Prairie Roots

excerpt

ridiculously low prices; even the children may not have fetched
much, being offspring of immigrants. Life was indeed a struggle,
as the first four boys arrived into their care.
My initial memories of that farm include a vague vision of a gray
two-storey frame house and chickens all over the yard. The chickens
I remember looking at in some puzzlement, from an upstairs
bedroom window, and wondering as to their relationship to me. I
also remember the big blocks of “relief” cheese which mother sliced
on the kitchen table; however, I do not remember whether or not I
liked it. It seemed to me that the weather was always sunny, perhaps
because we were only let out when the sun shone.
My most vivid early memory is associated with the 1938
Beeston school Christmas concert at which time I was three and a
half years old, having been born in May of 1935. I remember not
the concert itself, having slept through most of it, but being awakened
in my Uncle Mike’s arms by the noise of Santa’s arrival. Obviously
my name was called and my Uncle hastened forward with
me to see Santa, who scared me half to death before presenting me
with a red toy truck. I have liked trucks and have been leery of
long-haired men ever since!
We lived in our home until the spring of 1940 at which time my
parents bought a 320 acre tract of virgin land from the Hudson Bay
Company, seven and one half miles north of Hubbard. Where is Hubbard,
you ask? Half way between Goodeve and Ituna or, to locate it another
way, about 100 miles northeast of Regina. The new land had not seen a
plough. The neighbors had pastured cattle on it over the years, otherwise
not a tree had been cut nor a stone picked. All this was about to change.
But first a house had to be built to …

https://draft2digital.com/book/3562900

https://www.amazon.com/dp/0980897920

The Incidentals

Emotionless
The seething angst of lust spreading
unwillingly over hierodule’s skin
unaccustomed to feeling emotion, unable
to participate in the lovemaking
she had only to provide, a vessel
she was at the altar of Aphrodite
a useful female at the pleasure of
men visiting, men always visit a
temple standing by the hillside, men
always seeking the seething lust
in burning flesh of the hierodule
who performs her duty to the lustful
Goddess asking for nothing but
their due honor as free servants,
no royalties paid or asked for, no
penalties charged on unappreciative
males who cared about their satisfaction
and left the pleasure of female
or her Goddess to the hands of
elements scheming their revolution
the seething angst of lust demands
her body’s contours and dark caves
on the altar of Aphrodite deserving
unemotional dedication, like any
archon sitting up high, like any God
jealous or self-absorbed and relaxed
and truly the hierodule too will
one day sit at the big table
of the selected few, one day
she too will be named the heroine
of the goddess wasn’t she after all another
true believer? Wasn’t she too a true
little unrepentant Christian?

https://www.amazon.com/dp/1926763637

Γεράσιμος Λυκιαρδόπουλος, Βαρκελώνη

Jazz with Ella

excerpt

ILLEGAL INTENT
ULYANOVSK, JULY 18, 1974
Maria’s eyes were dreamy and romantic as she twisted her own “first promise” ring. “They were such a cute couple,” she sighed. “Did you see how he looked at her—with so much love?”
“I only hope she feels the same way,” Jennifer said.
“I can’t believe he just walked out of that park without a backward glance,” said David. “I couldn’t do it. Leave my life behind, my family back in Canada…”
Jennifer, Ted, Maria and David had gathered at a dinner table aboard ship where they were reasonably sure there was no bugging device. They had determined this the day before by the simple expedient of dousing the table “accidentally” with a pitcher of water. A waiter had immediately stripped the table and replaced the cloth while they watched.
“We have to be cautious,” said David, indicating the room at large. Only a few other diners were present and the dinner had been delayed once again. “Our first item of business…”
“Excuse me. Have we elected you leader?” Ted asked.
“Could you at least listen to me? Our first item of business is how much we tell the others—here’s Hank now and he looks as if he wants to sit here. And then there’s Lona, who some of us mistrust, and we should decide that before she arrives.”
“Everyone’s got to know,” pointed out Maria, “except Natasha, of course. Don’t you think people are going to miss Paul? Though maybe not everyone needs to know about the second part of the plan, about Volodya…”
“Agreed,” replied Ted. “But there will have to be a few of us who know about the second part so that we can help.” Jennifer thanked him …

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https://www.amazon.com/dp/1926763246

Kariotakis-Polydouri, The Tragic Love Story

I Want to Leave
I want to leave this place, to go far away
I want to become golden dust in the air
simple element, free, brave
to an unfamiliar new land I’ll go
where things of the world will appear
like dreams and they’ll talk to the soul
where the nice faces of people will smile
and where I too shall be beautiful
where, my god, darkness wouldn’t exist
in the night, nor in the despair of the place
upon the horrible skyline or in the wind’s wailing
nor in the glances or words of people
where there won’t remain anything
but a little joy and satisfaction
where all will say that they have left forever
that perhaps they are all already dead.

https://draft2digital.com/book/3562951

https://www.amazon.com/dp/1926763459

The Circle

excerpt

“Thank you, Hakim; I’ll be in touch when I’m in L.A. Bye for now.”
He has committed himself to the task he and Ibrahim discussed the last time
they were together. This makes Bevan Longhorn feel more relaxed and peaceful
inside. His good, old friend, as he calls him, is right and Bevan knows what needs
to be done, before the end of the year.
Hakim’s mind flutters to a variety of things, as he tries to figure out what the
Admiralmeans by his crypticmessage about needing to see Ibrahim before the end
of the year. He shreds themessage and then sits at his workstation and opens the line
to communicate with his uncle. It’s no later than ten o’clock at night in Baghdad.
“Hello my dear uncle; are you there?”
“Hello, my dearest son. I’m here doing some paperwork; Mara is in bed already.
How are you?”
“I’m good; Talal is flying today via New York. He is flying with American
Airlines, flight number A3552. Expect him in Baghdad by four o’clock in the
afternoon, tomorrow.”
“Good. I’ll have Rassan pick him up; is Emily Roberts with him?”
“Yes, of course. Bevan sends his regards.”
“Oh, thank you, my dear boy. Please tell him hello when you see or talk to him,
alright?”
“Yes, my uncle, everything else is the same here. Bye for now.”
About 12:30 p.m., Hakim and Jennifer start off to pick up Talal and Emily.
Jennifer is still jittery and Hakim tries to calm her down.
“Come now, baby, relax. You behave as if you are the one who is traveling;
it’s Talal and your mother. They’re going to be just fine and will have a good
time, you’ll see.”
“I know. I know all that; yet, my mind doesn’t know how to stop worrying.
What do you want me to do?” she looks at him distressed.
“I know what you need; when we get to the airport I’ll show you. Don’t forget
you must be strong and relaxed for your mother’s sake.”


Emily is still very upset about the idea of flying on such a long trip. Talal goes to
the bar and pours two glasses of wine.
“Come, my love. Have some wine. It will relax you; we’re going to be fine.
Don’t worry; you’ll make Jennifer worry if she sees you like that. Then she’ll have
a hard time while we’re away.”
Thinking about Jennifer and with wine in her system she feels better in a
matter of minutes, and when Jennifer and Hakim come in, they find Talal and
Emily relaxing on the couch waiting for them.

https://draft2digital.com/book/3562817

https://www.amazon.com/dp/0978186524

Katerina Anghelaki Rooke – Selected Poems

In the Forest
I saw you among the leaves
in the waters
in the light of the leaves
in the leaves of the waters
in the reflection of the moon in the water
I saw you in the lakes, in waterfalls
in the lakes that light creates
in the waterfalls where light tumbles
light encircling your body.
You were coming out of the trees
walking, floating
over dewdrops
over smooth shining caresses
in the insubordinate black of the night…
ah, the night steams behind your shoulders
vapours on wings
and a mysterious triangle shines
on your chest: dazzling target
of beauty.
From the grassy areas to the hairy tops
high up to the crowns
of the superior branches
the highest frieze of lunacy
in nature
the voices of dead moths
the spring of springs
the unbearable bird of sorrow
I hear with your voice
that rises from the depths
where the bile and the soul
in one voice refuse to die.
everything that’s yours raves
in the thickets, in the grassy empires
of the dreams
in the glorious silence of the ivy
in the silent syncope of the fern
in the vinous fainting of the autumn leaves.
Your meaning gushes out:
that no life
is stronger than lust
no act more final
than poetry.
ere where you touched me
where I flowered
where I almost died
from where I called you
adorning your other nature
there where I was crucified
where I suffered
for your fairy-like grace
there where eros was light
but with heavy consequence for the water.
Untamed in the ruling of reality
tell me, how I might see you again
coming out to the opening of the trees
with your thin legs
wrapped in wisterias
with the sperm of birds
in the roots of your hair
you who brought the sky
for whom I spent hours gazing through the window
for whom the crows shifted their nests
you who spoke the words
that resembled wild marigolds on the hillside
you who shone: lips and words
you the superior being
of poetry in the creek.

https://draft2digital.com/book/3562965

https://www.amazon.com/dp/1926763521

George Seferis – Collected Poems

II Psychology
This gentleman
has his bath every morning
in the waters of the Dead Sea
then he wears a bitter smile
for the business and the customers.

https://www.amazon.com/dp/B096TTS37J

Red in Black

Coffee
Boiling hot aromatic coffee
upward whirling fragrance
tiny table
our legs were touching under it
entangling slowly
when your eyes
dived deep in mine
imperceptible movement of your lips
meant your anticipation
for my prodding
of your mind to lustful thoughts
erotic undulation amid
waves of a sea
angered and passionate
and leaving the cup of coffee
you put your hand over mine
sign that ready you were
for the transcending rhythm of Eros

https://www.amazon.com/dp/1771713208

The Unquiet Land

excerpt

and, unlike Padraig, who did his best with what physical strength he had, Michael was a farmer to his finger-tips: strong and tireless, with an instinctive knowledge of the land and its needs, bred into him through countless generations of farming ancestry. For these very different characteristics Caitlin loved them both.
Michael was late today and that was unlike him. He knew how much Caitlin hated unpunctuality and he never showed up late for anything without good cause. Something had delayed him. Caitlin stood up from the rock on which she had been sitting and started along the footpath to the harbour, hoping she would meet Michael on the way. A strong breeze from the sea flicked her 1ong, black hair and flappered her skirt like a flag on a pole as she strolled along the path. Tussocks of grass bent over in the breeze like peasants in potato fields. Seagulls sliced the wind with bladed wings. Shags skimmed over the waves, and gannets plunged for fish like suicides. The air smelt of sea-wrack and salty pools.
Then Caitlin thought she heard her name being called. She stopped and turned and saw Nora hurrying towards her. She waited till Nora arrived beside her, breathless and smiling, almost laughing.
“You seem to be in good form today, Nora,” Caitlin said.
Nora linked her arm through Caitlin’s, and they dandered on towards the harbour. “Oh Caitlin, Flynn’s back. He’s back for good. We’re not going to live in Dublin after all.”
“Well, no wonder you’re in good form,” Caitlin said. “I’m glad you’re not leaving. I’d have been lost without you.”
The girls sauntered along in silence, arm in arm, almost mirror images of each other, save that Caitlin wore an old blue cardigan and Nora a brown, woollen coat. An unbiased observer might have said that Nora was the prettier of the two. There was a hardness to the line of Caitlin’s mouth and a certain insensitivity in her eyes, both of which were absent from the gentler, softer features of her sister. Otherwise they bore the physical characteristics of twin girls. As they approached Purdy’s Point they stopped to watch the waves break on the black dike and the wrack-covered rocks. Nora kept her arm entwined in Caitlin’s but she said nothing.
“What’s on your mind, Nora?” Caitlin asked at last.
Nora hesitated, her eyes still fixed on the choppy sea. Then she turned to Caitlin and said, “I was wondering about you and Michael.”
“What about me and Michael?” Caitlin asked, though she knew well what was coming.

https://draft2digital.com/book/3562888

https://www.amazon.com/dp/1926763203