The hunger was the woman with a friendly, foreign name-tag.
That busy Saturday.
A miracle healer, as pale as milk, passed through the city –
a reminder that we all had our role to play in the war.
For a moment, his voice stopped the curious shoppingbagscrowd-
echo between tall cement buildings.
A sudden rain followed, baptised my sleeping bag,
in the queue at the Lower Street Food Bank.
The history sliced a nearby road in tiny squares of holy bread.
– published in International Times, available here
I live in a round house across the road
and every day I wave the invisible white flag
just to distract you from writing so many letters.
Other times, all I do is stare at your reflected image,
bent over the desk,
thinking whether your back is broken,
having to bear so many words.
You do not lift your eyes up,
never see anything but yourself.
The only time you stand up and walk to the door
is to refill the glass with sand.
You do not receive news from the outside world
you do not know we live in times of peace now.
©Maria Stadnicka 2017
For more information about Andrew Keenan’s work, check https://www.andrewkeenanphotography.com/
It is a great privilege to be a guest at ‘Tears in the Fence’ poetry festival this year. 15th-17th September 2017.
I will be reading from my latest collection Imperfect and discuss the relationship between journalism and censorship as well as the role of the poetic discourse within the current socio-political climate.
This year’s Festival weekend will be at The White Horse and Village Hall, Stourpaine and The Festival’s theme is the politics of engagement.
Further details and programme to follow.
Thank you David Caddy and ‘Tears in the Fence’ Festival and I am looking forward to it.
(for Timothy Snyder)
At first, we reduced the water supply.
The poisoned city wells dried up.
The light burnt the crops.
At sunset, everything crumbled into a black peace.
Then somehow we got used to an economy of words.
We collected ideas and thoughts in one book.
We spent the days memorising chapters.
For those trapped in the outer world,
for the privilege of staying alive.
Published today in ‘I am not a silent poet’ https://iamnotasilentpoet.wordpress.com/2017/07/12/economy-by-maria-stadnicka/
with many thanks to the editor Reuben Woolley.
Pentru cititorii in limba romana, saptamana aceasta a sosit cu o surpriza minunata. O pagina de poezie publicata in LitArt publicatie lunara de cultura, tiparita la Tg. Mures, sub egida onorifica a filialei locale a Uniunii Scriitorilor.
Multumiri redactorului-sef Adrian Armand Giurgea si echipei redactionale pentru promovarea valorilor culturale romanesti.
Pentru mine are o semnificatie speciala. 14 ani de cand am publicat ultima oara in Romania. 14 ani lungi, foarte lungi, de absenta si de dor. Editia tiparita este distribuita in Romania si poate fi accesata electronic in format pdf aici:
For Romanian readers, this week arrives with a beautiful surprise. Nine poems published in LitArt, Tg. Mures, Romania, under the Romanian Writers Association patronage. Gracious thanks to the editor-in-chief Adrian Armand Giurgea as well as the whole editorial team for the great work you are doing in promoting the cultural values of our generation, in Romania and abroad.
This has a particular significance for me, as it marks 14 years since the publication of my last poem written in Romanian. 14 long years.
The magazine is available in print and online, downloadable here:
Photograph: @Georgiana Calinescu-Barber
A poem for ‘Europa‘ by Andrew Heath https://www.amazon.co.uk/Europa-Andrew-Heath/dp/B01LYHL716
For further information on Andrew Heath’s music, please click here: https://andrewheath.bandcamp.com/