5/28/2023 0 Comments Vallum poetry![]() ![]() The squirrels told the oak To shake its acorns down For the poor dirt to eat. Clouds doted on the sea, amorousness Was in the air returning every wave and sigh. Nature (all of it) Did exist and loved itself. During my brief tenure I loved loving best One who didn’t exist. This was the hardest part assigned to me. A faraway land And a hotel I never visited In a ghost-book half-erased You could tell I was in love with a non-entity. Time had thinned for gravity and a speeding apple Since time was lightweight and invisible. One puddle looked just like the world-marble. ![]() Do not label your poems with your name or address instead include a cover letter with all pertinent information. VALLUM : CONTEMPORARY POETRY 5038 Sherbrooke West, P.O.Box 23077, CP Vendome, Montreal. Submit up to 1-3 poems of maximum 60 lines each. The Most Trusted Guide to Publishing Poetry Robert Lee Brewer. Vallum is the third collection of poems written by the Liverpool-based artist and features thirty new works compiled over a three year period, exploring birds. The ceiling collapsed from heavy rain and artificial colors condensed along the sidewalk. Vallum is accepting original and previously unpublished poetry submissions for the Vallum Award for Poetry. I walked by foot all over dungeons to see a film starring friends- Americans. When you are down to nothing more to call on OR you can say I walked Manhattan from sundown to dawn. To be described as a note that separates from a song and blows away. As one of Canada’s top poetry journals with an international focus, Vallum encourages dialogue between Quebec and the rest of Canada and allows Canadian artists to exchange ideas with acclaimed and emerging artists from the United States, Britain, Ireland, Australia, India and other countries around the world. We smiled our way forward perfectly even. We were almost romantic Not knotted but erect side by side passively waiting for an apocalyptic collision to rupture the grave tension between wholly conscious ontological thinking and the steel pebbling motion of tracks sparked into action by a fiery touch. You met me at the subway where tracks led east to North Station and on up to Cape Ann. You’re allowed to fear the coming hallucinations, she added. They lay down that night not looking for a real thing but for a way back. None of them remembered collecting or dreaming. Become a Premium Member and post notes and photos about your poem like Tom Cunningham. ![]() Are you collecting material for dreams, she asked the audience. Proof that you lived is that you kept notebooks. Who did what? The closed book, the feet asleep. Friends whacking at invisible ankles and you. The ordeal of dying must be memory, so much seeing and losing forms. ![]()
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