From rita@locust.cic.net Wed Feb 11 12:34:07 1996 Received: from emout06.mail.aol.com (emout06.mail.aol.com [198.81.10.43]) by locust.cic.net (8.7.3/8.7.3) with SMTP id MAA03597 for ; Sun, 11 Feb 1996 12:34:06 -0500 (EST) From: RepsiSK@aol.com Received: by emout06.mail.aol.com (8.6.12/8.6.12) id MAA25033; Sun, 11 Feb 1996 12:16:57 -0500 Date: Sun, 11 Feb 1996 12:16:57 -0500 Message-ID: <960211121656_419860790@emout06.mail.aol.com> To: rbryant@pictor.unm.edu Subject: Spiral Chamber Online - February, 1996 Status: RO X-Status: SPIRAL CHAMBERS ONLINE February, 1996 Issue #5 ********** *CONTENTS* ********** Introduction ...Section 1 "of mist, and sand, and glass" by Sestina Vireli ...Section 2 General Info About Spiral Chambers ...Section 3 ~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~ Spiral Chambers, issue 5, volume 1. Published monthly by the PSK Publishing Company, P.O. Box 772, Mentor, Ohio 44061. Copyright 1995 by the PSK Publishing Company. All works herein may be reprinted. In fact, reproduction of this electronic publication is encouraged, so long as the works are not altered in any way, shape or form and credit is given to both Spiral Chambers and the work's respective author. For information on reproduction rights, submission guidelines, subscription information or for general inquiries, write to: Spiral Chambers, P.O. Box 772, Mentor, Ohio 44061. Over the internet: Repsi SK@AOL.com. ~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~ ********** *Section 1* *********************** INTRODUCTION -------- Where has the month gone? By my account, only yesterday I was correcting Spiral Chambers' sending errors and answering replies to last month's column. Lo and behold, now here we are again! The year of 1996 has been a swift and deceptive little companion, to be sure. This month Spiral Chambers is varying from its normal format. Instead of featuring four or so fantastic poems of average length, this month we're singularly focusing on Sestina Vireli's grand, epic work, "of mist, and sand, and glass". The poem is so expansive and detailed, we've decided to devote this month's entire edition to its story. Next month we'll return to our regular collection of work...and with a bang, too. Some great poetry is scheduled for March, like John Tynes' "Black Light", an imperceptibly eerie take on the imperfect romance. Remember to E-mail me with any comments, suggestions or submissions of your own. I'd love to hear your criticism and possibly include your work in the column. Here's a thought for a new feature in Spiral Chambers Online: Should each installment include a letters section, where readers can voice their opinions? I'm hesitant to add more work for myself, what with the various forms of S.C., Nation magazine and the publishing company, but a truly enthusiastic response could very easily prompt me to add the section. Enjoy... The poetically inclined, Peter Scott ********** *Section 2* *********************** "of mist, and sand, and glass" -------- by Sestina Vireli OF MIST, Here in this wilderness of white whose crystal daggers pierce the curtain of my vision I wait entombed in my desire for the fancy of my will for the gown it will make of me and the places in it I will travel But you were there in a wilderness too whose breadth and height I remember in my imaginings silent in a silence wrapping like a shroud around the words that once lay between us sharp and clear and beckoning that pricked the edges of my soul and I bled raw joy for your feasting silent in your words that now fall between us in exaggerated politeness recalling the mundane details of your life as though I were some distant cousin to the tale of your reminiscences some partner in the half-truth of your other self There is in the space of this imbroglio a wildness beating through my mind a knowing and an uncertainty like a mist enveloping an immiscible landscape I once knew and now find myself lost in and into which your silence cuts through coming from all around having no dimension no direction no sound in this misty place my yearnings have led me I remain silent here and still wandering in that strange delusion questioning your forbearance the prickly obloquy of my hubris the remnants of unfeasibility swirling around my ankles tangled in the tattered remnants of a gown my telic footsteps entwine as I hold pertinaciously to that longing and I am soft and moist and open like the earth in spring What wondrous things spring from my memory curling around my thighs in smoky tendrils these were the dreams you wove all gray mist now and sullen companions revisited again and again on a crystal page as blank and empty as the moon and shining as brightly and as distant and unassailable <<<<<<<>>>>>>> AND SAND, Here in the silence of this barren landscape we must come to know crawling in the dust of our desires the secret places like water for whose lack we would die for our thirst we would destroy even one tremulous blossom our vision clouded with thirst and an immediacy of life we trample that fragile beauty beneath us giving in to the demands outside ourselves our hearts would cry See! yet our minds journey on seeking comfort and solace in things tangible We come here shod protecting our delicate footsteps from the sabulous heat of this place as it rises up into us dragging us to the heart of it wrenching our souls in perfidy to our desires we scan the distant horizon balancing the sunset glaze on our memory the promise of shade the suggestion of respite from the merciless heat that consumes us We emerge with the creatures of the night who spread wings and seek with eyes accustomed to the lunar light the creatures who scurry freed from their diurnal habitation to examine the progression of the nightly games and with us cast about in anticipation like gamin for the feast the dark tenders and succumb to that wild beating falling upon us out of nowhere and we are the feasted upon who came looking for the bacchanalian revelry in a reptilian race breathless in anticipation of the moment when the sharp beak of the night hunter rips our souls asunder and exposes us raw and bleeding to the rapture we craved And in that moment before the dark takes us we speak one final time and let fall between us sparkling in that silver light the desires we disallowed and watch them sprinkle to the earth and lay like so many motes dry and brittle and lackluster lying in the shadows of where once we had come so close to being <<<<<<<>>>>>>> AND GLASS. Emerging translucent and reaching through that crystal catafalque to stare with open eyes unknowing upon the brilliant shards of our remains lying glittering and blinding in the sun's reflected glory remembering heat remembering mist remembering Finally the illusion and seeing for once clear and unfettered the true self the true other the truth between reflected back like a mirror balanced between the day and the night and containing both lunar and stellar light both silvery radiance and golden joy And knowing in that mirroring the path between and the path back to the self to the soul to the other and the way between clear and warm and moist and ready waiting. ********** *Section 3* *********************** SPIRAL CHAMBERS -------- Spiral Chambers is a syndicated poetry column that is distributed without charge to magazines of various degrees in size and content. Conceived in July of 1994, Spiral Chambers endeavors to unite the publisher with the artist, forming an interdependent bond where both profit from the other's success. Published monthly, Spiral Chambers offers small-press publications free poetry without having to search and advertise for poets, weed through mountains of marginal submissions or even create the page layout. The poet, on the other hand, gets an instant world-wide audience, has their work broadcast to diverse cultural circles and bypasses the hassle of finding and sending their work to hundreds of publications. All parties profit and grow simultaneously from Spiral Chambers. This E-zine is offered as an electronic venue for the column. Help us grow: Tell your friends about Spiral Chambers! For complete guidelines, write to: RepsiSK@AOL.com