Tag Archives: Robert W. McGregor

World Poetry Celebrates Dee Hobsbawn-Smith!

Ariadne’s Notes: On April 20, 2017, 1PM on CFRO, 100.5 FM, the World Poetry Café welcomed the multitalented and powerful poetess, Dee Hobsbawn-Smith, retired chief and sustainable food advocate. Her words of advise and wisdom about food, cooking and poetry were absolutely empowering to all the listeners. She will be on tour in the coming months, including in B.C.  For a list of her tour dates: www.deehobsbawnsmith.com

Thanks to the World Poetry café Team of Ariadne Sawyer, producer and host, Anita Aguirre Nieveras , super engineer, Victor Schwartzman  special volunteer Sharon Rowe and volunteer Willow the dog. Music by Anthony Prosk (Gulf Island Suite)   and Don Amero (CD, Refined)

A must hear show for the planet : CLICK HERE!

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

Photo by Shelley Banks.

dee hobsbawn-smith’s poetry, essays, fiction and journalism has appeared in newspapers, websites, magazines, anthologies and literary journals in Canada, the USA and Scotland, including Grain, Gastronomica: The Journal of Culture and Food, The Malahat Reiview, Prairie Fire, The Antigonish Review, Vallum, CV2, Freefall and others. In 2015-16, she served as the Saskatoon Public Library’s 35th Writer in Residence. A retired chef and ex-restaurateur, she lives west of Saskatoon and earned her MFA in Writing at the University of Saskatchewan. She has published seven books. Foodshed: An Edible Albert Alphabet (Touchwood, 2012) won three international awards for its unflinching examination of the politics and challenges of small-scale sustainable food production. Her first collection of poetry, Wildness Rushing In (Hagios, 2014) was a finalist for Book of the Year and Best Poetry Collection at the Saskatchewan Book Awards. It was followed by her first short fiction collection, What Can’t Be Undone (Thistledown, 2015.) At present, she is working on her debut novel, an essay collection, and new poetry. Most recently, she has contributed to the SK poetry anthology, Line Dance (Burton Books, 2016), edited by Gerald Hill, and was part of a contingent of Canadian poets who read at The Bowery Poetry Club in New York City. www.deehobsbawnsmith.com

 

Red cedar

thirty years of your brother’s life

hanging in a cedar-lined closet under the back stairs.

~ Judith Krause, “A History of Shirts” from Mongrel Love

 

The cedar chest came from Lebanon, a gift.

In one corner, tiny clothes

I sewed for my sons.

 

Childhood never wears out.

It travels with me, that time. Before

I came to poetry, I lived it –  

 

swung high swoops on redwood swings,

small sons on lap, leaped

like a leopard over fire hydrants at their urging.

 

In the chest, purple fleece vests outgrown

before the seams could strain or fade,

jesters’ hats, laid aside when they outgrew magic.

 

I wear their vests and hats now on my morning walks,

wrap myself in my sons’  childhood,

red cedar days that never wear out.

Dee Hobsbawn-Smith (C) From her radio show published poems. All rights reserved by author.

World Poetry Celebrates Robert W. McGregor from Canada!

The World Poetry Café Radio Show welcomed the talented poet Robert W. McGregor on the air in a unique interview full of good poetry and music. Robert read his poem: I’m Just A Little Boy’ about a little boy from Aleepo , Syria which received many favorable responses when it was read as an e-poem a few weeks before. He read a number of exceptional poems and talked about his life and vision.

To hear this great show! CLICK HERE!

Since it was fundraising time for our show, Robert also became a member and helped pitch on the air. We need $1,000 per year to keep our show on the air. We are all volunteers and the World Poetry Café will be celebrating its 21st year. If anyone wants to become a member or at an international level , become a donner, you can go to www. coopradio .org and click on membership. Please put in the name of the World Poetry Café so the money will go to our account.

 Also featured on the show, great  e-poets from India and Nigeria: 

Dr. Reshma Ramesh is a dental surgeon by profession and has been writing poetry since 2008 and is a noted voice in  Bangalore. Her beautiful poem The Mountains Have a Memory captures the essence of mountains.

The second e-poem  APEKE XII on love comes from: Timileyin Gabriel Olajuwon. He is a international multi award winner, World  Poetry Ambassador to Nigeria and a director with a new book coming out.

The dedicated World Poetry Café Team: Ariadne Sawyer, Producer and host, co-host Anita Aguirre Nieveras, Super Tech Victor Schwartzman and special volunteer Sharon Rowe with dog, Willow.

 

Robert writes:

“If possible I prefer to be introduced as Robert W. McGregor as there are too many notable Rob McGregor’s…

I am proud of my given names, Robert after my grand father, and great grand father the W. Stands for Ward which my blessed  mother picked while watching it’s a wonderful life. ( late actor Ward Bond).

I am happily married for 9 years to my wife Laurie who is vey supportive of my writing efforts,  I have two natural and four step children and will soon celebrate the birth of my 9th grand child.

Born and raised in South Vancouver, graduated from David Thompson Secondary.

I have been writing poetry since grade 4 but other then special occasions like anniversaries, weddings or tributes at funerals my poems have been for my private consumption.

A chance meeting with writer friend/ Neall Ryon has opened up my eyes to the world of poetry and created a desire to share it with the rest of the world.

I am currently working on my first book with the working title “Looking Through the Kaleidoscope” , The  Mended Broken Thoughts and writings of Robert W. McGregor

My favourite writers and influences are Lord Alfred Tennyson, Mark Twain, and  Og Mandino.

As for poems, since this a broadcast that goes to other countries it would be a privilege to recite the attached poem:

” I’m Just A Little Boy’, which was written by me after seeing the very tragic picture of a the little boy from Aleppo Syria sitting in the back of an ambulance.

The picture haunted me for days until I awoke one night at around 3 am and wrote this poem.


 I’m Just A Little Boy

(Dedicated to all of the children in Aleppo Syria)

Why do you drop your booms?

I’m just a little boy,

Where is my Ummi and Abbi ?

Can someone please find my toy?

It’s a little red car with a missing wheel,

That was a gift from my older brother,

I want it now to think of him,

Have you found my Father and Mother?

Perhaps they are with my brother and sister,

Who I no longer see around,

I saw them last laughing and playing in the yard,

Just before I heard the very loud sound.

It happens almost everyday,,

It seems no one can tell me why,

I ask you now maybe you know,

Why are these booms falling from the sky

I can not feel my face right now, I can not see too far,

It’s hard to hear you from the ringing,

Did someone finally find my car?

Please look real hard for it,

As it helps me sleep at night,

I promise not to lose it again ,

I promise to hold it really really tight.

If you see my Ummi and Abbi ,

please don’t tell them I dropped it on the floor,

I don’t want them to worry about it,

Please just one more look and I won’t ask you anymore?

Really where did you find it?

You say you found it in my Ummi’s hand?

Can you please bring her here so I can hug her,

No I will run to her ,help me up so I can stand.

What do you mean she is gone?

Why would she leave me here all alone?

Where could she possibly go?

This is our only home.

I understand now she is with the others,

No real need for me to feel gloom,

Perhaps I can join them next time,

When the sky drops another boom.

Robert W. McGregor, August /2016. All rights Reserved by the author. (C)

 

 

World Poetry Celebrates Elaine Woo!

Ariadne’s notes: An enchanting afternoon with a dragon, Zeus  and the Monkey King invited and presented by the talented poet Elaine Woo. The World Poetry Team of Ariadne Sawyer, host and producer, co-host Neall Ryon, super engineer Victor Schwartzman  and special volunteer Sharon Rowe welcomed her on the World Poetry Café Radio Show, 100.5 FM from 1-2 pm PST. Featured with a moving  e-poem about a young boy from Aleppo was Robert W. McGregor  and two poems from Kevin Morris from England. A tribute to Nadine Sims by Sharon Rowe was also included and will be read at Nadine’s Celebration of Life.

To HEAR THE SHOW CLICK HERE!


 

 

 

 

 

  • Photo with scarf presented by a poet on tour from India. Each sequin represents a World Poet, she says.

Elaine Woo is the author of the poetry collection, Cycling with the Dragon, Nightwood Editions, 2014.  Her work is featured in journals in Canada, the US, the U.K., France, and Hong Kong.  A new manuscript is currently in progress about human foibles, featuring bumbling mortals, including herself, the Classical Greek gods, and the Monkey King of Chinese mythology in fictitious exploits. To order her book, Cycling with the Dragon, go to http://www.nightwoodeditions.com/?page_id=842

This poem is from her upcoming  book:

“Precariously oof loping oof, an oyster oof coating intruding nuggets of conscience, oof the Monkey King scuffed, rippled, scraped, scratched his rough chest and crown; under arched eyebrows of dust, oof to bring order his kingdom in a cave. Why vacillate so much between resentment and hatred?

Sure, Sister-Monkey hid his stash of armor for 20 years with one of the Sea Kings. Oof-oof-oof. Okay, so she selfishly and arrogantly prevented him from invading a neighbouring mountain. He deserved pearls of respect not this goading reminder. He should demote her to cave janitor.
Oof-oof-ooooooful
Through Monkey ’s slow combustion, the haze of memory emerged: an intruder threatened their kingdom, Mountain Garden of the Waterfall Cave. His habit of feeding the shark of disdain with bloody morsels, meant he didn’t bother his sister with news of the incoming invasion. She suffered owwwf gross injuries.

Beneath his fingernails, blood burst forth where he dug the hardest owwwwwh….
Upsetting his teacup, he stretched his occasionally 6-foot forearm to pluck his mobile phone from its reclining spot by the chopping board. Dialing, he realized he needed her was sucked by an undertow of gratitude.

This time memory kicked his butt: when stricken with the overreach of greed, and avarice, she bowed low offered him solace of a hundred fanning female monkeys to cool his red ember brow.”

Elaine Woo (C) All rights reserved.