July 5, 2012 Poetry , POETRY / FICTION










Camera Obscura


Peycho Kanev


Light, please initiate me into your

occult philosophy. Tell me where

you come from when you penetrate

the dusty window in the morning and


find me thus – staring into the nothingness.

Sometimes you show me very beautiful

things that I am still trying to comprehend.

Like a pair of beautiful female legs


semi-concealed into the twilight of

your brightly absence. How many stories

do we need so this moment could be

remembered forever?


The others have old photo albums.

The others have skies to cry beneath them.

But you can find me thus – thoughtful

and staring into the darkness of this page.







Peycho Kanev


I am drinking whiskey from a tin can –

this line sounds so much like blues,

but let me tell you the rest.

This tin can is shiny and red- oh yes,

many years ago, my grandfather,

for many years, kept his pencils inside

and some small notebook in which he

scribbled late at night. Secret notes about

his past, I presume, then just a blink

of a supernova, and he was gone. After that,

my uncle stored in it his old German ‘Luger’,

which he cleaned almost every day. Maybe he

was afraid of loosing his prolonged quarrels

with cancer and immortality, maybe he wanted

to go on his own terms. My uncle was a great

admirer of Ernest Hemingway. He was gone

one summer Sunday morning. And now the can

is mine. I pour whiskey inside and drink it sitting

in the dark. No music, no light- just me and the old

whiskey, but it has some strange taste, almost like

rust from an old pistol and fading memories of words

never written. I lift it close to my ear and I can hear

the whizzing of the chilly mistral, that so long ago

licked the skin of my father. I sigh and say to

the time in my tin can: Please scholar me as you

collar me, because everything fills- Now and then.

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  1. Pearl Ketover Prilik August 16, at 00:33

    Agree with many of the comments above - would add there is an ethereal quality to the flow of your words that gives one the impression that they are being heard rather than read - which is quite lovely. Beautiful pieces:)

  2. Jacolyne July 07, at 18:05

    Two wonderful pieces, Richard. I love the mystery of Halfway Point, and the humor in Geography. I'd like to more of your work.

  3. Mama Zen July 07, at 01:03

    The Costume just achieves the perfect mood. Wow!

  4. Laurie Kolp July 06, at 20:02

    Thanks for your kind comments and wonderful support... it means so much to me!

  5. Grant Handgis July 06, at 17:02

    Very nice pieces Richard. The flow and meter were soothing and the words filled in as texture. Good to see your poems continue to reach ever more appreciative readers.

  6. Ella July 06, at 16:59

    I love how your day unfolded and we can hear your thoughts. They dance with the ordinary is extracted with fragments of your emotions. The disconnect and connects all stirred through your view~ Wonderful! Congrats Laurie :D

  7. Sara V July 06, at 16:04

    Laurie such a gift you have for visceral images and outstanding prose. Such beautifully layered stanzas, I delight in reading them again and again. Wonderful!

  8. Patricia July 06, at 15:39

    Laurie, like your repetition in The Costume--"sit and sip and sew" so sublime!

  9. Claudsy July 06, at 13:43

    Great pair, Laurie. This is one aspect of poetry that I have little talent for. I can't quite seem to get down what it takes to do interpersonal encounters. You've definitely shown marvelous examples of how it's done well. Thank you.

  10. De Jackson July 06, at 13:35

    Laurie, these are wonderful. I love the ferocity of The Costume, ending with this soothing rhythm: "I smile, sip my coffee sit and sip and sew–." ...the demon having been exorcised, for now. :) Also love the double play in the title. And the tenderness, appreciation in That Look. Wonderful. Love your work. So happy to see it here.

  11. Marie Elena July 06, at 13:31

    Love them both, Laurie, but especially this one. Nice work, as always.


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