(April 2002) Page 2
Married twice; this one in it's 32nd wonderful year. Two children: 27 and 28.
Leisure interests: Cruising under sail (current boat Parker 21). Writing: poetry, adult and childrens’ short stories, (some adult stories and poetry published). Reading: especially Patrick O’Brian. Cross-country walking. Music: 40s big bands, classics (choral, Wagner, Delius). Art: Art Noveau, Art Deco. Drinking: Lots of red wine.
© Tom Riley
High on the wet windswept Northern Divide,
Where predatory Kites and Buzzards rise,
Seeping from the Mossed and granite scarred hillside,
Began a great commercial enterprise.
Daughter of Goyt and Tame from Pennine clough,
Mem'ries only; of wide windswept moorland,
Past the roaring banks of Fiddler's Ferry,
Earth coloured home, to dab and conger eel,
Her heart grieves for Liverpool of to-day,
Great fleets of ships, made landfall at her Bar,
Now Tanker traffic trails it's oily smears,
Merchant Princes rode the commercial wave,
Liver Building; the great bronze birds on high,
Water Street and Dale's stone buildings lead
St. George's Hall in Lime Street's busy tide,
Busy ferries, on Mersey used to sail
Remembered days: on blacked-out city ways,
Now in the dark each doorway holds a threat.
The Dingle and along the Cast-Iron-Shore
Those rose red halls of trade that warm and grand
Now gone; the little dwelling terraced streets,
Gone is cobbled William Henry Street,
Gone are the mighty Clydesdale horses, fair,
Closed on itself the dying city sleeps,
Shaking her foam fringed locks in puzzled thought,
Proud porridge, salt island in creamy sea,
Heather honey anointment, never wrong.
Rolls of Aberdeen wait, with scalding tea
Their silky texture to exalt the tongue.
The overture gone, now! the symphony,
Our plate, resplendent in hot greasy steam.
Rich blood pudding nestles in harmony
With fried Clootie dumpling, (a Glasgow dream).
Pork Links; warm, brown, offer their smiley sheens,
Bacon streaks round potato scones in fun,
All interstices filled with sequinned beans,
Two eggs atop, their chrome yokes yet to run.
Raising my tea mug ruefully I ken;
There goes a month from my three score and ten.
Silk tabernacle to life's mystery.
Graceful adornment of the form divine.
Epitome, of that lost history
When romance blossomed on roses and wine.
With slinky folds and lacy daring darts,
Your power could rouse the most torpid male.
Exciting product of the Nouveau Arts
In colours vivid, shimmering or pale.
Beautiful talisman of that lost age,
When there was a world left to discover.
Your shy picture adorned the fashion page
To tempt secret present from a lover.
Though fading now, for you my fires still burn;
Dear garment, how I long for your return.
Richard Vallance was born in Guelph, southern Ontario, Canada, on March 11th., 1945, and currently resides in Ottawa, the nations capital. A graduate of Sir Wilfred Laurier University, Waterloon, Ontario (H.B.A. 1968) and the University of Western Ontario, London, Ontario (M.L.S., 1975), Richard is a professional University librarian, now on disability pension. Richards career as a librarian reached its zenith in October, 1983, when he won the prestigious Data Courier Award for Excellence in Online Papers ($1,000 U.S.), in Chicago, Illinois.
However, progressively aggravated alcoholism eventually forced him to retire prematurely, in September, 1991. Fortunately, Richard ceased drinking altogether in 1992, and has been sober now for a decade. While he did write some poetry during his "wet years", alcoholism severely blunted his inspiration. Creativity only truly blossomed in 1995. Since that time, he has written over 1,500 poems, most of them Sonnets, though he also specializes in both Haiku and the stricter, more traditional Japanese Hokku verse form. He has also composed numerous so-called "free verse" poems, and has published one book of poetry:
A Quilt of Sonnets: Forty Four Familiar Poems. Ottawa: Providence Road Press, 1998. 56 pp. ISBN 1-896243-7-x. [National Library of Canada]
Richard has been published on numerous occasions on some of the worlds best known poetry E-Zines, including, Poetry Life and Times (UK) and Autumn Leaves (USA). He also maintains his own bilingual international E-Zine,
and will soon be the editor of a new international Sonnet E-Zine, Sonnetto Poesia.
Richard is the Poetry Reviewer for Poetry Life and Times. Anyone, who writes poetry for Poetry and Life and Times, is cordially invited to submit any poem of 20 lines or LESS for consideration for review to:
Richard also moderates numerous Poetry Discussion Groups, the most notable of which are: 1. Describe Adonis [Shakespeares Sonnet 53] 120 members. Yahoos largest Sonnet poetry group by far. Here are posted historical sonnets, commentaries on sonnet writing, and sonnets by members:
2. Kawasaki Zen Haiku 90 members. Yahoos 3rd. Largest Haiku-Hokku poetry group, featuring links to historical Haiku Web Sites, examples of historical Haiku by such illustrious composers as Basho, Buson and Issa, and Haiku/Hokku posted by members, in any language they like:
3. Iliassia [Homers Iliad]. 61 members. Discussion group focussing on Homers Iliad, both in the original "Epic" Greek and in translation. Includes a repertoire archive of pictures, paintings, archaeological sites and cartographic information + maps:
My Carousel Home Page is: Poesie's laissez-faire Foire
March 2002 - Nominee for
© Richard Vallance Jan. 18th.,
(revised, Jan. 26th.), 2002
A Resolution of the United Nations
"To pass the Spring and Summer!"
Primavera , dawn! You’re as good as gold!
Come on, Winter! Face it! You’re the has-been,
 "Primavera" [Latin and Italian] = "Spring"
 Lumen [Latin] = "light"
Adonis in April, whose pensive gaze
Has cast one small litotes glance from thoughts,
Our adored Adonis, whose blonde hair strays
On drafts, who pours him cold libation draughts?
What shadows skiff aslant his lambent brow?
What shadows lurk behind those sleepless eyes?
What shades his hale nape haunting? Who'll allow
This stag chase? Wasn't he caught out by surprise?
No tears are here confessed. The only Priest
He trusts is his own soul. She knew why she
Had spurned his lovely lips, whose love, surceased,
Now's snared him on the horns of love's despair.
Who fell on his, no, your fair breast, your hair
In lilacs foundered? Virgin, this was he.
Matthew Arnold: Dover BeachAlong New Zealand's wild rainforest shores,
where crenellated fjords shake their walls
against an oceans, what a battle roars
for primacy, defying Austral squalls!
You'd know this is a scene few tragedies
can match: I've watched Homeric warriors flayed
before the walls of lambent Troy, now razed
to coals! Have you too not read of Wars played
to dénouements where fierce tsunamis, crazed
against death, declared on us, "It's war!", as though
we'd plagued both lands and seas, and our disease
had spread its scourge across our Earths tableau?
Has anyone else come here to search out peace
as rains are quelled by Sunsets Golden Fleece?
Café au lait on her table, a cool
April's breeze flipped a leaf in her Paris Match
as she sat deep in reading on a stool
in partial shade, so engrossed she wouldn't catch
you scrambling down still moist cobblestone stairs,
although you'd hailed her (twice at that!) out loud;
but set instead her mind on state affairs,
sheer concentration in a lunchtime's crowd
until your hands had touched her with, "Surprise!"
as you came to offer her your flowers,
carnations, what a sight for sorry eyes
focussed not a moment on the showers!
Was this some mirage or one's dreams come true?
Never seen Paris in April, have you?
for Anthony Walker
For summer's thoughts and summer's lucent days
Do you recall how our royal blue ship
We've ransacked stars and Perseid showers,
Our friends have all gone starry-eyed, surprised
* From the title of Ernest Hemingways Novel,
|Notice: Our Resident Poet Jan Sand is recovering from an illness. So he gave me permission to use whichever poems I liked for this month. I picked out these three unusual ones below, from his large collection "Adverse". They are good examples of Jan's unique view of life and the universe.
Jan Sand in New York
Recently Jan was published by Kedco Studios Artist Profile Press, on their latest CD ROM e-book, "A Way With Words (Poetry Real and Surreal), which also includes complete books by Dale Houstman, Sara L. Russell and Keith Gabriel Hendricks. Jan's illustrated book on the CD is called "Wild Figments And Odd Conjectures", which is also sold separately, in a limited-edition "single" CD.
To see an illustrated article about Jan's poems, visit the November '98 issue of Poetry Life & Times, and scroll down past the Editor's Letter. He also has his own poetry pages on Charlotte's Web at Artvilla.
© Jan Sand
It was sufficient for him
To indicate height alone.
To stretch steel and glass
From pedestrian streets
Upwards to the dominions of the clouds
And thereupon permit permutations of colored air
And the slow majesties of the sky
To rub soft shoulders
On his crystal disciplines.
The consequence of Wednesdays
Parented by Tuesdays
Enchained in turn by Thursdays
That parse our times and lives
Assigns the rigid order
To package star events
That nestle in our minds
And join to make us whole.
Birthdays and deathdays
Over morning coffee, our ruminations push
You cannot squeeze
Poetry from words.
Iambic feet must stomp
The pregnant juiceful
Joyful globes to tread out
Memories to tears, to bubbling streams
Of giggles, spears
Of flashing primaries
To stain the world
With grief veined with light,
Bulked bulbous blacks
Speckled with the silver
Of reflection. The words
Are hollow bowls
To catch the vintage.
There is here
Fruit and acid bitterness.
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