Tag Archives: Lorna Crozier

A Reflection for Remembrance Day – Three Poets – Owen, Crozier and Amichai

The Parable of the Old Man and the Young So Abram rose, and clave the wood and went, And took the fire with him, and a knife. And as they sojourned both of them together, Isac the first born spake and said, My Father, Behold the preparations, fire and iron, But where the lamb for […]

The Bigness of Small Poems – #32 in a Series – The Indefatigable Lorna Crozier – Three Poems

WHAT THE SOUL WANTS  A horse made out of rain (it doesn’t need a blacksmith). A fret of dragonflies, the thin gloss of their wings. A yellow bicycle. Outside the door a tall coffee can full of sand for the soul’s gritty habits. A place where trees are happy. How can you tell? It’s the […]

To Soul or Not to Soul – Poems on Soul!

Oh, I Said My subject is the soul Difficult to talk about, Since it is invisible, Silent and often absent. Even when it shows itself In the eyes of a child Or a dog without a home, I’m at a loss for words. Charles Simic (1938 – )  from THE LUNATIC, HarperCollins Publishers, 2015 Earlier […]

A Clearer Way to See – The Shared Poetic Vision of Lorna Crozier and Patrick Lane

Yesterday, fleece under my sports jacket, I sat in Montreal with a few thousand others in a gargantuan white tent and listened to the convocation address at McGill University’s Spring Convocation for the Faculty of the Arts and Religious Studies. Yes, it was drafty and chilly under that tent but I didn’t notice. There are […]

What Her Heart Sees – The “Man from…..” Poems of Lorna Crozier & More!

                    Man from the Promised Land He was the north wind, the west. And I very nearly blew away with him My limbs light as grit. He whittled me Raised me to his lips and made me sing. It was Bedouin, Mojave, Saskatchewan’s Great Sandhills, the […]

Adrian Blevins – Yeah, She’s Happy Saying This!

Ars Poetica She was not blissful in that garden. Not blissful harvesting it.  Not blissful not. She was not blissful, not inseminated, and couldn’t stand getting vast. She didn’t like the godforsaken vaccinations: Christ how those children wept! She didn’t like it when school was cancelled, and she liked it even less when it was […]

10,9,8,7,6,5,4,3,2,1… Lift off! Poems from Planet Earth Now Available

Last Friday at 7.30 PM more than a hundred of us crammed into the The Moca House on Hillside in Victoria. There were line ups at the bar for cookies and such, coffee and beer but we were there for even stronger and more nourishing fare. It was the launch of the anthology Poems From […]

And Still We Sing – A New Year’s Eve Celebration of the Life and Poems of Patrick Lane

It is late October, 2012, last evening of the Vancouver Writers’ Festival. There is music in the big room already. Music made by voices. The event starts in thirty minutes but many of the four hundred-or-so chairs are already filled. The music is sweet and unique. Those particular voices. Those places in the room where […]

An Alphabet of Poets – N is for Nowlen

Weakness Old mare whose eyes are like cracked marbles, drools blood in her mash, shivers in her jute blanket . My father hates weakness worse than hail; in the morning      without haste he will shoot her in the ear, once, shovel her under in the north pasture. Tonight         leaving the stables, he stands […]