Tasos Livaditis – Poems, Volume II

Long-listed for the 2023 Griffin Poetry Awards

https://griffinpoetryprize.com/press/2023-longlist-announcement/

DEVIL WITH THE CANDLE STICK

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The old woman was angry every night “I’ll disinherit you”
she’d yell and hit the cross eyed doll
who kept spitefully silent; an old house in which we
the tenants lived crowded in insignificance or each
of us asked the other for a piece of a thread;
dampness maintained the old nightmares on the walls;
one frosty night, “let me see my fortune” I said as the fat
card reader was sitting at the back end of the hallway;
I placed a coin in her plate, she revealed the first card:
queen of spade “she’s the woman with the seasonings” she
said to me; the second card was three of hearts “you’ll be
three,” she said and then she revealed another card which
had no name — the crowd continued passing the bridge,
some had reached the suburbs, the priest was calling
“brothers”. In the evening, during the funereal supper, they
all dipped their bread in the watery soup until someone
sitting at the end of the table, as he couldn’t take more
of the supper, got up, went out, came back with
the whole of the neighbour’s garden; the insects were
buzzing softly carrying the graces of the dead woman.
Then the long dusty roads I passed with thousands of
others
then again I, alone, holding a beautiful window which
I had found in my dream
grandfather had leaned the servant girl on the couch “pig”
I yelled at him but when grandfather broke his spine on
the stairway
that girl dedicated herself to him, since we all have to
survive and
more so when we are lost and the young priest slept with
a naked woman, however ugly, in his mind every night,
just to have something to be forgiven for.

https://draft2digital.com/book/4051627

https://www.amazon.com/dp/1926763564

Arrows

excerpt

de Caracas, another kind of coalition was being formed, one to bring
don Don Diego de Losada.
Francisco Infante had always liked to hear himself talk, and I had
heard him on more than one occasion whispering words of
discontent into disloyal ears. It seems he thought himself
ill-rewarded in the customary partition of land and Indians when
the city was founded, and he convinced others of the same. I thought
Losada to be a man of honour and never believed these accusations
against him. Nevertheless, the city suffered from diminished
supplies thanks to the indolence of the Indians. As God would have
it, Losada had sent Pedro Alonso Galeas with sixty men on that very
day before dawn to the land of the Tarmas to help themselves to the
natives’ crops.
Teques and Tarmas met in the mountains and together marched
at the double toward Caracas, through rain and mud. In a twisted
turn of fate, around eight o’clock in the morning, Paramaconi,
Urimaure, Parnamacay and Guacaipuro ran into Pedro Alonso
Galeas and his party of sixty.
Pedro Alonso Galeas was a formidable enemy. He had participated
in the annihilation of the Inca Empirewith Pizarro and had fought with
and then fooled the legendary López de Aguirre, also known as the
Tirano Aguirre, who had betrayed the king and sown seeds of terror
throughout the province of Venezuela for some years.
Galeas must have been as surprised as the Indians. Not knowing
what was afoot, and wisely judging the possibilities against such a
large contingent, he chose to block their way without engaging in battle
proper. He charged and skirmished, then regrouped and waited.
At Maracapana, the remainder of the caciques could not
understand Guacaipuro’s failure to appear. By midday, they had
begun debating their next course of action, but the caciques were not
of one mind. It had taken much effort to organize the attack, and
now, inexplicably, their general commander was absent. Some
wanted to sound the charge; others thought it best to wait longer;
still others believed the opportunity was lost and favoured a retreat.
Many Tarmas and Teques died, shot through by the powerful…

https://draft2digital.com/book/3562848

https://www.amazon.com/dp/0981073522

Antony Fostieris – Selected Poems

Hunter
The wolf and the lamb are always in the same trap
and the heavy hunter with his rifle
lost in the forest opening
beauty chokes him
the unbearable weight of love
that tenderly pushes him to the killing
which is a love song
a thought that flashes inside him
and bloodshed is the response
to the lost virginity.
From a higher step in time now the hunter
tenderly aims at beauty
his clothes, his tears shine,
half lamb and half wolf
he’s wholesome: the rusty trap.

https://www.amazon.com/dp/1926763653

Savages and Beasts

excerpt

Kappa
This October morning the older boys were attending woodworking under the supervision of Mr. Wilson, the carpenter. The sky was dark and the strong tempest, raining cats and dogs, took control over the city of Kamloops; lighting would strike on the eastern and northern mountains with very strong flashes of light spreading over the area. The older boys, about twenty of them, twelve year old and older, in the wood working shop, kept busy under the guidance of Mr. Wilson. Some of them were sanding short pieces of planks which their teacher used to show them how they could finish a piece of wood and then using it along with many others of the same material they could make part of a shelf, a drawer, a stand or any other useful item. Some were watching Mr. Wilson use the electric saw, the drill or the sander; absolute silence was demanded of them while the teacher was instructing.
Mr. Wilson, a fifty something divorcee took this part time job when his business went down two years ago; before that he was a successful builder in Kamloops with a good clientele base; alas a few years ago he put too much on his plate, he extended too much, he borrowed too much money and unfortunately for him when the housing market took a downturn people didn’t need much of his services and being exposed too much when the banks called their loans he was forced to sell all he had at a substantial loss. At that time he also lost the equity of his own residence,

https://www.amazon.com/dp/1926763602