(July 2002) Page 2


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,

Poetry in Emotion la posie smouvoir

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:

[email protected]

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


  • 1. A Quilt of Sonnets: Forty Four Familiar Poems. Ottawa: Providence Road Press, (c) 1998 56 pp. ISBN 1-896243-07-x
  • 2. "À la belle inconnue (Robert Schumann)", in: Arts and Literature Review. Lakehead University. Vol. 1 (3), 1972
  • 3. "Chanson d'Auverge", in: A Ray of Hope. (c) 2000. 257 pp. pg. 129 ISBN 1-58235-559-2
  • 4. "Pow Wow", in: An Hour at Sunrise. (c) 2000. 313 pp. pg. 167 ISBN 1-58253-539-8

    Autumn Leaves [May/June, 2001] - and several of his poems will soon appear in Kedco's Millennium Dawn Anthology

    March 2002 - Nominee for
    The Poets Hall of Fame

    © Richard Vallance, 1994, 2002

    My child light is the light of candlelights.
    See how they all shine, where I'd fumbled round in tears,
    my little hand in Yours, as gently as you lead me
    to my bunker bed, in my decorated room,
    and then to sleep and then to dream what dreams
    only a farmer's boy may in cool moonshades dream.

    My child light is light of last month's moonlights
    on window sills, weaving streamers, elves on my face
    where I, compassioned child, have slept, lashes
    rested on my pillow down and I still dreaming
    half consciously alight on eaglet's wings
    as dawn laps flurried eyes and tickles face!

    My child light mirrors today's millenium light
    leading dancers blithe on my skylight, when
    I from boy's enchantments awakened just
    breathe in air outside that runs towards me
    from laughter's sun, where by the moon I cried,
    same little boy, though why? You'll leap to share my joy!

    *This is the first major poem I wrote, in October,
    1994, two years after sobering up from alcoholism.
    I have been sober now for over a decade.

    d'après Hippolyte Paul Flandrin (1811-1902)
    © Richard Vallance 2002

    pour Paul Pinard,
    mon pet't bel ami triste à Montréal

    Our boy on the oceans,
    young dreams in his arms,
    harbours what notions?
    He's calmed our alarms.

    Reflective, his left hand
    lends wrist to warm right.
    He longs for some land?
    Has it he in sight?

    Brow he's leant forward,
    Raphaelist song,
    wings to rock leeward
    his silk plays along.

    On his horizon,
    one island towers.
    Has anyone gone
    there for flowers?

    A sea's by his feet
    lapping at stone
    as cool and as fleet
    as quiet's alone.

    jeune homme au bord de la mer, 1855, Louvre, Paris

    jeune homme au bord de la mer [1855. Musée du Louvre, Paris] *

    Canadian sonnet canadien *
    © Richard Vallance, May 10th / le 10 mai, 2002

    Ton jeune chat tricolore, qui s’est rallongé,
    your cute little, fluffy Calico cat,
    sur le divan rose en hiver tant qu’en été,
    Or whether weather’s fall or spring stays pat
    à ronronner quels rêves, doux sphinx de la maison?
    Who knows you shall not see her move? Although
    Sournoise, elle sait se faufiler sans faire son son,
    And slip through her door flap, dust storm or snow,
    à chercher (sais-tu qui?) – son bon repas, beau souris,
    one brown field mouse, another little gift
    qu’elle veut bien t’offrir, sans aucun prétexte ou sursis,
    whose sense of execution is as swift
    que la désinvolture de la chasse gymnastique!
    She leaves it at your feet; then rests a week.

    * a Canadian sonnet canadien is a sonnet, in which every second line is alternately English and French.

    English verses are in 10 syllable iambic pentameter; French verses are 12 syllable Alexandrines.

    * Dans le Canadian sonnet canadien, les vers s’enlacent alternativement en anglais et en français.

    À remarquer que les vers en anglais sont en dix syllabes, selon le rythme naturel de la poésie en anglais, c’est-à– dire, le pentamètre iambique (iambic pentameter), tandis que ceux en français sont évidemment alexandrins.

    Translation of the French verses for allophone English readers:

    1. Your young Calico cat, who’s all stretched out,

    3. On the pink sofa, all summer and all winter,

    5. Purring (what dreams are hers?) soft sphinx of the house,

    7. Sneaky, she figures out how to slip away without the merest noise,

    9. Looking for (can you guess whom?) — her dindins, lovely mouse,

    11. She wants you to have without further ado or pretext

    13. As the nonchalance of her hunter’s gymnastics!

    © Richard Vallance, 1998 & 2002

          pour mon ami de coeur, Louis-Dominique

    Why my oh why have you gone & stripped me
    bare on our muslin bed? Why? Bare me, lyre!
    Why, why am I naught if not once attired
    in your white but all too caressing fire!

    Dare say you've imagined our escapades
    where flames over flames so feverish fire
    us to leaves too soon strewn by colonnades
    as lambent as Athena’s bold attire?

    Can Parthenon’s reticulated frieze
    gold Athen's pillared sunset's silvers seize,
    as Apollo from her all seeing eyes flees?

    Decide! Who's Owl, Who? perched on her bronzed arms,
    winks its fierce eyes and casts its Wisdom's charms
    on us, Penitents, on our fumbling knees?

    Jan Sand in New York

    JAN SAND, poet and illustrator from New York, is a regular contributor to Poetry Life & Times and the newsgroup alt.arts.poetry.comments. A great deal of his work is about animals, or science fiction.

    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

    That fin and sea
    That which is me
    Is obvious
    For water is,
    At minimum,
    My only continuum.
    Not earth nor air
    Nor vacuum
    Constitutes my medium.
    Liquidity is required
    Where I live.
    I was sired
    Deep in blue,
    Down in green
    Where biology’s
    Incessant ceaseless industries
    Laid down gene on gene on gene
    To operate in their accords
    Producing me
    And piscine hordes.

    © Jan Sand

    These years, this time, is come tangible
    On sleep’s surfaces, where the moment
    Fabricates the incomprehensible.
    Gravity no longer binds nor must
    Stability be norm. Transience twists form
    So threats are mountains, hope is dust,
    And memory writhes like a worm.
    Here the dead who have taken residence
    Within communities that mentality
    Has fabricated out of daily incidents
    Emerge again in confidence and vitality,
    Reincarnate, no slight intimation
    That their solidity has dissipated.
    Sleep tolerates no pinch of confirmation
    That here dwells unreality. Contemplated,
    These extra universal passages, confusing,
    Are never boring, sometimes amusing.

    © Jan Sand

    In the territory of the Sun
    The days arise when you stare into its eye,
    And when you turn away, day’s done.
    Now you can perceive the country of the moon
    Who’s eye, serene, remains night’s queen,
    Strides smoothly through its dark salon.
    Our years are reckoned out of our careen
    Between encounters with these realms.

    Our glances, back and forth deceive,
    Confuse our perceptions , overwhelms
    Our sense of unity. Makes us believe
    Each instance when we immigrate
    Into these nations, they are places new.
    We have no consciousness to intimate
    We’ve been here before, No déjà vu
    Revealing continuity, no insight
    There is but one day, a single night

    © Jan Sand

    Frequently these days have I approached
    Some storage place, the fridge, the sink,
    And then stand there in puzzlement
    As to why I came. My mind meandered to think
    Of other things. The entanglement
    Of extranealities led me astray.
    Will I then approach death and not know
    How it came to be I lost my way,
    And now I stand, look at him, tip-toe
    To wonder why I came to here.
    Will it come to me before I disappear?

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