Writer – Fevers of the Mind

Holiday Interlude by Ankh Spice from Avalanches in Poetry Writings & Art Inspired by Leonard Cohen

Every morning she’s down there
on the verge, barefoot and swaying her weight
like her holy soles are slow-burning

The light here is an old violin, cracked
varnish music
scratching bars through the watcher’s window
and her grey head bows angel time while she dances
if that’s what this is

By the eighth morning I’ve composed her life
from scraps, quilting her song
with real wild bright minors
I toast her with coffee
and sing her down ribbons

The day I leave she treadles the gutter
stormwater, kicks up sticks and feathers
cursing the rain
cursing the pigeons, the windows, the watcher
wearing a whole different heart
and the light is more hammer than strings

Photo by (c) Ankh Spice

Bio on mini interviews blog http://poetryminiinterviews.blogspot.com/2022/01/ankh-spice-part-one.html?sm_au=iVVrjf8kjTJ8DssVHtJqHK0qJ6jF1

5 Poems by Ankh Spice : That which can be made visible, Hold the river, Feeding the koi, Act like you were never for sale, & Hathor’s gift

@seagoatscreams on Twitter

2020 Pushcart Nominee

Ankh Spice is a poet from Aotearoa (New Zealand), who has an abiding love of the sea, and story-songs that include small mysteries. His poetry has been recently published in Black Bough Poetry, Burning House Press, and Pixel Heart Magazine, and has recently completed his first chapbook. @SeaGoatWhoScreamsPoetry on Facebook.

Avalanches in Poetry 2 Entry: Peter and the Sea of G by Carrie Sword

Peter and the Sea of G

He said all men will be sailors then until the sea shall free them
But he himself was broken, long before the sky would open
Forsaken, almost human, he sank beneath your wisdom like a stone.
[from Suzanne by Leonard Cohen]

A sparkling crown arcs our horizon at night. By day, we skim the ripples and swells of a liquid desert. We sail
back and forth across the Sea of G all the time. We risk being swallowed by it every day, and I usually love that.

Eashoa said he’d meet us on the far shore after he’d calmed the crowd and had some time alone. But on the
boat, none of us slept and the ocean roiled more than usual. It was like how I felt earlier that day.

We’d led hundreds of beginners into the desert to hear him. They sat rapt until dusk. Then they were thirsty,
feint, and I felt their eyes on us like we’d know what to do. He prayed, and I found that frustrating considering
the danger of being mobbed. Then it turned out there were people with food in the crowd. Actually, a lot of
food. Everyone ate and felt abuzz about the future. So the trouble in my mind was no trouble at all.

And then we sailed out ahead of him with the sea like a cat taking our boat in her cold teeth like a mouse;
shaking it; then spitting it out to watch it spin. I felt the thrill. But then things got serious, and I figured we’d die
this time. So then he walked right out to us as a ghost and said, “What’s the problem?” He said, “It’s me. Let’s
talk about the day. Come on out.” Then the sea went friendly. He stood there waiting, sure I could walk on
water. I felt like I should.

So next thing I knew I was near the exit door to this life and felt like I was ten mountains above the Earth in my
mind’s eye. I saw myself below, flailing in the water and gulping for breath. I saw my life with clarity I’ve
never had, my decisions winding and curving through years like a signature I’d been signing all my life. I
leaned toward the possibility of continued time. I grasped at it, and the water slipped through my hands. I
thought, ‘This is what it’s like to be dying – to be out here alone.’ But then I saw his hand reaching out. I took it
and he walked me back to the boat like I just needed a little support.

So far my initiation has gone like this: I went looking for my soul in the countryside one afternoon and
stumbled into a sinkhole. The cave had its way with me. It synced my inner clock with the slow drip of
evolution. After ten years I recognized myself as the apparition of a human, but in more ways like a cockroach.
That was how I found the heart of hearts below my feet, laying down like Shiva while I stood on top with my
mouth open.

Once I recognized I’d never find my way out of the cavern, Suzanne brought the crystal and led me up inside
the mountain into the tower overlooking the coast. She said the sea aches to be walked on. We prayed, and she
left me to my work.

So then I was thinking, my subtle-body has already been taken apart in the cave. The quartz has been inserted in
my belly. The Earth lights up my insides. I must be able to walk on the sea. I must be able to break out in
miracles like a Magnolia tree, and leave the ground covered in magenta.

My wisdom is water. His body the wiser sinks in abandon.

At the start of my career I earned a B.A. in English and worked as a journalist, freelancer and public relations writer. I studied French literature and traveled in France. Later my personal experience with dreams led me to pursue an M.A. in counseling psychology and a Ph.D. in clinical psychology. I’m currently a Jungian psychotherapist with a specialization in dreams and a private practice in Minneapolis. I write fiction, creative non-fiction and poetry. I hold an award for excellence in writing from the Associated Press, and my writing has appeared in Sky Island Journal and Ink Drinkers Poetry: A Quarterly Chronicle. My blog can be accessed at https://dancingonmoonlight.com. I can be found on Twitter at @DrCarrieSword.

photo by Nathan Dumlao (Unsplash)

Interview with musician Frank Watkinson

It was a couple of months ago that I was watching videos on youtube for Leonard Cohen, possibly Chelsea Hotel No. 2 and after the song played another version of the song began to play. It was by a man with an accoustic guitar putting his unique interpretation on the song. I dived deeper watching several of his cover songs while with my wife for a couple of hours. He wasn’t just covering folk songs. He had covers of Neutral Milk Hotel, even Slipknot, Death Cab For Cutie, Wilco, the Lumineers & more. I wondered why isn’t this guy more known. He had to have been in bands when he was younger. He has a youtube channel, just him, his guitar, his stories & the most dynamic find of all. He has wonderful original songs. He comes across very humble. He’s done hundreds of cover songs & originals for years & just loves playing music. He’s not looking for fame and money it seems. He’s doing this out of the love of making music.

https://www.youtube.com/user/LOLhi28/featured is Frank Watkinson’s youtube page. Please check his music out & his covers as well.

small interview with Frank Watkinson:

First, I would like to ask how long you’ve been working on your own songs & how do you decide which songs to cover? Frank: I have been writing songs ever since I picked up a guitar, nothing any good, I still don’t think they are that great now but that’s just me , most of the covers I do are requests, I would try anything if asked ,i still do them now but the list exceeds 1500 , so the chances are getting slimmer for those that request them , I was told I should do a Patreon account and people pay for them ,but that would then seem too much like work and i also can’t cover everything ,I’d get stressed out too much ,it’s also not about the money for me I just like what I do right now.
Do you enjoy writing songs more than covers? What are some of the songs you’re most proud of? Frank: I think i like writing my own songs because even if they are vague I know the reason I wrote it , I am not good enough a musician to play a cover exact that is why I simplify them , I have always said don’t let your inability stop you from what you enjoy ,you can only get better,
Who have been your biggest influences, or musically who are some of your favorites? Frank: Basically all the older types like Dylan, James Taylor Ralph McTell , it goes on , I like almost anything acoustic ,but i also like a good song no matter what genre .
Does it take you very long to write a song, and do you enjoy the process or feel hurried to get it done? Frank: Some songs take a few days on and off but they are mostly the ones where I came up with a melody first then try to put words to, others can take as little as 20 minutes for the lyrics as they seem to write themselves , then I just put a basic tune on them , it’s the ones that are started and finished in less than an hour that seem to go down the best.
I have only began listening to your stuff about a month ago, so I haven’t seen every video. Whereabouts in the UK do you live? I have many great poet contributors to my poetry endeavors. It is refreshing to know it still seems relevant unlike in the U.S. as much the arts, the poetry, the music. Frank: I live in a town called Huntingdon ,about 12 miles from Cambridge.
Have you played in any bands while younger? Frank: I have never played in a band and i haver never played live anywhere , I have no desire to either ,I’m not a stage performer I dread the thought , sitting at home with a cat and dog as my audience is one thing ,standing up in front of others is another ball game, I just mess around writing or covering a song post it on you tube and set it free , I also have no desire to record them in a studio despite the requests to, I think I’m a what you see is what you get person.
Do you enjoy poetry or particular writers or authors? I don’t mind listening to the occasional poem but I’m a terrible reader, I struggle to read a book because my mind wanders and before i know it I’ve forgotten what I’ve just read ,thank God for audio books , I can put on headphones and be in another world.
How were you encouraged to try out the youtube process, and did you use any other internet avenues prior to youtube? Frank: I put some very old songs on Soundcloud to begin with , then one day just to see how easy it was I posted a song on you tube ,easier than I thought so kept on posting , I certainly didn’t plan on the reaction i seem to be getting, I haven’t pushed myself in any way at all , it was supposed to be a bit of fun with one or two subscribers.
What have been some of your other hobbies growing up? Frank: I honestly don’t think i had any other hobbies ,I used to work almost every hour i could and the only thing I did in my spare time would have been play the guitar for an hour or two.
Have you done much traveling and where are some of your favorite places you’ve visited? Frank: I have done very little travelling abroad ,a few times to Euro Disney with the family , and a visit to Cyprus to see my daughter ,but I do travel all over the UK I like to go to places then leave the main routes and discover places myself.

Just performing songs my way ,nothing too serious, we can’t all be polished professionals but that shouldn’t be a reason not to sing. if you really want to donate then here is a PayPal link ,i’m quite happy either way . https://paypal.me/pools/c/8uPISeE6aB

Poem re-post by Barney Ashton-Bullock : L’anti-arriviste est parti

L’anti-arriviste est parti

Even within the abhorrence of absence
is a marked aberrance of pulsing joy;
we are left conveyancing the wounds –

We are abeyant to their melodic seep;
your intuit repertoire of counter-hex,
your quasi-bittersweet loll of lyrical intrigue –

Here, a sallow heart inflates with hope,
there, a hollow mind tolls in outreach;
we are all but trough-laden, sod-bound arrivistes,

Cusping it, winging it, drowning in it someday,
therein be the tragedy, the mystery, the mirth;
the orientation is the destination –

For when, to a sailor, the sea is as mildew in motion,
its wonderment worn to slicken sick liqueform veldts ,
its waves puckering in indigest, vomiting for revolution –

For when, to that sailor, the ambics of trussing waves
testify in their throt of malaise; their unchewed tether
of gruelly variegations lap ‘round slung, trash-forms a-ripple –

Pollutant detritus, deleterious of such seafarers’ safety;
sizes serried from swirling particulate to the lumpen, sunken,
dumped ‘white goods’ sea-bed bedrocks of corrosive causticities –

We, shoreline blind to this immersed bind of junk cluster,
ever await for a hallowed sunset, imbuing it with miracle,
with the cure, the penance, the forgiveness; a prophecy –

Just as you soothsay sang it, mister;
residuous and resonant,
in shalom and amen.

Poem from Avalanches in Poetry Writings & Art inspired by Leonard Cohen (2019)by Barney Ashton-Bullock “Yet”

Bio: Barney Ashton-Bullock, is the poet/librettist in the ‘Andy Bell is Torsten’ music-theatre-poetry collective and he narrates his own verse on the Downes Braide Association albums. He is the founder of Soho Poetry Nights. He has poetry published, or pending publication, in a wide range of cult poetry journals**, in the ‘Avalanches In Poetry’ tribute anthology to Leonard Cohen, in the Dreich pamphlet ‘Famous’, in the Pilot Press ‘Queer Anthology Of Healing’ and in the ‘Soho Nights’ anthologies published by The Society Club Press who also published his first collection ‘Schema/Stasis’ in 2017. His latest poetry pamphlet ‘Café Kaput!’ was published by Broken Sleep Books in 2020.
(**the Wellington Street Review, the New River Press Yearbook, SPAMzine, Re-Side Magazine, -algia Press, Scab Mag, Pink Plastic House Journal, Lucky Pierre Zine, Poetry Bus, Neuro Logical Magazine and the Babel Tower Notice Board)

Poetry Re-Post for Leonard Cohen Week: To the End of Love by Sadie Maskery

to the end of love

music is the last memory

                   perhaps a fragrance

outlasts it but here

there is only

ashes

my darling your hands

seem

so cold in mine

do you remember

dancing

in the small cafe

you were awkward you

tried

so hard to please

me but

my sweet heart you step

out of time it is your

smile

holding

the melody

the love in your eyes

holding the melody melody

i remember your

love

your eyes closed

your hands

hold me

am so

frightened

the music is

fading

hold me

Bio: Sadie (@saccharinequeen)
Sadie Maskery lives in Scotland by the sea with her family. Her writing will be found in various publications both online and in print, and she can be found on Twitter as @saccharinequeen where she describes herself, optimistically, as “functioning adequately “.