JAN SAND lives in New York and is an illustrator and sculptor as well as a poet. Some amazing examples of his work appeared in the November '98 issue of Poetry Life & Times. Click on the whale to go there and scroll down to just below the Editor's Letter.

© Jan Sand

How to adjudicate the multiplicities,
Navigate the forests wherein resides my love?
This fervent fragile fugitive has complicities
With setting suns, with fields of stars, with a dove,
In hormone surges, conformal urges,
Odd conceits, peculiarities of prejudice,
And a stricture of nostalgia which emerges
In templates of immaturity from the abyss
Out from which we all ascend.
How do we ascertain the structure of this beast?
Perhaps we all must, at end
Take its measure at its least,
Concede love as mere arbitrator
Joining, in good will, alliances that breed
A creature designated celebrator
Of our capabilities to join in joy and grace
With others of our kind, the human race.

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ROCHITA LOENEN-RUIZ Poet and fiction writer, was born in the Philippines and moved to Holland last year to marry Jan, her Dutch Fiancee. She is active on the Aylad newsgroup, writing and commenting.

© Rochita Loenen-Ruiz, July 9, 1998

Van Gogh
painted Sunflowers
in his tortured state
His mind beseiged by images
a thousand demented dreams
colors flowing onto paper
happiness of sun
in paint
in oil on canvas
silken sheets
written down in ink
to make poetry
of sunflowers
that turn and turn
to catch the warmth of the sun
just like me
ever yearning
for the warmth
of you...

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JOSH HILL writes and gives insightful comments on the alt.arts.poetry.comments newsgroup. The illustration is my interpretation of his poem HAD I NOT LOVED YOU.

© Josh Hill

Had I not loved you twenty years ago,
How lovely would these painted lips now seem,
How soft these rubber breasts, how white as snow
And with what sparkles would these capped teeth gleam!
But you had none of these: a pockmarked face,
A cute scooped nose and bangs of plain brown hair,
Hand always with a cigarette, in case
Your breath grew fresh, or clothes came up for air.
And yet--my other self! my one desire!
In whose divining company I rose
To angeled heights, and drank the sun's own fire!
And now to think it was not you I chose.
Then pity who disdains what he loves most,
And trades his future joy for hollow boast.

© Josh Hill

She has no name, she whom I love,
No starry eyes, no raven hair,
Yet while I do not know her name,
I know she is surpassing fair.

She has no gown, she whom I love,
No sparkling gold or gleaming pearls,
Yet while she does not have a gown,
She's nobler than a line of earls.

She has no name, she whom I love.
But lest you think I fantasize,
Consider this: that in my arms,
She'll be my all, my only prize.

CHERYL WALKER has been writing poetry since she was 16 (9 years now). 1998 was her most successful year so far with a poem being published in a UK womens magazine and a third place in a UK wide competition. Both of which can be viewed at her website;
Cheryl is hoping that 1999 will be just as good to her.

© Cheryl Walker 1998.

If you need a hand to hold
some courage to be brave and bold
warmth to ease the bitter cold
Take mine.

Candlelight to show the way
Feather bed upon to lay
A drop of hope to start the day
Take mine.

To be yourself and not pretend
a broken heart for you to mend
the deepest love which will not end
Take mine.

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