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Sylvia header
‘A River Of Milk’, started as an e-zine that turned into this blog of Dutch-English poetry. I, your Laura of milk, am the editor and responsible for most of the translations from Dutch to English. Poetry Books for review can be send to my personal home adress after contacting me by e-mail. Submissions can be send to demelzadreams@posteo.net

maandag 30 januari 2017

Medbh McGuckian - Two Poems From 'The Flower Master' (published 1982)

That Year

That year it was something to do with your hands:
To play about with rings, to harness rhythm
In staging bleach or henna on the hair,
Or shackling, unshackling the breasts.

I remembered as a child the red kite
Lost forever over our heads, the white ball
A pin-prick on the tide, and studied
the leaf-patterned linoleum, the eleborate

Stitches on my pleated bodice.
It was like a bee's sting or a bullet
Left in me, this mark, this sticking pins in dolls,
Listening for the red and white

Particles of time to trickle slow, like a wet nurse
Feeding nonchalantly someone else's child.
I wanted curtainings, and cushionings,
The grass is no bed after dark.






Mr McGregor's Garden

Some women save their sanity with needles.
I complicate my life with studies
Of my favourite rabbit's head, his vulgar volatility,
Or a little ladylike sketching
Of my resident toad in his flannel box;
Or search for handsome fungi for my tropical
Herbarium, growing dry-rot in the garden,
And wishing that the climate were kinder,
Turning over the spiky purple heads among the moss
With my cheese-knife to view the slimy veil.

Unlike the cupboard-love of sleepers in the siding,
My hedgehog's sleep is under his control
And not the weather's; he can rouse himself
At half-an-hour's notice in the frost, or leave at will
On a wet day in August, by the hearth.
He goes by breathing slowly, after a large meal,
A lively evening, very cross if interrupted,
And returns with a hundred respirations
To the minute, weak and nervous when he wakens,
Busy with his laundry.

On sleepless nights while learning
Shakespeare off by heart,
I feel that Bunny's at my bedside
In a white cotton nightcap,
Tickling me with his whiskers.




Medbh McGuckian (1950)
Is an Irish poetess who has published several books of poetry and won numerous awards, including an Ireland Arts Council Award, the Rooney Prize for Irish Literature, the Cheltenham Prize and the Forward Poetry Prize. She was also the first woman to hold the Writer-in-Residence position at Queen’s University.
McGuckian currently lives in Belfast with her husband and children, and is a professor of English at Queen’s University.


portrait by Jeffrey Morgan

zondag 22 januari 2017

Cíntia Pumes - Expelling Flowers


artwork: ENtirré (Enikő) Kramcsák - Transformation Of The Woman's energy
   

Cíntia's way of writing is inspired by “écriture feminine”, as put by Cixous.


Expelling Flowers


Rimbaud: “Ton coeur bat dans ce ventre où dort le double sexe”


as much as one hears the thunder as much

as one sees the lightning

the bolts hurt



as much as the suture will always give birth

petals one by one spin the sun

as the daughter of the phenomena and such tricks

I tease the heart’s ectopic libido

lap in which now I accommodate myself



a velvet nest like uterus

I remain in that foetal position

nest rehearsing ulcers



when expelled in coronary pulsations

via artery in advanced state of flower

I recognize the birth mould

that shapes this discovery:

our umbilical origin

comes from the conflict zone

that is the delivery zone                     patrimony of mothers

vagina flowers is everything we all are

vagina flowers and the beginning of a stem

one day a body of oak?



as much as one hears the heart

as much as one doesn’t see it

it beats



the womb that shaped it

a home that is no more

behold we are born with a shot heart

we are born owing our heart:

corolla that spins the shooting Earth








Cíntia Pumes is a Brazilian poet currently living in Brussels, Belgium. At the moment she works on her first poetry book. 
















ENtirré (Enikő) Kramcsák is a Hungarian artist based in Belgium. Her creativity and creation are an organic part of her life and through her paintings she aims to bring harmony and love into the lives of people. You can see more of her work here: https://www.behance.net/entirrekramcsak

zondag 15 januari 2017

Vicky Francken - When I had a child, I thought


When I had a child, I thought
this child I’ll have to care for.

Giantess of glass and cerebral cortex,
a gnarl grows 

from my bare chest. A little fist
lays itself in my grip. Disposable skeleton

from stone that proves to be bone, hard enough
to not break beneath the cradle blankets

soft enough
for two alive.


Translation by Laura Bosma and Vicky Francken.
The Dutch original of this poem can be found in Vicky's first volume of poetry,
'Röntgenfotomodel' that has recently been published.


Toen ik een kind kreeg, dacht ik
voor dit kind moet ik zorgen.

Reuzin van glas en hersenschors,
een knoest groeit

uit mijn blote bast. Een knuistje
legt zich in mijn vuist. Wegwerpskelet

van steen blijkt been, hard genoeg
om niet te breken onder wiegedekens

zacht genoeg
voor twee in leven.



Vicky Francken  (1989) is a poet and a translator. Her first volume of poetry, Röntgenfotomodel (X-ray Photo Model), has recently been published.





picture: Merlijn Doomernik

A River Of Milk - E-zine issue 1, Sylvia

Here is the link to:
A River Of Milk - E-zine issue 1 Sylvia
Published on Aug 16, 2016 

The poetry E-zine from (mainly) women about womanhood, pregnancy, birth, miscarriage, adoption and (grand)motherhood. Issue 1. is dedicated to Sylvia Plath.

With Deja Beauchamp, Anne Broeksma, Vrinda Aguilera, Vinita Agrawal, Jolanda Lichthart, Rahel Jaidhauser, Verena Möllenkamp, Hanneke van Eijken, Tammy T. Stone, Waltraud Süss, Julie W. Prentice, Hester Postma, Jamie Burgess, Sylvia Plath, & Wendell Berry.