John Yamrus has been a fixture in American poetry for four decades. Since 1970 he has
published 2 novels, 17 volumes of poetry and more than 900 poems in magazines around the
world. Selections of his poetry have been translated into several languages including
Spanish, Swedish, Italian, Japanese and (most recently) Romanian. His newest book is SHOOT
THE MOON and is available online now at amazon.com.
in the spotlight
Ross McCague Canada
Our featured poem was written by Ross McCaque:
I am a teacher of English as a Second Language for Academic Purposes at Seneca College in
Toronto. I have taught ESL for 15 years and have a B.Ed. and M.Ed in that field. My first
degree was in English Literature. Since I was in my twenties, I have read widely and taken
a keen interest in modern poetry. My work is based on a close reading of the English
Romantics, the French Symbolists, and the 'Moderns' in all the European languages. I have
relied on translations for much of this study, but I benefitted from reading, as a young
man, such poets as Vallejo, Neruda, Rilke, Trakl, Cavafy, Mandelstam and Lorca. Much was
being done in other languages that is beyond what English poetry attempted at the time. I
also have a keen interest in American landscape painting from the Civil War era. It is
known as Luminism. The work features the study of light on still, elongated wilderness
environments and seaside settings. 'Light' was, in fact, my first word. Finally, I am
quite affected by the career and work of Bob Dylan. I began participating on Ukauthors and
Creative Poems online about three years ago. I have posted work on both sites from time to
time. I have never attempted to publish. I like having a small number of committed readers
since my work is difficult and not to everyone's taste. Persons with peculiar Romantic
ideals tend to enjoy it.
Little Girl Lost
(A sketch from memory)
Sheaves of corn under an infinite sky:
Desire forms that endless way for you.
The isolated circumstance of dating and dance
seems so simple and so perfect too,
Not everything can be singled out.
You wear a gold earring as a reminder
what it is to be a startling woman
in a plain-spoken world.
Up late, past the bedtime of the eastern kings:
The stability of a rectangular parlor,
Marriage should hold, sanity, and even love
like a quaint painting in a dusted frame.
What reminder there is of love is found in spring
then birth and rebirth runs the farm as much as men.
The county fair out on a squared field
designated for pies, pigs, pigtails and the arcing of the sun.
The engines throttle so but not those of state:
Did you ever swing out beneath the trees,
Lifting your spirit high and higher?
Apron tossed aside, dress askew,
Mimicking the motion of the overruling sun.
You must have seen children,
A man dreaming in a cocoon,
The future about to spread its overarching wings.
We still need to swing, lie out under those unfenced skies
to know what is, what isn’t, and what just might be.
Far above the rectangular states drawing out time
and lengthening the neatly polished graves,
I see an urban girl, head turned to one side,
A single earring pierced,
The chiaroscuro of a Vermeer:
The light from the window is such,
She might well be reading the finished script.
Ivan Donn Carswell
Dana A. Campbell
James H Duncan
Milton P. Ehrlich
Dr. Kane X. Faucher
John C. Goodman
Oritsegbemi Emmanuel Jakpa
Ruth Â Ellen Kocher
Dimitris P. Kraniotis
Louis K. Lowy
Elaine Rosenberg Miller
Nicoletta A. Poulakida
Bobby Slais (R Jay)
Paul A. Toth
C. Derick Varn
Anne Harding Woodworth