May 31-June 6, 2010: Changming Yuan and David Roche

Changming Yuan
yuans@shaw.ca

 

Bio (auto)

Changming Yuan, twice Pushcart nominee and author of Chansons of a Chinaman (2009) and Politics and Poetics (2009), grew up in rural China, published several books before moving to Canada, currently works as an independent tutor in Vancouver, and has had poems appearing in Barrow Street, Best Canadian Poetry, Cortland Review, London Magazine, Poetry Super Highway and more than 250 other literary publications worldwide Visit Changming Yuan on the web here: http://bquest-yuan.blogspot.com/

The following work is Copyright © 2010, and owned by Changming Yuan and may not be distributed or reprinted in any form whatsoever without written permission from the author.


Hyper Grammatical Poems:
Pronoun

Like a stage play
Reenacting an experienced
Or un-experienced
Moment in space
A place in time
Before an eager audience
To make their daily existence
Less repetitive
Less cumbersome
Less boring

Hyper Grammatical Poems:
Conjunction

A marriage broker
Coordinating
Males and females
For sexual intimacy

Or subordinating
A car, a computer, a house
To a home owner

Or correlating
Two ideas, two emotions
In a human relation

 

_______________________________

Alex Stolis
changeways@earthlink.net

 

Bio (auto)

David Roche lives and works near Boulder, Colorado and has been writing poetry for over 20 years His creative resources are fed by music, photography, meditation and the awe inspiring landscapes of Colorado.

The following work is Copyright © 2010, and owned by changeways@earthlink.net and may not be distributed or reprinted in any form whatsoever without written permission from the author.

 

I Still Believe

When they told me at the age of four
That my unseen best friend
Was only imaginary,
I still believed
When we moved and changed schools
Four times in three years, and I
Was the new kid and was teased unmercifully,
I still believed
When I first fell in love with dark haired, 5 year old Kathleen
and felt that the world revolved around her
And she spurned me,
I still believed
When I drove through
South Carolina in 1962 and saw
Black kids and families living out of refrigerator cartons,
I still believed
When I saw the picture
Of the naked Vietnamese girl
Running from her burning, napalm cloak,
I still believed
When they shot JFK, MLK, and RFK
And said, in all their pompous feigned innocence,
“It was a lone gunman,”
I still believed
When the hippies and the yippies and counterculture types
Were bludgeoned and pushed through plate glass windows
By the police, in Chicago, at the Convention, in 1968,
I still believed
When I returned home in Akron, Ohio on
May 4, 1970
And four young kids were shot dead at Kent State,
I still believed
When my best friend from grade school,
Roly-poly, always smiling Joe,
Returned from Vietnam a broken, spiritless man,
I still believed
When our President, elected by the largest mandate in history,
Went on national TV and denied being a “crook”,
(But in fact he was)
I still believed
When I was divorced and my children
Were taken from me
And I was left with absolutely nothing,
I still believed
When Ollie North lied and we saw Contras shooting peasants,
Killing thousands of dead Sandinistas and their children
And Reagan with his smile and his glibness and what did he know,
I still believed
When Gorbachev said, “The time has come,”
And the Wall fell,
And when Havel and Mandela
Were released from their cells of punishment and degradation
And were returned to their people and allowed to lead,
And when one young man
In Tiananmen Square in Beijing stood
Alone
Before a steel fisted array of tanks and guns
And when his friends, using only paper-mache,
Embodied their hopes
In a handmade Statue of Liberty,
I still believed
And when the corporations came and they pillaged and burned
The first growth forests of Brazil
For grain, for cows, for hamburgers
And when they raped the ocean’s depth
For food, for fish, for pets, for cats,
And when they said that the yellow, eye burning sulfur fumes
We breathed as we drove through the Flats
Outside Cleveland
Were “no big deal”,
I still believed
And when the first gay man coughed and questioned the
Burgeoning black lesions that were covering his body,
And he was dismissed and ignored,
I still believed
And as his gay sisters and brothers were shunned
And reviled and spat upon
And when they were told their love could only be “civil”
And not blessed by God
Because of who they sleep with,
And when these loving human beings were raped of their dignity,
Because of who they sleep with,
And when Matthew Shepard was bludgeoned and wrapped
In barbed wire and murdered,
Because of who he slept with,
I still believed
And when we all turned our heads
As lies and truth-twisting by spin doctors
Made weapons of mass destruction disappear
And preemptive killing for oil became our national policy
And as the bodies mounted up, ours and theirs,
men and women, dead soldiers with families drenched in tears
and maimed, burned children whose eyes
Only held one question -“Why”,
And our collective greed began to really outweigh our compassion,
I still believed
And now,
Today,
This endless evil, coupled with our bland indifference, this
Concert of killing
Still goes on and on and on and on and on,
In Iraq, in Liberia and Afghanistan
In Iran and Korea
In Israel and Gaza
In Mexico City and Rio
In Toronto and Vancouver and Honolulu
And Detroit and New York and St Louis and Dallas
And Denver, and Boulder,
Getting nearer to my town,
Because today Death
Strides vigorously, and coldly across this planet,
And I still believe
Because,
Truly you must know this and
Sense it in the most sacred precincts,
The Holy Chambers
Of your Soul:
There is a Force, a Power that also is walking the planet today,
An inexorable undeniable Power
And It
Is you and I
And every living being who
Still believes that surpassing and transforming
All these days and months and years and endless
Eons of pain and loss and suffering
Is Something so great and powerful
And passionately compelling
That the very stars themselves
Stand down
In awe
Before It:
The soft, trusting smile
And the warm beating heart
Full of love and hope and dreams undreamt
Of my neighbor’s little girl
Because,
You see,
Four year old
Blond, blue-eyed
Cassandra Marie
Still
Believes!