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I'm not talking to myself, I'm having an
editorial board meeting
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The theme for
this issue is a no-brainer. To all of us in the northern hemisphere,
its finally here, spring. The days are getting longer and, hopefully,
longer. We say farewell to the winter months and eagerly embrace the change
of season. Its the season of renewal, the budding of trees, the return
of the birds, life becomes animated again.
I suppose I
should say something about surviving a harsh winter, but I can't.
I don't know what winter was like where you are but harsh and long really
don't describe it. Here the winter was mild with only about a month
of snow and cold. I was disappointed because I enjoy winter activity;
skating, x-country skiing and sledding. Just did that for about a
month.
My favourite
event this winter was watching the lunar eclipse. Out in the cold
night air, everything seemed to be clearer and crisper. I watched
the brightness of the moon slowly become darker as it inched towards totality.
Then the moment came, when the last edge of the moon went behind the shadow
of the earth. Instead of the bright glow, it took on a reddish hue.
Why am I writing
about a winter event. It's spring; the contributors for this issue
bring us some thoughts of life and renewal. Thanks all, you make
this ezine possible.
If you wonder
about the headline, I actually don't talk to myself, I just fill my notepad
with pages and pages of scribble. From this scribbling, comes the
ideas and outlines for this issue and future issues of the zine.
There's a special announcement in the end, so read through so you can read
all about it.
back
Reviews
Anne
Hebert's book, "Am I disturbing you?" opens with the death of the young
Quebecois woman Delphine. As the narrator looks at her lifeless body,
he considers the circumstance of fate that drew her into the life of him
and his friend. The novel is set in Paris and it deals with the narrator,
Edouward and his friend Stephan. They encounter Delphine while sitting
at a cafe, she comes to them in much distress, she is seeking the father
of her unborn child. She is confused, angry, distraught, lost and
has no place to stay. All she has is the clothes and a suitcase.
She is seeking Philip, the married father of her child. She complains
he has deserted her,leaving with his wife. The friends tell her to
stay the night, and from that moment onward, their lives are intwined.
The book, translated
by Sheil Fischman examines the swirl of passion and emotions that come
from Delphine and overwhelm the friends. They become involved in
her search for the father. The meeting between Delphine, Patrick
and his wife is the climax of the book. What happens afterward is
shocking and left me reading the section to understand all that was taking
place.
This is a well
written book, it is a small book, more the size of a novella. The
conversation and passions are very real and expressed with equal passion.
It is worth taking the time to find and read.
back
Poetry
This
issue features the work of three new poets. enjoy their work
Like
a flash of lightening, it came by suprise,
the
sight of her smile and the look in her eyes,
the
feeling I got as my stomach had rose,
had
soared through my head and down to my toes.
She
captured my heart and we shared it together,
this
feeling we had, will last us forever.
This
was love, I knew it was real,
with
the look on our face and the way we would feel.
Nothing
will change I will always be there,
to
listen to you and give my care.
Tom
Peisel
Tom left this
poem on the Message board. This is another way to submit poetry to
"Above Ground Testing".
back
Spring
arives and with it...
Her
seductive grey eyes
look
through my disguise
disarming
my sword and shield
seeing
the fears concealed
i
hide behind my own bravado
choosing
words like a desperado
wanting
more than i’m willing to give
progressing
through a life half lived
a
slow deliberate glance to the right
i
watch with delight
she
gathers her thought
i
try not to get caught
studying
her every move
instinctively
i approve
aware
of the subtle use of her hands
her
feminity withstands
from
my watchfulness
i
see us coalesce
uniting
our minds
lifting
the blinds
we
hid behind for protective reasons
during
the painful seasons
that
lasted too long
and
are hopefully gone
the
time feels right
to
emerge from the plight
letting
go of the past
at
long last
giving
credence to a higher power
allowing
God's plan to flower
if
it's meant to be
then
it will happen to me
and
those grey eyes
will
remove the ties
take
control
and
free my soul
March
2000 © copyright
Cindy
Higby
back
Flight
far
below
the night lies cast
across
a rolling panoply of
fresh imaginings
sparkling
gems
sprawled
festively
like
christmas on a plate
ambershining
green
gold
silver
twinkling patterned vistas
of rare unearthly cities
designed
by architects
of
other worlds
to
welcome the arrival
of kind gods
I
savor
the silence
of our wingless flight
I can feel your
almost hand
in
mine
I
so cherish
the creation
of our magic
worlds
home
and
celebration
Copyright©2000
Jan Houston
All Rights Reserved
back
On
I Write
bubbly
as a fine bouquet of champagne
bursting
as
May
flowers
in
clovered fields
giddy
as
a schoolgirl
to
glimpse perspective love
I'm
not myself at all
these
days it seems
the
sleeper
wipes
his eyes
embraces
freedom
...true
freedom
from
the gilded cage within
at
long last
he
can breathe
walk
the smoothened path
to
speak with ease
relax
white-knuckled
hands
to
float on silken songs of wind
and
on I write
at
last
the
pen is freed!
Today
I Plant A Rose
Flickering
sunlight
glances
silver
trees
a
soft scented breeze
of
lilac fills the air
today
I
dig
deep
deeper
to
plant the rose
roots
need be steady
for
this bleeding heart rose so fair
secure
the stalk
so
it may live
to
last through memories
there
will
be
no hybrids in this garden’s heart
only
sweet scented reality
and
if
I prick the finger
and
red does show
at
least I know
it
was real
so
I dig deep
to
find life’s passions.
Charlotte
Mair
back
a
cup of coffee, and a cinnamon kiss
He
stole my heart over a cup of coffee,
as
we waited for the sunrise.
But
the sun was taking his time, and, somehow we missed his entrance.
But
it didn't matter.
I
gripped the warmth of my coffee, and
as
a dim light crept across the sky,
stole
a galnce at him. But he caught me;
trapped
in his deep blue eyes.
I
looked down, into my mug.
Stared
into my coffee, and,
slowly
realized I would find nothing there.
So
I took a sip,
then
spat it back into my cup.
His
beautiful eyes questioned me; I shivered. "The coffee's
cold"
I explained-
a
nod, a look of understanding.
Suddenly,
I was aware of the cold.
I
shivered again; He led me inside.
Offered
me the warmth of his bed.
"I'll
be back in a while," he promised.
The
door closed behind him.
I
curled up beneath his blankets,
searched
the dark, and,
despite
the coffee,
drifted
into and out of sleep.
Then,
I felt the blankets lifted from my body, as he laid down beside me.
I
moved into his warmth, pressed myself against him. He
wrapped
himself about me.
I
turned into his chest,
buried
my face in the scent of shampoo and aftershave.
I
looked up,
into
his clear blue eyes-
they
invited me in.
I
closed my eyes, parted my lips,
and
accepted.
I
lost myself in his mouth,
found
myself in his mouth.
He
tasted like cinnamon.
sarah
marie graham
I found this
poem in the Poem usenet group. Sarah was gracious enough to give
me permission to copy it for this issue.
back
Dream
Free
Around me
thoughts flitter
haphazard, fluttering
an unconscious symphony.
I am the conductor,
and the night serves as the orchestra,
revealing and concealing the enigma of the mind.
At peace, I rest. Harmony
surrounds me, lulls me sweetly
into soporific clouds where pain is not even a memory.
This is what it is to free-form dream
with rhyme and reason, sight unseen.
This is the way I free-form dream,
once and done, forgotten with the sun.
--dargenhara
back
Freeze
Frame
My
eyes
can¹t
quite
open
and
just
outside
our
bedroom
window
subtle
glances
reveal
your
grace
breathing
out
cool
caresses
with
every
liquid
syllable.
John
Hulse
back
Correction:
This poem
was copied wrong in last month's issue. My apology to Janet.
Here is the correct version:
Coffee
Stains
Coffee:
Black as hell,
strong
as death,
sweet
as love.
Turkish Proverb
The
risk of romance
is
playing pretty
hyper
puppy fetch
with
a cup
of
steaming
something
staining
on
the verge
of
a fall.
Passion's
dove
in
the straw
of
a gilded cage
you've
redecorated
and
reformed as
forests
ripe
with
waterfalls
and
other shrouds
of
very unexpected lace.
by Janet I. Buck
back
Site
of the Month
I received a message
from Stephen Boyd regarding his musical style. I had opportunity
to listen to his work "morning Sunrise". His style is smooth Jazz
and I invite all of you who are interested in that style to go to his mp3
site: http://mp3.com/StevenBoyd.
A Multi-talented Keyboardist, Vocalist, Producer,
Arranger,
Songwriter
& Computer Sequencer-Programmer available for all styles of music,
both
LIVE and RECORDING.
RECORDING
EXPERIENCE: 
Recorded,
Arranged, Produced & Released sevral independent Cd's
on
independent artists, in styles of Smooth Jazz, Gospel, Pop, and R &
B.
The
most recent Cd released by SBM Productions was a Smooth Jazz Cd
titled
"ANOTHER LEVEL" featuring Steven Boyd & Rochon Westmoreland.
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Special
Announcement
As
the publisher/editor/ keeper of the espresso machine, I wish to make the
following three announcements
1)
I have not received a take-over bid from AOL-Time-Warner ( which means
I still have to get up and go to work).
2)
I have chosen as the motto for the ezines which make up the AGT family
of e-publications: "because poetry can still be dangerous".
This is to acknowledge that poetry is dangerous. It's dangerous for
the creator, since they expose their inner feelings to the world at large.
It's dangerous to the reader/listener, since words do have the power to
transform and reading works will changer your life.
3)
The April issue of Avant
Garde Times
and the May issue of "Above Ground Testing" will share the same theme,
'freedom'. I want to examine our rights to express ourselves and
the ways this expression may take form. If you wish to contribute
to either ezine, write me at: pabear_7@yahoo.com,for
this ezine, or avantgarde@angelfire.com,
for Avant Garde Times. Get radical, get inspired, and get writing.
The work in this ezine is copyright by the various
authors. Respect their right to creative ownership. "Above Ground
Testing" is copyright ©2000.
To contribute, subscribe, enquire about being "site
of the month", submit a classified ad, or just say 'hi' e-mail me
at: pabear_7@yahoo.com
https://www.angelfire.com/on/abovegroundtesting