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The fire that burns through these poems is complemented by stunning illustrations from the era chosen with care by the translator that set off their own quiet conflagrations. In both illumination and interpretation, Daly's skill as wordsmith and designer is coruscating. We are indebted to him for introducing us to this poet and his passion. Dark-eyed ones come, revealing their inner selves.

Alisher Navoiy, or Nizam-al-Din 'Ali-Shir, a fifteenth century poet, mystic and artist, is reawakened in Daly's sublime translations. True to their spirit yet infused with a modern idiom, these ghazals tremble on the tongue, sparkle on the sheaf.

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A body in flames fires a path through the wilderness, a pinch of skin reminds how close we remain. Here at the source, a cloud hovers. Delectable, delicate, dangerous Susannah spent much of her childhood in Kabul, Afghanistan and spoke Farsi as a child. She has been a waitress, a founding member of the Ad Hoc Players, learned to wield a grease gun at at an auto repair garage, worked on locked psychiatric wards and as a Hospice nurse held the hands of the dying.

In Geography of Love and Exile , Susannah Simpson explores the deepest of human desires: to belong to this world. Through language translucent with longing, she introduces us to her many worlds. We walk with her through the bazaars of Kabul, experience the sensual pleasure of s'mores over a campfire in upstate New York, witness the red-shouldered hawk's shadow "looping across canal water" in Florida.

All the while, Simpson's inner landscape-of loss, loneliness, love-accompanies us along the way. To read this remarkable collection is to explore how the places in our lives shape who we are-and sometimes, if we are fortunate, help us to feel a little less alone. I couldn't read Geography of Love and Exile without thinking of Zora Neale Hurston's line-"Ships at a distance have every man's wish aboard.

This, then, is the spirit and the soul of Susannah Simpson's powerful work, each poem a vessel of a journey taken, lost, interrupted, unfinished, redeemed. Roberto also works with The Dodge Poetry Foundation's poetry in the classroom program. His website is www. Agitations both tender and muscular simmer inside these poems. A sadness that's palpable and physical haunts this poet; so does rage at the power-mongers' forces that keep children hungry, that fester poverty in terrifying mutations.

Roberto Carlos Garcia is, it seems to me, poet-kin of both Lorca and Neruda, but also things like rain, wind, the color yellow and the color green. Here is a breathtaking archive of an imagination at work, a body made up of effort and world. In these sensuous poems everything is up for inspection and interrogation, including the speaker himself.

Here are echoes of Lorca and Neruda, their depth and power, but in a voice entirely the poet's own. Roberto Carlos Garcia's poems take beauty as a gift, and also as a sometimes foil against capitalism and the numbness of the suburban life we are supposed to desire. These poems ache and plead and yearn, and never forget song. Never forget song. Gulnar Ali Balata is a Kurdish American poet, novelist, short-story writer, teacher, and translator. She was born in Kurdistan in Kurdonya , a novel written in the Arabic language , was published in Syria. Gulnar has been published in numerous literary journals, websites and anthologies in Kurdish and Arabic languages, which are her first and second languages.

Her work has been translated into many languages, and has been published in newspapers and magazines, in Kurdish and extensively on the internet.

She was a teacher in Kurdistan and taught English for three years before she left home in She has participated in several poetry festivals within the Kurdish Region, and also abroad, in Turkey and Europe. From her outstanding cooperation, and successful writing, she has received awards from her work, and has been listed as one of the top Kurdish Women Voices in modern Kurdish poetry.

Her pen ripples with sparkling rivers and her expectant heart wrings with sadness as she infuses her poems in shooting stars and sweet dew, as "tears braid Fate's threads Milan Djurasovic is a Bosnian Serb from Mostar, the descendant of delightful peasants and modest working-class stock. He lives in northern California, where he works as a paraeducator. No More Happy Endings is his first collection of poems and short stories.

Before the shooting began, her stories were ordinary, positive, life-affirming, with a clever hero or good-natured idiot overcoming challenges and a greedy foe soon reduced to a pitiful scrub. At the end, the world would turn out rosy and just, and taking part in it made sense. But after a war of nearly , deaths, millions of displaced bodies and souls, and decay peering out of every crevice, such propriety seemed unnatural.

So Baba Jela decided to get rid of it. While other elderly men and woman decided to end their own lives after realizing that nothing would ever again be the way it was before the war, Baba turned her stories and lullabies dark and horrifying, her own way of refusing to play along with uncontrollable circumstances. During the latter half of her lifetime, the Swiss literary establishment perceived her not only as the grande dame of German- Swiss poetry, but also as an elusive, metaphysical, at times eccentric enigma of contemporary German-language literature.

To date, she is the only woman ever to have been awarded Switzerland's highest literary prize, the Grosser Schiller-Preis Each poem is an open environment where anything can happen-a ceremony of advanced thinking-where a pilgrim of great altitudes accepts life's vagaries. Hats off to him, for these full-fledged English poems express all the discreet music, subtle emotions, and thought-provoking qualities of the originals.

Marc Vincenz has done a great service for English-speaking, opening our shutters, our vistas onto the light- rich work of this amazing poet. Each poem mirrors creation and the birth of poetical language, without affectation or even extra syllables. The ensemble remins us of why we turned to poetry in the first place, for its spare, lyrical power, its shock of beauty, emotion, and insight. Her delicate poetic footsteps have long since inscribed themselves in the memory of nature and her readers. She saw people, nature, the world, with both an inner and outer vision.

Zvi A. Sesling has also read on local radio and cable television programs. He is author of King of the Jungle , Ibbetson St. In Fire Tongue , the poems are precise and unsparing as they probe old questions of how and why the unspeakable enters our lives. In terse, suspenseful language and lines that are as light as their subjects they carry are heavy, indeed ominous, Sesling looks for hope, for what can redeem us.

The poet finds the answer in our ability to listen, to feel, to own a conscience, and to value life. Poet Zvi Sesling is at a point in life where there is much more in his past than in his future. In "Fire Tongue" there is delicate balance of the past, present and speculation of what is to come. Sesling fearlessly faces what we all feel deep in our marrow - our own mortality. As a highly skilled poet with a gimlet eye, Sesling pulls this off with a mixture of humor and pathos. No word is wasted Sesling ,my friends, is well acquainted with the night. Fire Tongue takes us on a journey down Zvi Sesling's "road of sorrows.

With a dream-like clarity and precision reminiscent of Hieronymus Bosch, Sesling shows us what we cannot deny about our nature, our history, our times. This is poetry as ritual incantation, a fiery tongue in its own right, teaching us how to navigate and thus perhaps begin to understand our harsh and bloody terrain. Ed lives in New York City. Visit his website at www. Everything is cheaper and chintzier than in the past, from consumer products to culture itself.

Our great cities, and, in particular, New York, are being transformed as we speak, as rising rents squeeze out the artists and bohemians who honed and burnished the city's glittering cutting edge. So should we look backward in teary-eyed nostalgia for the glorious past, or grit our teeth and move forward, accepting the inevitability of change in order to carve out a place for ourselves in this Brave New New York?

This book of gritty urban fairy tales represents a heartfelt prayer for the future of the arts in New York, as well as a blueprint for a moral and spiritual resistance to the forces of cultural philistinism. In seven stories and a novella, Ed Hamilton takes on this clash of cultures between the old and the new, as his characters are forced to confront their own obsolescence in the face of this rapidly surging capitalist juggernaut. Ranging over the whole panorama of New York neighborhoods-from the East Village to Hell's Kitchen, and from the Bowery to Washington Heights-Hamilton weaves a spellbinding web of urban mythology.

Punks, hippies, beatniks, squatters, junkies, derelicts, and anarchists-the entire pantheon of urban demigods-gambol through a grungy subterranean Elysium of dive bars, cheap diners, flophouses, and shooting galleries, searching for meaning and a place to make their stand. He's the editor of the anthology Blue Christmas. His short stories have twice been named Best American Mystery Stories, in and He's a professor at Florida International University in Miami. He is a Guggenheim Fellow in Fiction. His latest novel is No Regrets, Coyote. Merdelle Harris's husband of forty-one years is rapidly deteriorating with Alzheimer's.

She is determined to care for him, to save him if she can. In saving Bobby she's saving her own life, she believes. There are days he doesn't know her, doesn't know himself. Arlis Bryant lives in the trailer next door with his daughter, her three kids, and her beer-drinking, hot-tempered boyfriend. It's awful crowded in there, and the boyfriend thinks someone needs to go. Arlis has fallen for Merdelle, and his attentions are both a comfort and a torment to her. She has to choose between the man who loved her once and the man who loves her now, between the past and the future.

Trailerville , the first play by novelist John Dufresne, is all about love, in all its flavors: first love, unrequited love, unbridled passion, doomed young love, the love of parents for an adult child they don't really understand, the love that grows over time in a marriage, love that is blind to the beloved's faults even if no one else is , and ultimately, what it means to love yourself.

This may sound like a recipe for heartwarming romantic comedy, so let me note that one of Dufresne's strengths as a novelist is his ability to undercut sentimentality with black humor; that talent is in evidence here as well. But Trailerville is also a very sad play, because it acknowledges that love is messy and complicated and often hurts as much as-or more than-it heals. Day earned her M.

The founder and director of a small press, Scarlet Tanager Books, she also served for seventeen years as the director of the Hall of Health, an interactive museum in Berkeley. Following centuries of fateful migrations, Lucille Lang Day becomes the California teller of tales that wow us with her own intimate versions of how need, time and again, restores our lives to living streams of love. Old maid Angenette has an out-of-wedlock baby with a Wampanoag Indian.

The ancestors tell Day, "Welcome home. The elders have been waiting for you. Read this old pot, and you will find the hand of a master. When this confluence produces Lucille Lang Day, who sings the world as both a family member and a scientist, and her daughters and grandchildren, they appear in the life-lines of her poems both as the homecoming of historical pilgrimages and as intertwining swirls of DNA. Here too the endings can be bitter as family members slip away. But the music of her poetry remains. His poems have appeared in many magazines, including Poetry, Image, Colorado Review, River Styx and December , and numerous anthologies.

Louis and is the founding editor of Natural Bridge , a journal of contemporary literature. Belly is a sequence of confessions. It is a quiet yet intense journey into the deepest wells of a maturing heart. Schreiner writes movingly about the painful transience of love and loss, the forces of memory and childhood, delineated by the revision of seasons and the symbolism of flowers as death, as remembrance.

Belly reconciles the permanence of family in all its anguish and grief with the consciousness and inevitability of what supremely makes us human: forgiveness. Steven Schreiner reaches his summit in this remarkably vivid, darkly truthful, and often heartbreaking book of memories, losses and longings, the work of experience. Australian-born Matt Potter lives in Adelaide but keeps part of his psyche in Berlin.

By day he has been a social worker, an English as a Second Language teacher, and oh, many other things. Matt Potter's Hamburgers and Berliners took me to Germany-with brief forays to Austria, Portugal and other European countries-without me having to shift an inch from my sofa. Potter's prose is, as always, absorbing, amusing, enlightening and engaging. If you are thinking of a trip to Europe or Australia, where Potter originates make sure you read Hamburgers and Berliners before you go. This intimate portrait of an Australian abroad should be nestled in your hand luggage beside your spare undies and bottled water-it's just as essential.

Potter examines the differences between cultures big and small-between countries, continents or, at the other end of the scale, the microcultures that exist within a block or a street. He constantly questions the what and the why of things, observing idiosyncrasies and habits and ingrained patterns of thought in a way that makes you see your own surroundings and behaviours afresh. Never uncomfortably disrespectful though often funny , Potter had me smirking with some of his descriptions and going "Aha! Hamburgers and Berliners is that rare thing, a guide to humanity, forgiving in its delivery but covering every niggly aspect of living as a foreigner abroad in delicious detail, warts and all.

If you want to give your brain a holiday, get it, read it, and have a ball. Matt Potter unflinchingly allows us inside his mind and heart, sharing fears and insecurities that most of us would never dare to reveal. His book is both poignant and funny, and through Potter's eyes we get a vivid picture of Germany-its landscapes, people, customs and quirks-while also witnessing one man's struggle to make sense of his own life as well as life at large.

Matt Potter's Hamburgers and Berliners brings back the adventures, the frustrations and the newness of moving to Germany. These honest missives made me want to do it all over again. Teri O'Type. Claudia Serea is a Romanian-born poet who immigrated to the U. Her poems and translations have appeared in Field, New Letters, 5 a.

More at cserea. Serea's poems instantiate with startling clarity and empathy what it means to be at once deeply rooted in the world and permanently dislocated, a cultural curator and translator, a juggler of conflicting desires. To Part Is to Die a Little is a spare yet rapturous chant about an unending emigration and the continuous return to the soul of one culture in the language of another. Readers of To Part Is to Die a Little should prepare for an emotional journey, as they witness dramatic changes in the speaker's character and her surroundings.

His work appears in national and international literary magazines and anthologies. He has been a gravedigger; beekeeper; taught at Williams College, The University of Massachusetts, and Berkshire Community College, as well as preschoolers and high school students, among others. Giannini was the Lead Rehabilitation Counselor for Compass Center, which he co-founded as the first rehabilitation clubhouse for severely and chronically mentally ill adults in the northwest corner of Connecticut. He lives among trees in Becket, Massachusetts with his wife, Pam. That's a lot for a project of this scope to accomplish.

Yes, it's very deftly done, and there is much that is both attractive and amusing: Paul Pines, Charles Olson, and Howard Nemerov as bedfellows is a bit difficult to imagine, but your result is convincing. What comes through to me is the likenesses between all human beings, no matter how differently they may perceive things. It certainly must have been a colossal undertaking. I think you have really triumphed. These are poems that succeed most of the time as poetry and carry a real spiritual impact. Many of these poems, though short, resonate deeply, and few poets get so much from so few words.

These two books complement each other through Giannini's great skill with language and his ability to join the concrete and the abstract. It's poetry grounded in the earth. He is a founding editor and the fiction editor for the online literary magazine, Midway Journal www. Paul, Minnesota. Ralph Pennel lives and writes in Somerville, Massachusetts, and was a finalist for the Poet Laureate of Somerville in Beauty, that is. Ralph Pennel's poems situate us front and center in the speaker's intimate company. In a few humble, trust-earning gestures, Pennel can take us great, often dark, distances.

Whether he is slipping in and out of personae with the ease of a shape shifter, or serving his subjects as a caring spy, Ralph Pennel has reminded this reader that the single, irrefutable craft of poetry is graceful connection. She was nominated for a Pushcart Prize and is the recipient of a Vermont Council on the Arts fellowship.

Murphy has worked as president of Johnson State College in Vermont since and has been recognized for her leadership roles in higher education. She lives and works in northern Vermont with her husband Tom Garrett. Almost Too Much both tactfully and relentlessly interrogates our human experience in these dehumanizing times. Murphy's lyrical narratives, lively and exact, speak of braveries and hesitations, fugitive beauties and stations of calm. These poems should be read aloud for their honesty and musicality.

They do the heart good. Almost Too Much is a stunning debut. Deeply intimate, each line a breath. In flashes of brilliance against a landscape of existential dread, these poems flare up and stare down this given world until it surrenders its grace. Stella Vinitchi Radulescu, Ph. At the present she lives in Chicago. Poetry is the record of hidden things in commerce with one another, and only that mystery allows us to live.

Stella Vinitchi Radulescu's poetry is an alchemy, a magic of restraint and exposure, revealing the machinations of our invisible feelings, motives, appetites and fears. That she is a master of her condensary goes without saying, for this is a consummate language shaped with remarkable skill, and the voyages that these poems take are brilliant excursions into our inner lives, secret things pushed into the subconscious, broken promises and whispered asides.

I have long admired Radulescu's bilingual ability to bend sentences to her will and those constructions are filled with a cross-cultural understanding that is consistently transcendent, that builds bridges into the landscapes of our shared interior lives. Some Words Suicidal , Stella Radulescu's newest poetry collection, is all at once experientially effusive and parsimonious, and is bravely so, both on and off the page.

The meditative remittance of these works reminds us just how language means. Radulescu is not afraid to insist her readers subsist on the unnamable, in the spaces between ideas. Radulescu takes nothing and everything for granted, and at her behest, every word, every line, every stanza and poem reminds us we should too. And, yes, every time, with absolute devotion. He has been writing and publishing poetry for thirty years, with five books in Hebrew: a new book, Broken Times , is due out from Bimat Kedem ; this was preceded by Yehudim Jews , from Nahar Books Chetrit's Shirim BeAshdodit Poems in Ashdodian became a bestseller in Israel where a popular musical, based on the poems, was produced.

He has published countless poems in literary magazines, periodicals, newspapers, and anthologies, as well as several performing shows with leading Israeli musicians. There is a growing body of critical work on his poetry in both Hebrew and English and a generation of younger poets and artists have been inspired by his work. He was recently included in a list of the top 40 Modern Hebrew poets.

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Though a selection of his work appeared in Ammiel Alcalay's Keys to the Garden , this is Chetrit's first full-length book of poetry in English. Producer and director of three documentary films, Chetrit's latest film, Shattered Rhymes: The Life and Poetry of Erez Bitton , depicts the renowned Moroccan born poet, an inspiration to Chetrit's generation.

The film came out in January, , appearing in festivals as well as broadcast on Israeli television, and is available in English. With unflinching courage, clarity, and wit, Sami Shalom Chetrit has gone places no contemporary Israeli Hebrew poet has dared venture. These are places in which the brutality of separatist ideology, enforced identity, militarism, and military occupation, have attempted to blot out the ethics of memory and human relations.

It is in these ruins that Chetrit's rage, irony, and compassion create new ways of imagining realities we thought had reached a point of utter saturation. This collection finally allows English readers a chance to hear Chetrit's vital and inspiring voice. These pages that connect fourteen poets whose chance encounters with one who is no longer with us make fifteen.

Edwin Whitelaw, obscure to all but those who knew him, provided a connection between those whose works and comments appear within, and to whom this anthology is dedicated. Born in the Arkansas Delta near Helena in Whitelaw escaped, however the South's influence upon him for good and bad played an important role in all aspects of his life until his death on Christmas Eve in And so say his ex-wives and lovers. Once asked for an explanation of his paradoxical approach to poetry, he would not give one. He later entered teaching on both the preparatory and college level. He held a doctorate from the University of Arkansas, and viewed his colleagues as "boors and pompous asses.

During the Bush Eras, he found an increasing and alarming distrust of Americans abroad. But hey, look on the bright side, oppression has always been good for poetry. He retired from teaching in the late 90's. Having lived in three foreign countries, he was conversant in five languages, and later worked as an independent consultant to international firms seeking to do business in the United States. Divorced more times than he cared to discuss in detail, he once said he was destined to die alone surrounded by his books unless his large dog outlived him.

It was a statement that proved to be prophetic. His dog in fact did not outlive him, and he was found dead in his rented flat in the Trastevere District of Rome on Christmas Day having apparently died the evening before quite alone. In putting this collection together one contact led to another tied with the common thread of poetry. For his enumerable faults, defects and sins all of which he freely confessed, he with a few exceptions managed to salvage his broken relationships converting them into strange forms of friendships that included me. Another acquaintance, who asked not to be identified commented to me, "J.

Edwin had his share of baggage, but I have to say it was the Louis Vitton of emotional baggage. He suffered from potential. His take? Show me one, and I will show you someone who gives Jesus a bad name. Victory over the Sun , one of the most important events in Russian Futurism and in the avant-garde in general, is not well recognized in the West. Now in a new edition of Larissa Shmailo's brilliant translation of the text, with a lively introduction by Eugene Ostashevsky, readers can appreciate the significance and innovativeness of the play.

Using Shmailo's translation and Malevich's pathbreaking stage designs, the play was reconstructed and staged in to great acclaim and remains a signal accomplishment in the history of the avant-garde. Velimir Khlebnikov, literally, missed the train on co-penning this one, contributing only a poem to Kruchenykh's libretto.

In communicating to us his musicality in English, Larissa Shmailo has done a remarkable job in conferring on Kruchenykh his true due as a poet.

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A century ago, Aleksei Kruchenykh was the way out writer's most way out writer. If publishing today, he still would be. The International Festival of Writers and Artists is held twice a year at the International residence and is directed by Flavia Cosma, a well-known writer whose poetry, prose and children literature is published in English, French and Spanish, as well as her native Romanian. She welcomes at her residency, year after year, new talents from all corners of the world. They have the opportunity to share their poetical-artistic experience with other fellows through festivals where poetry and prose readings, book launches, conferences, round tables, improvisations, music and exhibitions are giving poets and artists of all ages and styles an opportunity to perform their work in the language of participants, most frequently English, French, Spanish, Romanian and even Ancient Greek.

His work also appears in both print and online journals as well as anthologies. He writes and teaches in Pennsylvania where he lives with his wife and two children. Mortenson's poems of celebration and grief, of laughter and agony, of people in dreams and people in our arms, all recycling: the hands of a lost grandfather come again in the hands of a toddler fascinated with water; the world refashions itself as another day, every day; what's out there is born again in the brain, and that loop makes a mind and something at least like a soul.

Mortenson's What Wakes Us is a delightful exploration of the world at hand. The final section of the book abandons the device of lineation altogether in a sequence of prose poems. But throughout the book, there are pleasures to be found. Formerly a Special Education teacher, he is the Director of Bridges Tutoring, an organization in Raleigh, North Carolina, educating multicultural students.

His author Website is www. Bruce Lader's new collection, Fugitive Hope , begins with attractive, jazzy pizzazz and over four sections deepens, broadens, and sweetens, as a pastoral symphony might, into gratitude for life, nature, and his wife, who bears the mysteries of faith and hope. It is an astonishing journey, beautiful and hopeful. In Fugitive Hope , Bruce Lader is an adept guide covering the vast territory of this fresh, lively collection.

He offers compelling, sympathetic portraits of a wide range of individuals, from soldiers to judges, from Diogenes to Orpheus. A skilled craftsman, he knows just when to pull up at the end of his poems, put on the brakes, and send us flying. These are tightly structured, tightly controlled poems profuse with passion and a sometimes hidden but always savage lust for life, formed of "the legacy of gargoyle and Grzegorz Wroblewski, born in in Gdansk and raised in Warsaw, has been living in Copenhagen since He has published ten volumes of poetry and three collections of short prose pieces in Poland; three books of poetry, a book of poetic prose and an experimental novel translations in Denmark; and a book of selected poems in Bosnia-Herzegovina, as well as a selection of plays.

His work has been translated into fifteen languages. His recent book of prose poems, Kopenhaga , was published by Zephyr Press, His work is the most distinct and diverse coming out out of the so-called "bruLion generation" always moving into the major leagues of this universe and perhaps others.

If we don't become extinct as a species in the near future, Wroblewski will go down as one of our greatest writers, artists, and thinkers. Charles S. Poet and translator. Creative in both English and Polish, he is a frequent contributor to Odra translations of T. Eliot and Robinson Jeffers. Joanna Kurowska immigrated to the U. After publishing two books of poetry in Poland- Sciana The Wall , and Obok Near , she gradually switched to English as her poetic medium.

Many of her poems have appeared in American and European journals. These mostly short, lapidary lyrics present to the reader not only a fallen world of detritus, missed emotional connections, thoughtless consumption, empty gratification, but also a world of fragile and fleeting beauty, raptures that last "but a fraction of a second," and art-making that redeems us. A town's soul leaks away as globalization grinds everyone and everything to sameness; a bishop's suit in a window is "a skin missing a body;" and a price is put on everything: "The trees have turned into business letters.

But these are spiritual poems, though the god evoked-invoked-is not the property of any single group or mission. To me, this is a lovely, non-Western image of the inclusion the poet prays for. Inclusions is a book of surprising, reflective encounters with things as small as ants and as big as God. The ants, however, are big enough to make us think about the meaning of life and death.

God, on the other hand, is small and light enough to fit into a snowflake. The poems listen to silence, loved ones now gone, cupboards and birds. Joanna Kurowska's slender verses pray by playing and masterfully lead the reader to the realization that "knowing is letting go. Rodica Draghincescu, born in in Buzias, a town in the province of Timis in the west of Romania, and now living in the region of Metz in France, was called by World Literature Today "one of the most spectacular figures in the new Romanian literature of the s.

Since she has served as Artistic Director of the International Poetry Festival of Metz and consultant for arts education to the institutions of culture of Lorraine, and she is editor-in-chief of the multilingual web-magazine Levure litteraire and on the editorial board of the German review Matrix. About the Translators: Adam J. Sorkin is a translator of contemporary Romanian literature, whose work has won the Poetry Society U.

Corneliu M. Antuza Genescu is a free-lance translator who lives and works in Timisoara in the west of Romania. Her translations of Rodica Draghincescu with Adam J. Sorkin have appeared in literary publications in the United States, the Netherlands, and Slovenia, both in print and on the web. He was awarded the Somerville Newswriters Festival poetry prize, and currently lives in Cambridge where he writes and works for non-profits.

I've just come back from reading the poems in Partner, Orchard, Day Moon , full of admiration. Steffen is so alive in his writing, keen with observation, both of what things actually look like, what the wind feels like, how things grow and rot, and also of character, his own, his uncles', anybody's he sees. The book gives us many wonderfully memorable lines using his chosen meter for all its worth. This is very good work. I'm enjoying reading - and re-reading-the poems. Susan Lewis poses questions that are sine waves amid the urban ruckus of unsweetened yet unnatural nouns.

She nuzzles the vibrato context that her poems would recast. Poetic prophecy thrives amid a balance between selected, anchored logic and prevailing, accurate illogic in the midst. There is a delicious sense of understatement in these poems that drive toward the surprise end of the spectrum that diverts from expectation. Along this welcome string of mysteries, we are perpetually challenged to invent new steps.

Clipped, cut, cajoling, the prose bits of Susan Lewis are pure poetry. This is the kind of entropy "we might as well learn to ride like the wind" to whatever full-stop it takes us, with fun and thanks punctuating our language-voyage. Waking headlong transcriptions of what poetry's dream can do that no other form of writing can: sing condensed quicksilver improvisations that are any smart feeling reader's sought after letters to the Other you too can learn to become from out a "most entertaining cave.

Rx: read this book. Susan Lewis' poems in How to Be Another offer often ironic, always eloquent testament to the agonies of relationships in general and couples in particular. Wielding incisive metaphors like a scalpel, she cuts through social poses and masks to the messy failures and disappointments that lurk underneath the surface of our all too human interactions. Her poetry is compassionate enough to capture our desire to connect with each other and wise enough to recognize our repeated and heartbreaking failure to do so.

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She conceived and edited City River of Voices , an anthology of urban poetry. Her poems have been widely published. An excerpt of her poem about a neighborhood slaughterhouse is installed as public art in Cambridge, Massachusetts. Denise Bergman's second collection of poems is astonishingly original: I can't think of another work that uses something so small to such large effect.

As scribe to the recounting of a few harrowing childhood hours that would shape her grandmother's life, Denise Bergman examines trauma, suppression and how the honest mind must sometimes alter truth. This, then, is no simple compassion; as the narrator bears witness to the recounting of a monumental and guilt-laden secret, Bergman searches underneath the told story.

In her spare, halting lines and the wide silences between them, one senses a tender and horrified listening, and in this listening an implied counterpoint, a murmur of truths unspeakable. Every object in The Telling has a vulnerable, culpable animus. All are witnesses.

Bergman's testimony acknowledges the heartbreaking necessity of amnesia. She is also the author of Lunch in Chinatown , a chapbook of poems inspired by the experience of teaching the English language to recent immigrants in their work places. Commissioned by composer Paul Sayed, she wrote a suite of three poems, Grace in the Wind , and Sayed's composition for piano, cello, and soprano voice had its world premiere at the Longy School of Music of Bard College, Cambridge, Massachusetts in November of Bonina is a graduate of the M.

Program for Writers at Warren Wilson College. In addition to being a Virginia Center for the Creative Arts Fellow since when she was named the finalist for the Goldfarb Fellowship in non-fiction, she is also a member of the Writers' Room of Boston, Inc. What his daughter Mary Bonina has given us is a solid and lasting portrait of a man who was simple and complicated.

That is not a contradiction once you come to know him. America is a country of grand men and women who live on a modest scale, and no one fits that category more than he does. Once his eyes began to fail him, he lived even more for his family and its welfare and his efforts and work make him in my mind, the kind of real hero we fail to glorify anymore.

So enter this book and come to know her father and his dedicated overwhelmingly loyal daughter, as well as a large stage of family members and friends who are unforgettable and insanely knowable and human. Jones, author of The Known World. She is a writer of inordinate compassion, formidable intelligence, and unflinching honesty. My Father's Eyes documents a family's coming to grips with the legacy of blindness, a daughter's unflagging allegiance to her father, and one man's heroic determination to live a life of independence and quiet dignity despite obstacles that would crush the strongest of us.

The book is an inspiration. When I finished reading it, I walked around for days seeing the world through its lens. Yes, it's that good. It's that important. Record player. Telephone party line. Fallout shelter. Holy Ghost. These and other blasts from the past make up the world of this beautiful, clear-eyed memoir that reads like a novel.

It's partly the story of a girl who loved words on her way to becoming a writer. Of all the words in her universe, the most important were eyes and seeing, for this was a girl growing up with a beloved father going blind. Becoming his guide and his eyes, she becomes herself. And what a character he is!

We come to know him as if we're all his children, one minute consumed with terror at the dangers he faces, and the next minute awed by his courage, and the next exasperated by his human flaws. And ultimately, we see and feel for ourselves what his daughter means when she says, "I know about love from being my father's eyes.

Jiri Klobouk writes fiction, radio plays, poetry and essays.

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He discovered jazz when he was twelve and later began to visualize the world around him through a camera lens - he worked for 20 years in television. These experiences are reflected in his writing. He created a body of work in which as one critique noted: "We could feel the rhythm and see things from unexpected angles. The author lives in New York City. A fifty-year-old man, named Harley Davidson, has suffered from a vivid fantasy, a condition not as rare as it might seem: alongside reality, which he perceives accurately, he has created for himself a second, parallel world of dreams.

When he was seventeen, he fell in love with Blondie he saw on a magazine cover. For the next thirty-three years all he wants is to tell her that he loves her. As time goes by it seems it will never happen, but then one day She has reserved a room in the rundown hotel where Harley works as a receptionist.

Finally, he is convinced his dream will come true. In this novel, we become acquainted with Harley's entire life - from childhood, through the demise of two marriages. We follow him on his journey to Austria, Portugal, Germany and Vietnam. It is a story of a human being who, inspired by the power of love, keeps his spirit intact against all odds and circumstances. Flavia Cosma is an award winning Romanian-born Canadian poet, author and translator. She is also an award winning independent television documentary producer, director, and writer, and has published seventeen books of poetry, a novel, a travel memoir and five books for children.

Pratt Canadian Literature during the school year Flavia was decorated with the Golden Medal and was appointed Honorary Member by the Casa del Poeta Peruano, Lima, Peru, , for her poetry and her work as an international cultural promoter. As in Flavia Cosma's whole literary production, nature isn't reduced here to the role of a neutral backdrop to the poet's life; it influences her imagination and consciousness in innumerable ways becoming a source of inspiration for a thorough studying of existing ideas and for awakening new ones.

Flavia is an expert in using nature as an adequate space for metaphors, comparisons, symbols. She humanizes nature, granting it an interior life, with the highest intensity, at the supreme level. Daniel Y. Harris holds a Master of Arts in Divinity from The University of Chicago, where he specialized in the history and hermeneutics of religion and wrote his dissertation on The Zohar. He is a three-time Pushcart Prize nominee.

Harris's new volume of poetry brings together a range of texts "older and newer" evocative of the qualms and uncertainties of our new millennium. A subtle and highly affective read. Is cyberspace the most recent iteration of the diaspora? Will the next Zohar be composed in computer code? Welcome to the Hotel Url, Daniel Y. Harris, sole owner and proprietor, where these questions-and others that the reader has yet to dream-will be answered. No need to be anxious: in less than a nanosecond, the hyperlinks elaborated in Harris's poems will whisk you from catastrophe creation to apocalypse and beyond.

Beam me up, Ezekiel! Harris combines impressive erudition with a profound awe for continuity-that the eternal energies underlying Life itself constantly re iterate and re incarnate in myriad waxing and waning forms. Ideas birth Art; Art births Ideas. In such fashion, to employ classic terms, the heart and mind forge a dynamic union resulting in both clarity of perception and depth of feeling. These are poems to be read and reread, concepts and descriptive phrases operating like portals into other worlds.

In Hyperlinks of Anxiety, Harris functions as a twenty-first century, digital alchemist, adeptly yoking the abstract and concrete, offering us singular and transformative experiences, all the while reminding us that Poetry is trans-authorial, Mystery our only true teacher. Alexander Motyl is a writer, painter, and professor. Motyl's artwork is represented on the Internet gallery, www. Sweet Snow is set in the winter of in Ukraine.

A terrible famine is raging in the countryside, while the Soviet secret police is arresting suspected spies in the cities. One day, as they are being transported to another prison, their van overturns, their guards are killed, and they are freed - to wander amidst the devastated villages, desolate landscapes, snowbound villages, and frozen corpses. As they struggle to survive, they come to grips with the horror of the famine as well as with their own delusions, weaknesses, and mortality.

Pamela L. Several children's books have been published. In The Bonsai Curator , through metaphor, myth, and fairy tale, Pam Laskin chronicles a life, from the figurative museum, into the woods, then out of that museum, into the world. But my favorite moments live in her language and imagery, like: The pines, bamboo, and plum trees In this subtly complex collection of poems, Pam Laskin takes the image of bonsai-stunted and scarred into beauty through deliberate human artifice-and makes it a metaphor of being mothered, smothered and "wretchedly loved. Trofimenko, and Walter May.

Dmytro Pavlychko has been an editor, translator, literary critic, film scriptwriter, ambassador, and pro-democracy political figure. He was born in in a rural village close to the Carpathian Mountains. In he was imprisoned at the age of 15 by the Soviets on fabricated charges for alleged activities on behalf of the Ukrainian Insurgent Army. He has published twenty collections of poetry, as well as several books of poetry translations and literary criticism.

In Pavlychko received the Shevchenko Prize, the most prestigious literary award in Ukraine. Pavlychko served as ambassador to Slovakia from and later to Poland from He was elected a member of the Ukrainian parliament in He has received the designation of Hero of Ukraine from the Ukrainian government as well as honorary doctorates from Lviv National University and Warsaw University. He continues to reside in the capital city of Kyiv and remains active in public life. In the tradition of poet-statesmen Neruda and Seferis, Pavlychko writes about his twin passions, love and history. Courageous, direct, and plain-spoken, he has long deserved a place on the international literary stage and Michael Naydan's skillfully edited selections should confirm it.

Bob Hartley was raised on the West Side of Chicago. He has been, among other things, a writer, actor, singer, teacher, bartender, mail room clerk, and soap mold washer. He currently makes his living as a respiratory therapist and lives in Pittsburgh with his wife and two children. Following Tommy is his first novel. Following Tommy tells the story of the O'Days, two young brothers living in an Irish American, working class neighborhood on Chicago's West Side in the 's. As thieves they are the bane of the neighborhood until the arrival of the first African American family. These characters pack-a-punch to the gut: tough, perceptive and shrewd.

An unforgettable read. In Hartley's novel, set in the heartland of America, we dive deeply into disturbing pathos of intriguing and relatable characters. His keen narrative balances so the lively dialogue, and we feel we know, or at the very least, can relate to so much of his book. I urge you to read this remarkable debut, "Following Tommy.

Ofi Press has archived its Following Tommy review: Here is the new link. Roger W. Hecht grew up in Wheaton, Maryland, in the suburbs of Washington, D. Roger earned an M. Hecht's Talking Pictures is a vivid book of poems which draws us to " The taking and the "talking! I return to Talking Pictures with pleasure. The variations Hecht employs in the poems' shapes and cadences intrigue. Hecht's vocal and evocative collection, Talking Pictures , collects all right, is stuffed with stuff. The things not poems exactly and not so much prose either but some hybrid unbranded entity collected here have a thing for thing-ness.

It is as if Hecht has constructed an elaborate yet elegant filter that slows the speed of light, turning it into a rich syrup, a saturated plasma, and gorgeous chunks of heretofore unknown matter materialize out of the either or ether. Picture that! Armand-Erpf Translation prize, N. From the Forward Poets have been playing with forms since the beginning of printed poetry. Diana Der-Hovanessian in her twenty years as a visiting poet in the Massachusetts schools found her students, especially younger ones, not only were fascinated by the forms, but enjoyed shaping their own.

Thomas, London Times Literary Supplement. A five-time Pushcart Prize nominee, he has published a book, ten chapbooks, and two e-books of poetry and edited Touched by Eros , an anthology of erotic verse. He holds a B. He lives in Greenwich Village, with his wife, Cheryl. George Held's new collection of sonnets, After Shakespeare , is, at every turn, funny, surprising, and sharply observed. In poem after poem, Held follows Ezra Pound's injunction and "makes it new.

I love the way Held reinvents poetic tradition here and the way these poems, as he writes in "Discord," bring "joy beyond harmonic motion. Beginning with his cheeky title a chronological placement rather than a stylistic description there is much to enjoy and admire in this new collection of sonnets from George Held. It is as though the awareness of his own belatedness is liberating to the poet, allowing him to explore all manner of interesting topics in a variety of sonnet forms and styles.

Anyone interested in the vitality and accomplishment of the contemporary sonnet will want George Held's After Shakespeare. You're the thing with feathers, flying skyward To inspire us when we lack the divine Afflatus, lifting our spirits, like prime Vintage or even swill like Thunderbird. You're what springs eternal in the human Breast, though eternity remains unproved, Just hyperbole to cheer an unloved One or fodder for some preacher's sermon.

But skeptical as we may be, inured To loss of jobs and sinking stock prices, Unfaithful friends and false mistresses, Past the point where pride can still be injured, Ears still prick up to your springtime twitter, Unhibernating souls long in winter. This was penned by Mike less than a month from when he left us. In this book we try to show you a picture of Mike's early life in Plymouth and his family Beginnings.

How his poetry evolved from the dark to tell us about things which he believed were wrong and should be changed, especially the wrongs done against "Native Americans" and the warehousing of kidney patients into dialysis units Blooming. In October of Mike knew that his time was coming to an end and this book includes seven poems written during the last months before his death Endings.

Mike had almost unpublished poems. In his final months he put some of them in collections on his computer in what he called books. Most of the poems in this volume were under the heading of The Book of Arrows ; thus, our title. Jack and Nancy. Mike Amado was the bravest of poets. Not only for his writing, but also for the way he lived. He took on his doomed life with poetry of honesty and hope. The few times I was fortunate to meet him he was, outwardly, a happy man, not mutually exclusive from his suffering.

Moreover he was a deep thinker and writer of great poetry. He truly was a fighter for those who needed a champion and against the illness to which he finally succumbed. His legacy is that bravery, his poetic career and this book of poems. The Book of Arrows. No kidding. Mike Amado filled his quiver, took aim, and let these poems fly like his life depended on it. It did. An arrow for school which he loathed, often sick, embarrassed in pants from the irregular store, so he learned to learn on my own.

Arrows for an awkward adolescence of denim jackets, tight jeans, mohawks, and heavy metal all beaten on his teenage passion, the drums! An arrow for European invaders, protesting, dressing and dancing in used regalia at the pow wow. Arrow after arrow for the disease that chased him down from the age of seventeen, challenging death, Who says the story ends? Who says indeed and Mike Amado wasn't giving in without having his say.

I never understood when someone called a poet or poem brave. These poems are not acts of bravery, the living of the life of these poems is what's brave, a life of dreaming, loving, protesting, drumming, writing, standing on stage as the Spoken Word Warrior. Mike Amado has left us an astounding body of work that is both insightful and unsettling. Each poem reads like a memoir tinged with an a keen awareness of the unspoken. To call his work compelling is an understatement. Mike's poems live. Mike's poems sing. Denis Emorine is the author of short stories, essays, poetry, and theater.

He was born in in Paris and studied literature at the Sorbonne University of Paris. His theatrical output has been staged in France and Russia. He has a great interest for Eastern Europe. Judith Skillman is the author of thirteen full-length books of poetry. Certainty is erased as the reader is immersed in a mercurial blend of myth and personal history.

Each cherub embodies a nymph, the exotic the familiar. Using crafty fluctuation, these poems dislocate the reader so that firm ground is not an option. Skillman's world is strangely fluid, yet layered with complexities that complement one moment and subtly contradict the next. The White Cypress asks us to ponder the residual problems of naming our "sins. Judith Skillman's poems are finely hewn, well-balanced, and compelling. Whatever her subject matter-ants, a lemon, September, a harbor, a plum tree-her pieces unfurl, progress, and culminate seamlessly; narratives, portraiture, and commentaries infused with palpable images, lines destined for epigraphy.

This is poetry worth reading and rereading. Skillman's poem embrace matter rather than meaning, and all manner of matter-from the Hellenic to the Hebrew, from the heroic to the quotidian. All are pumped and stitched into the skillful skein of Skillman's work. As one privileged to hold a front-row seat to the blossoming of Judith Skillman as an award-winning poet, I am always happy to treat myself to more of the apt language that she uses to illuminate the intricacies of human relationships.

I saw the flowering of this talent, and am happy to add my voice as witness to its craft and its power. Morris Berman is an essayist, novelist, social critic, and cultural historian. Thanks for the link. It's the first time I ever saw anyone claim RFK was shot with a. Maybe next you can find a person out there who believes Ethel was the second shooter, and have an expert marriage counselor prove him wrong. Which of the 'conspiracy writers' ever claimed Thane Cesar fired a.

All of the 'conspiracy writers' I've ever heard of have all expressed suspicions of Cesar because of the fact that he owned a. The next time you post may I make the suggestion you first of all get your facts right. It may prevent you from looking so foolish. Larry Sturdivan is an acclaimed and recognized expert on wound ballistics. He has a bachelor of science in physics from Oklahoma State University and a master of science in statistics from the University of Delaware.

He worked at the U. He has held positions from bench-level research to management, and he was the associate technical director for technology at Edgewood. He wrote the majority of the casualty criteria for bullets, fragments, etc. In , as a senior researcher, he was made the U. He is currently a consultant in mathematical and statistical modeling for LMS Scientific Applications. You people are funny. Is this your plan for dispelling all these silly conspiracy theories Yeah, that should do it. Maybe next you can prove Kennedy was actually in the hotel when he was shot, and leave all those 'Kennedy-double' conspiracy writers looking like fools.

Ayton, Agreed. I look forward to reading your book. Having just co-authored a book on the causes of war in the international system just published by Rowman and Littlefield I appreciate the hard work and commitment that such an endeavor requires. In our case, it involved nearly 6 years of blood, sweat and tears only a slight exageration! Peace, Shalom, and Ma Salema. Mr Robinson, I did not conclude that advocating a violent solution to the plight of the Palestinians necessarily led to the conclusion that that is why he killed Kennedy.

You would have to take the evidence as a whole concerning Sirhan's motives to understand why it was RFK he chose and what reason he had to assassinate an American leader. I believe that I have given much of my time in answering your quesitons but they cannot go on ad infinitum - I'm afraid you'll have to read my book as much of what you are positing is addressed in the book and far too long to repeat in a forum like this. However, I want to thank you for introducing some excellent points in your posts and some sensible and civil arguments which seem to be missing in other forums I have agreed to participate in.

Sir, I am aware that Sirhan offered cookies and juice to Clark, invited people into his house to play board games, etc. The very fact that he befriended the garbage man and spent some considerable time with people with whom his contact was otherwise superficial, and who were not from his own age cohort, might be an indicator of emotional or psychological problems.

However, since it is not possible for me to prove that Clark's testimony may not have been percent accurate, I will concede the point although it could be argued that the very fact of reporting such a conversation and testifying to it in a court of law MIGHT be indicative of a desire to insert himself into this historic event. As for Dr. McBroom's statement, it is true that when he was interviewed on ABC after the shooting he claimed to have heard Sirhan or as he described him "A man in working-class clothes" say "I did it for my country. In addition, as you state and I appreciate your honesty , Jess Unruh later admitted that he very well may have misheard Sirhan's supposed statement to the effect that he had done for his country.

One of the problems one runs into in attempting to sort through witness statments in such an emotionally-charged case is that often times individuals on the scene get at best a partial, and at worst an incorrect, view of what is happening around them. For example, you can have a reporter Piers Anderton who is literally standing right next to another reporter Andrew West , but Anderton's "reality" Kennedy laying on the floor after being shot, but Anderton being so oblivious to the shooter that he asked an individual who was attempting to assist Paul Schrade if that individual knew who the shooter was is different from West's "reality" being aware that Kennedy was shot, but also being keenly aware of the struggle with Sirhan.

Under such circumstances, even if a witness has the best intentions of being honest, his or her view of "reality" is incomplete at best. Finally, Sirhan may very well have advocated a violent solution to the plight of the Palestinians; again, however that does not necessarily lead to the conclusion that that is why he killed RFK. How would any mentally and emotionally-centered person calculate that by murdering Robert Kennedy he could end the plight of the Palestinians?

Alvin Clark's integrity has not been seriously challenged apart from the points I raised earlier. His story did not change nor did he try to embellish it. Other members of the family often saw Clark and Sirhan together. It all seemed a little pathetic on Sirhan's behalf as he used to rush out with cookies and juice to greet Clark when he saw the garbage truck in the area.

Additionally, a search of contemporaneous newspaper accounts of the period indicates Clark did not seek publicity following the trial nor did he try to exploit his 'star witness' status for financial reward. Sirhan did indeed shout out the motive for the crime Words to the effect, 'I did it for my country' according to two contemporaneous witness accounts - those of Dr Marcus McBroom and Jesse Unruh. Unruh's account may be challenged as he expressed some confusion about what he actually said - but not so McBroom. Furthermore, there is a wealth of evidence,stemming from statements made by friends, family and PCC students to prove that Sirhan did indeed believe in a violent solution to the Palestinian problem and he voiced those sentiments long before the assassination.

Sir, We can quibble over Alvin Clark's testimony which, while given under oath, has always seemed to me to be a bit too "on the nose" in terms of a future assassin bluntly revealing his plans to someone weeks in advance. I have always suspected that this may have been an instance where an individual wanted to insert himself into the history books by claiming to have such a conversation with the suspect.

Again, I have no way to prove that was the case with Mr. Clark--it's just a hunch. Actually, in some ways I don't think you and I are all that far apart here in terms of Sirhan's motivations. Again, it is clearly true that he held anti-semitic views, that he resented the United States, and yes, that he was frustrated with RFK because he was a politician who seemed sensitive to the plight of every downtrodden people in the world except the Palestinians.

However, it is also true that probably hundreds of thousands if not millions of Americans, including a number of Arab-Americans, held similar views in I think the core explanation hinges on the fame issue, which you raise. Precisely because RFK was so famous, he was the most attractive target; so far you and I are on a very similar track. However, it is my opinion that it was certain aspects of Sirhan's personality that explain why he is the one person among the millions who held similar political views who chose the route of assassination. In my opinion, Sirhan was extremely frustrated by the fact that he lived in a society in which many individuals treated him with what he perceived to be a lack of respect, despite the fact that he Siran believed himself to be intellectually superior to such individuals.

Killing someone of RFK's notoriety gave Sirhan the ultimate revenge against society. One other point: there is some evidence that the notion that the assassination was driven by Sirhan's commitment to the Arab cause was not something which he seems to have emphasized in the immediate aftermath of his arrest.

Rather, there is some evidence that once he learned that others in the Arab-American community were trying to spin the shooting in that direction, and once his lawyers latched on to that explanation, Sirhan himself bought into it because at THAT point he began to see that it might make him a heroic figure in the eyes of some. Mr Robinson, I really don't think the airing of the documentary is crucial in determining whether or not Sirhan had an extreme animus towards RFK or why he eventually chose RFK as his target.

Sirhan was an avid reader of political periodicals and could not have failed to notice that RFK met with the Israeli Premier, Levi Eshkol, in January and expressed his support for Israel. Following the television broadcast Sirhan continued to express his hatred for Robert Kennedy. During the two well-publicised primary contests in Oregon and California RFK expressed his views of total commitment to Israel. We are committed to defying any attempt to destroy Israel, whatever the source. And we cannot and must not let that commitment waver.

He asked for it. He should have been smarter than that. You know, the Arabs had emotions. He knew how they felt about it. So why did Sirhan choose RFK? Initially, Sirhan would likely have been satisfied with any opportunity to kill a leading American politician. At one point, he even had UN Ambassador Goldberg in his sights.

Sirhan said he considered killing Vice President Humphrey. However, in the years between and , American political culture had been dominated by the idea of a Kennedy Dynasty and myths surrounding JFK's assassination. Year after year books, movies, television documentaries, and political news stories gave a cult-like status to JFK's assassin, Lee Harvey Oswald.

Sirhan, too, desired fame. Killing any of the other candidates would certainly have given him status throughout the Arab world. But his true target had an even greater symbolism attached to it. Sirhan would become the "Second Kennedy Assassin. It was no accident that Sirhan set his sights on the candidate who was the brother of the martyred president.

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  • It was no accident that Sirhan chose the candidate who was most likely to become the next president. Sir, Thank you for your reply to my previous message. Indeed, I am aware of Sirhan's connections with the campus groups you mentioned. Furthermore, I am aware of some anti-semitic statements he made prior to the assassination, and of his underlying resentment towards the United States.

    I do not deny that these sentiments had something to do with the shooting. On the other hand, it is undoubtedly true that any number of public figures in were professing their support for Israel. This then begs the question--why choose RFK as a target? I know there is some discrepency over the date on which the RFK documentary that supposedly set Sirhan off actually aired.

    If, however, it aired AFTER the infamous entry in his notebook of May 18, then it seems to me that it is highly unlikely that RFK's support for Israel was the final tipping point in driving Sirhan to choose assassination. Mr Robinson, Thank you for your eminently sensible comments. I am not tying Sirhan in with any Palestinian terrorist group - in fact there is no evidence to suggest any connection despite author Peter Evans' attempts to prove otherwise.


    There is no evidence that Sirhan met with any terrorist group representatives, but the Arab community in the Los Angeles area gave its wholehearted support to a violent solution the Palestinian problem. According to writer James H. Sirhan was no different from many assassins of the past who had multiple motives for their crimes. He was virulently anti-American and anti-semitic. Mel Ayton. Mr Moore, I really don't think there is anything 'curious' about Steve's research at all.

    I had two 'teams' of researchers carrying out the research into the 'Pruszynski Tape'. They also had an opportunity to examine the digitized version of the tape. Everything they learnt about the tape will be published in my book 'The Forgotten Terrorist'. Their 'report' consists of letters to each other and to me. There isn't anything relevant in the correspondence that is omitted from Steve's article or my book. During Steve's research, which lasted over a period of many months, he was in touch with JP French Associates, a British acoustics independent laboratory in England.

    Their conclusions are mutually supportive. As to your comments that Barber, Zimmerman and O'Dell carried out their work for 'very little return' - HNN is quoted extensively around the world and referred to as an 'academic history website'. I can assure you Steve's work has been widely disseminated and has attracted the interest of the Discovery Channel, the National Geographic Channel and two independent documentary makers in the UK who work with Channel 4. I hope this satisfies your curiosity. Melvin, You are still taking the coward's way out by not citing proof for your ridiculous claim that it is an established fact Thane Eugene Cesar was carrying a.

    It would appear that you are some kind of unbalanced individual who has an inability to understand the simplest and established facts about this case. If your arguments are so strong concerning Cesar and his alleged. You have reduced your arguments to the level of schoolyard taunts in your attempts to lure me into your pathetic world of titles and so-called prequalifications before being allowed to speak out how very British of you ; a world that propagandists who fear those who disagree with them and dismiss all of them as conspiracy forum members love so much; a world in which logic, reason and truth is abandoned in favor of protecting one's staked out public position and business interests.

    I believe the opportunity for rational debate within this forum has been abused by your posts. No doubt you will, at some point, attempt to have the last ridiculous comment on this matter perhaps by coming back to this page in a few weeks when it's safe because I might not be hanging around it anymore then but I, for one, have had enough of debating fools like you Willis, You are still taking the coward's way out by not revealing anything about yourself and who you are despite my repeated requests.

    If your arguments are so strong I suggest you find a reputable media outlet who will accept your 'research'. You have reduced your arguments to the level of schoolyard taunts in your attempts to lure Steve Barber into your pathetic and rather silly juvenile world; a world that conspiracy forum members love so much; a world in which logic and reason is abandoned in favor of fantasy, speculation, and rumor. No doubt you will have the last ridiculous comment on this matter but I,for one, have had enough of debating fools like you.

    Ayton, I've read Moldea's book. It offers not one shred of conclusive evidence that Cesar was carrying a. Not a shred. Moldea's book is a love poem to Gene Cesar just as most of your posts are love notes to Moldea. All Moldea's book does on this particular subject is quote Cesar's claims and then blindly believes in them.

    Does it really need to be explained to you and Moldea that merely quoting back Cesar's claims is NOT conclusive evidence? Apparently so. Which of course is itself thundering evidence that spending any money on a book you write about this case is surely money wasted. It is as I have said, Mel. No one on this planet has ever been - or ever will be - able to provide conclusive evidence that Cesar was carrying a. Because no such conclusive evidence exists.

    You're not even bothering to lift a finger to try to provide such conclusive evidence. Simply because you know you can't. Instead, you're taking refuge in bosom buddy Dan's book, hoping that no one will actually make the effort to check on this matter but I have checked on it, my friend, and as I've already said, Moldea's book also does not provide such conclusive evidence.

    So you are copping out, of course. Just as I predicted you would, Blowhard. And therefore my point stands: Steve Barber's article is absolutely dead wrong in suggesting that it is an established fact that Thane Eugene Cesar was carrying a. Rather than having you answer for him, Barber ought to answer this one himself instead of hiding behind you.

    Willis, You have again not established exactly who you are, nor have you provided readers with any information which would persuade them you have some kind of superior knowledge to Steve Barber, Dan Moldea or I. This is why you feel you are on safe ground - you are an anonymous entity who feels safe to post any comments he likes without fear of exposure.

    Readers will judge for themselves. They will also recognize you have not answered my questions pertaining to your background, especially those questions about your 'authoritative' crededentials. The proof in the matter, as you harp on about, of Thane Cesar's participation in the purported conspiracy to assassinate Robert Kennedy, rests with Dan Moldea's excellent research - read Moldea's book and you will realize that Cesar was telling the truth. It is now an established fact, at least for those historians who have some kind of training in recognizing the difference between speculation, innuendo, guesswork as opposed to concrete, hard facts.

    You appear in your posts to be a person who refuses to engage in rational and adult debate. You have adopted child-like expressions which ultimately detract from any valid arguments you think you may be making. Your attempts to be witty don't seem to work. Ayton, So now you have swung degrees to the opposite end by suddenly claiming that it IS an established fact Cesar was carrying a.

    Very sad. Established, you claim. Okay, prove it. You heard me old chap. Prove it right now. Reply to this post with actual proof. Reply with unquestionable facts that prove to us that it is indeed an established fact that Cesar was carrying a. I'll wager anyone any amount of money that not only will you not be able to do this, but that you won't even try. Instead, you will try to change the subject. And of course it will work because we - non-experts among the Great Unwashed - who do not breathe your rarefied air or sip your delicious teas are so easily thrown off course and fooled, now aren't we?

    No, not this time, Mel. This time, we will make sure you stay on point and either support what you're claiming with unquestioned facts or expose yourself as the blowhard you really are. When you respond in your next post, Mel, don't just simply report to us that such-and-so is what Cesar claimed. We're not stupid. We know that just because Cesar claimed he had a. So you must do better than simply report what Cesar said in or or or You must cite proof. Don't just go on about how the guards always carried. Again, we're not stupid. Even if it were standard practice for the guards to carry.

    The simple fact is, we don't know whether Cesar followed standard practice on that night or broke from it. So prove to us it has been established as actual fact that Cesar was indeed carrying a. Proof, Mel, proof. We eagerly await your next post and, more importantly, we await - hmmm, what's that word again? If you fail to provide such proof beyond statements made by Cesar and beyond standard weapons practice of the guards , then you will be unwittingly proving all of my points.

    Willis, If that's your real name, which I suspect it isn't because people like you tend to hide behind a mask of anonymity, your bluster confirms one thing to readers of HNN - you, like other conspiracy mongerers post nonsense like this to sow seeds of doubt on every piece of evidence then run away from it when the truths are established. In your obviously childish, anti-English and pompous rant you have proven also that you neither have the intellect nor qualifications to post rational arguments on sites such as these.

    You may be better suited to the looney conspiracy sites which I'm sure you get most of your information from. You even try and hide the motive for your post - a motive which centers around the need to spread doubt where non exists and use it as an opportunity to attack anyone who dares to challenge your pet conspiracy theories.

    And who is Tom Willis? A non-entity who calls Steve Barber a joker because he dares to mention an establshed fact - Cesar was carrying his. Again, I challenge you to give readers your credentials. Hey Ayton, Can't you follow a simple line of thought? Sit down, pour yourself a spot of tea, calm your nerves and read my note again. Even you will do that in a calmer state, even you should see that I was making only one point in my note: That Barber incorrectly presented it as an established fact that Cesar was carrying a.

    Clearly this is not an established fact as you yourself admit. So why yell at me about it? We are not in disagreement over this one basic point I made. You've been over this territory enough times. You know the drill. Cesar claimed he had a. That claim alone doesn't prove he had a. His weapon was never examined that night.

    For Barber to state it as an established, unquestioned fact that Cesar had a. Lies or guesswork especially on an issue that is so easily researched are immediate signs of a person who is NOT to be taken seriously. Thus my point about Barber being a fool -- my one and only point in my note -- stands. Your response reveals various points to now be made about you, Ayton. Chief among them, that you do not think very clearly.

    If you had a clear and rational mind, you would have understood I was making only the one point and no other points. Instead, your rampant imagination got the better of you and you spewed several untruths concerning my post: You addressed me directly on the matter of Cesar keeping his. You suggested I had some interest in doing some kind of conspiracy mongerer shuffle by going on about polygraphs, when my note mentions nothing about polygraphs or anything close.

    Robert F. Kennedy Jr.

    Lay down your tea. Go back. Read my note again. Where in my note do I accuse Cesar of anything. Whether I personally believe in Cesar's guilt or innocence is an opinion I have not expressed. I only make one single point, and that is that it is not an established fact that he was carrying a. For a so-called expert, as you proudly claim to be, you are quite a muddled-minded piece of work. You establish that very thing as fact by your own response to my note. It takes no special qualification on my part or that of any HNN member to see this clearly. In an interview with Dan Moldea Thane Cesar said he remained in the Embassy Room for more than an hour after the shooting.

    Cesar said, "I was getting ready to go home and I thought to myself 'I wonder why nobody's questioned me' I went to a police officer. I said 'Don't you really think you need my statement? And from there they took me down to Rampart [Division]. I thought it was a necessary thing.