之城
昨日之我向今日之我微笑这一刹那你在时间之外的花园
当你的身体空明若钻石欢喜宇宙是你的过去未来之传记
那至尊的王者坐在天外的圣殿赠你一枚让河流芬芳的太古之金杖
2017.10.10

Wings of Light

Each day is a dreamland;
Have you seen my golden palace in heaven?
Many an interstellar kingdom twinkle within that little room of stone.
The music of giant is honey for the soul, that gives you wings of light;
Yet you are surprised as if time had never passed,
When the one armored in diamond escort you out of the world.
8.6.2017

光芒之翼

每一个日子皆是幻境你可见我天堂的黄金之宫
是的这座石头的小屋之内烁烁诸多星际的王国
那巨人的乐曲是灵魂之蜜让你生出光芒之翼
而你讶异时光从未流逝那尘世之外的身披钻石之铠甲的自己
2017.8.6

The Fragrant Face of the Rainbow

The prehistoric days I miss.
There is sweetness in my body.
The heaven and the earth are but shadows.
Nay! It isn’t the sun that illuminates things;
My soul has great many eyes
That make tomorrow as transparent as yesterday.
Above the vault of heaven there exist
Great many giant cities of joy,
And each giant seems like another one of my own,
Dissolving my loneliness and sadness.
However, every death is a sunrise
That makes the oblivion of night bloom the asagumoes,
The fragrant face of the golden rainbow
Which makes the heavens fully drunk.
9.28.2017

那酣醉了天宇的金霓之芳容

我怀念史前的日子甜蜜在我的身体之内而天地是自己的影子
不是太阳照亮了万物而是我有巨多灵魂的眼睛让明天和昨天一样透明
在那天穹之上也有巨多欢喜的巨城那些巨人仿佛另一些自己让我不知孤单与忧愁
而每一次死亡都是一次日出让黑夜的遗忘盛开朵朵朝云那酣醉了天宇的金霓之芳容
2017.9.28

By Yuan Hongri (C) All rights reserved by the author.

 

World Poetry Celebrates The Heart of the City Festival!

 

 

 

 

Ariadne’s Notes: The World Poetry Café Radio Show was honoured to be a partner once again with the Heart of The City Festival! For our special show, we re-visited the memories  and history of Hogan’s Alley in Vancouver  and featured the well known poet Ghai  Aweida from the Thursday Club in the downtown eastside. Also e-poets Mamta Agarwal from India and Chinese poet, Chinese Poet Yuan Hongri, story by Sharon Rowe and Poetic News. Still in membership drive right now: Please become a donator or member by going to www.coopradio.org , clicking on membership at the top and contributing what you can. This will help us stay on the air.

LISTEN TO THE SHOW!

 

 

 

 

 

Ghia Aweida is a Lebanese Canadian poet of Palestinian, Syrian and Lebanese descent. She is a faithful member of Thursdays and is a self-published a number of chapbooks, a full-length poetry book, My Spiritual Journey and is published in several Thursdays anthologies, the latest anthology is From the Heart of It All.

The Heart of Art
Like an artery pulsating
in a world shun off
waiting to feed and nourish
the curious cells
far away from it
renewing energy
at the centre of its lover,
the centre of its city
giving and taking of its experiences
with another heart nearby,
spreading its love of creation
throughout the city
into its suburbs
with the newcomers
with the citizens
with other artists
with one another
with our hosts.
The city returns its tired blood
exhausted from old art
through the veins of its existence
to the heart of its creation
purify its veins
absorbing and emitting
new ideas
and drinking in fresh juices
sprinkling particles of spunk
further into the suburbs
through the capillaries
into the thumb arteries
that hold the pen
to write on the pages
telling stories of life
or the brush
to paint upon the canvasses
painting the stages of life
and creating mural after mural
filling studio and gallery walls
further nourishing the heart
willing to reach out and teach
willing to help teach its young

renewing the city
with every moment
as sweet as the music playing
as precious as the sage burning
its scent awakening the senses
in the days of its celebration.
The heart beats still
long after the festival dies down.

Ghia Aweida (C) All rights reserved by author.