FinNALA

FinNALA Newsletter: March 2012, Vol. 5, No. 1

2012-02-19T14:15:00.001-08:00

Kippis! Is Online

The all-new Kippis! – Kippis! Online – is now up and running in its first edition. Kippis! is the literary journal published by FinNALA, and is open to both members and non-members alike. By moving from a print journal to an online journal we’re now able to do much more with formatting, art work, and photos. This first edition features poetry by Jim Heikkinen, JoEllyn Belka, and Joanne Bergman; a great and true modern-day love story set in China; our first-ever book review (Death’s Door, by Steve Lehto), and much, much more. Getting there is easy. Just go to www.finnala.com and click on the Kippis! link.

For the writers among us: Kippis! reads submissions all year long, and we love to see work from both beginners and more experienced writers. At the present time the only compensation we are able to offer is great exposure to an appreciative audience. We want to hear from you! Kippis! submission guidelines are here.

Bill Vartnaw of Petaluma was elevated to the position of Poet Laureate of Sonoma County California between 3-4PM, Sunday, January 29th, 2012 in the public banquet room of the Sonoma County Public Library in Santa Rosa, California.

He becomes yet another Finn-Estonian-American to be so honored, accompanying Sheila Packa, Poet Laureate of Duluth, to name another Poet Laureate of Finnish heritage to be so recognized.

"Bill Vartnaw [ The Estonian version being Vaartnou. ] was born and raised in Petaluma, next door to his grandmother Elmi, and her sauna, although it wasn't used much by the grandkids. His Aunt Hilma who took the bus up from the city [San Francisco] and read his fortune from tea leaves when he was a kid, kept in touch with the "old country." He took his first sauna in Finland [at Aunt Sylvi's in Sysma] in 1970 and has returned a couple of times since then to share his cousins saunas.

He established Taurean Horn Press in San Francisco in 1974, which has published 14 books of poetry, including his own' In Concern for Angels (1984).

Vartnaw has had two publications come out in 2009: Suburbs of My Childhood from Beatitude Press in Berkeley, and Postcards from Round Barn Press in Santa Rosa. He can be found online at the Red Room: >> http//www.redroom.com/author/bill-vartnaw << " from Finnish American Poetry by Rauhala, Vartnaw Hagelberg [UFKB&S; Berkeley CA; 2010] p 23.

He was published in the Winter 2010 issue of Kippis, A Literary Journal 2:1 (p50,). Bill was also a founding member of The Bay Area Poets' Coalition.

The Fourth Annual Kippis! Creative Writing Contest is being planned. Submissions will be accepted from January first through March thirty-first. Categories include fiction, creative nonfiction, and poetry. Fiction and nonfictions submissions may not exceed 3,000 words. Poetry submissions may include multiple poems but each sumission may not exceed eight pages. The entry fee for each submission is $20.00 and multiple entries are accepted as long as each is accompanied by an entry fee. First prize is $100, second prize is $50, and 3rd prize is $25. Judging will be done by the Kippis! editorial staff.

G. K. Wuori has been invited to be the guest celebrity at a “Celebrity Saturday” event sponsored by the Allwriters’ Workplace and Workshop in Waukesha, Wisconsin. The Workplace is an online and onsite creative writing studio that offers classes in all genres of writing as well as editing and marketing services. The event will be held on March 24. During the day Wuori will host a workshop, “Practical Magic: Writing and Publishing the Short Story” for students of the Workplace.

In June, Wuori will be a guest panelist at the Southeast Wisconsin Festival of Books sponsored by the Allwriters’ Workplace, the University of Wisconsin-Waukesha, and Martha Merrell’s, an independent bookstore. Focus of the panel will be on literary fiction – what it is and what it isn’t.

G. K. Wuori is vice-president of FinNALA and associate editor of Kippis. He lives in Sycamore, Illinois.

Finns in Minnesota, a new book by Prof. Emeritus Arnold R. Alanen of the University of Wisconsin-Madison, will appear in May 2012. The book may be ordered from the publisher, the Minnesota Historical Society Press, or any on-line source such as Amazon.com.

Lauri Anderson, author of eight books of literary fiction with Finnish and Finnish-American characters, will be a guest author at Iowa Wesleyan College the last week of March. He will visit several classes and will speak to an assembly of the student body. Anderson’s books include Heikki Heikkinen and Other Stories from Michigan’s Upper Peninsula, Children of the Kalevala, Impressions of Arvo Laurila, Hunting Hemingway’s Trout, Misery Bay, Back to Misery Bay, Mosquito Conversations. Anderson is an old and broken-kneed literature professor at Finlandia University in Hancock, Michigan. His books have been published by Atheneum and North Star.

Life is an Amazing Song
This is a wonderful book of a young boy’s life during the war times in Finland at his grandparents in Oulu, North Finland. Later he was sent to Orsa in the Dalama region of Sweden. After several years with foster parents in Sweden, he finally returned back to Finland to his mother, sister and brother in South Finland. It was a happy homecoming after some seven years absence, but it was a shock. He found his family’s life to be hard and raw. Food was scarce. They lived in a tiny firetrap apartment building. His mother worked as a prison guard and with her meager salary was barely able to support the family. His father returned from the war and immediately announced that he wanted a divorce from mother. After that he disappeared from their life without any financial support. Not long after their misery, there was a change when mother regained her old position at the Internationally famous Hotel Aulanko. The family moved to the hotel’s premises, into a solid large log cabin. Now life turned out for the better. The hotel years were exciting and uplifting. Life was beautiful again. A “miracle” happened to the boy, at age seventeen, when he received an invitation to America, with all travel and living expenses paid, plus schooling in Philadelphia. He embraced his new life in America with vigor – in the land of opportunity – becoming a successful business man years later.
Review by Siggy Buckley

This book is a memoir in the tradition of Angela’s Ashes, My Life as a Dog (Swedish book) and a hint of Tom Sawyer, Enchanting-Sad-Uplifting-Refreshing-Humorous.

John Raikkonen is the author of a new exciting memoir about Finland during the Finnish-Russian war, year 1942 to 1945 and the after effect. Please view John’s web page: www.LifesAmazingSong.com

Green Mattress under the Stars

Poetry, said Wordsworth, is emotion recollected in tranquility. This book by Eric Sorila-Rothberg is travel recollected in tranquility and from the perspectives of an entire lifetime. It begins in 1946 with a small boy exploring the streets of the Finnish city where he was born, and ends in 2007 on the top Mount Vaea in Samoa, where the body of Robert Louis Stevenson lies buried. During these sixty years the author takes us around Latin America by foot, bicycle and bus in the late 1960's,and across Russia and China from Finland to Hong Kong by train in the early 1980's. With him we ascend Mount Kilimanjaro in 1988, cycle through Japan in 1991, visit New York City and photograph the Twin Towers in 2000, see Devil's Island in French Guyana in 2004, and visit that other prison known as North Korea in 2005, and venture into still more places. Written mostly in the historic preset, the story is based on the author's travel diaries, and it preserves the sense of immediacy and participation as we join the passionate traveler in his peregrinations over the world. We meet not only the author, but also a host of other people, a few unhelpful, indeed, but most of them helpful and hospitable. We follow the world as it changes from the 1960's to to the beginning of the third millenium. And we learn, of course, about the perilous but rewarding art of travelling the world on a shoestring. In that world, from time to time, the grass in a park or field becomes a green mattress under the stars.

Stuart Piddocke, B.A., M.A. (Brit. Col.),M.A. (London), LLB., Ph.D.( Brit.Col.)

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A remarkable story of adventure. Green Mattress Under the Stars is about human perseverance as experienced by Eric Sorila-Rothberg in the course of his travels through thirty countries. By sharing with us his diary notations from those travels, the writer reveals his basic philosophy of travel, namely that willpower is more important than monetary power, that relationships are more important than comfortable accommodations, and that the experience of Providence is more than just sheer luck. The book is a page-turner since at the conclusion of almost every episode he leaves us with the question, “How can you top that?” or with the exclamation, “That’s incredible!” These gripping narratives of raw adventure (sometimes in the company of his trusted friend, Victor Kummila) are accompanied by fifty-five photos of nature and human interest scenes—most of the them taken on Eric’s large format view camera that he carted around the world—his one and only prize possession!
Sven Soderlund, Professor Emeritus Regent College, Vancouver, Canada
B.A. University of Toronto. MCS., Regent College, Ph.D. University of Glasgow
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Diane Dettmann’s new memoir Twenty-Eight Snow Angels: A Widow’s Story of Love, Loss and Renewal is out. Check out the reviews on Amazon! Miriam Daughter of Finnish Immigrants, a memoir co-authored with her aunt Miriam Kaurala Dloniak, is also available on line. Autographed copies are available at ddettmann@q.com

Through a Keyhole I Look, Life’s Eternal Deep

--For Booger. Rest in Peace.

by JoEllyn M Belka

White water,

The bow, it splits,

A gaping splice.

This fissure, within time-

This infinitely small space I pass only once,

in time travel-a blink.

Thoughts of you, take me down, drowning in fear

You, being lost somewhere out there

And my head swims a black hole, riding waves

Waves, like dog years-swift, timely, yet never enough.

I look to the sky

And find it’s me, lost at sea

You, you are safe, safe at heaven’s gate.

And in the boat’s aftermath break-it’s rite of passage,

diamond waters heal, slipping to goldleaf memory

~life’s eternal deep.

Free Spirits

by Marykay McAllister

She was tall and well built, about thirty and on the zaftig side. Her long black curly hair streamed down her back. Her skirt was short, above her knees, showing off shapely legs. Her blouse was fashionably tight. But it was her face and body language that were so arresting. She has classic features and smooth olive skin. Her large brown eyes were half-closed as she swayed in time to some inner music only she could hear. Her voice was soft and low and seemed to be echoing the words of the sermon underway, the priest’s voice piped into the cozy chapel. There were only about fifty of us there – stragglers who came late for the Sunday service, or those with small children who were free to wander, ask questions and even cry a little. The rest were probably those who liked to leave early, and beat the crowd out of the parking lot. In short, there were no apparent mystics present.

She stood at the front of the little chapel, alone, lost in her own reverie and her own form of worship. It was place of prayer and relative privacy as compared to the large formal church in front of us, visible behind closed, glassed-in doors, which seated over nine hundred people. Some in the chapel seemed oblivious to the whole thing, noses buried in prayer books. Others stared straight ahead, either lost in their own thoughts, or determined to ignore unusual behavior. A number looked up, apparently embarrassed, and then looked quickly away, uncertain of what to do perhaps.

One always thinks that one will do the right thing in any circumstance, particularly the unusual. When you are young, you believe you will save the people from the burning building, or snatch the baby from the railroad trestle in the nick of time. What you find out as you live life is that mostly you and others are frozen in place, glued into immobility by the unusual, uncertain as to what to do for hear that it will be the wrong thing. It is not imminent danger that frightens us off – I think it is more insecurity about our misreading of the circumstances that stops us from doing something, heroic or otherwise.

The priest, speaking from the lectern on the altar, had his back to us, but was visible through the closed glass doors. As he continued his sermon, the beautiful girl danced, swayed and began to chant a little, her voice a little louder.

I was sitting next to an acquaintance of mine, an artist whom I knew was a member of a lay order of religious. She moved with a special mission through the world, most of her work anonymous, her goodness and kindness the only clues that she was a member of a religious order. She met my nervous glance calmly and mouthed the words, “Pray for her.” I thought, how lovely, and how could one go wrong doing that? The girl wasn’t really disturbing anyone, the baby I the rear corner was fussy and making a lot more noise and creating a much bigger distraction.

There were two people in the chapel that day that did just the right thing. My artist friend, Alex, was the first, but there was another.

As I mentioned, the chapel also served as a “crying room” for very small worshipers. Today there was a bumper crop, always true the last Sunday of the month when baptisms were performed after this service. The small ones ranged from a docile, beautifully dressed little girl of about four down to the crying baby mentioned. In between were another five or six small children of varying ages. But the “star” was a very small boy of about two and half, a silent fellow, dressed in a miniature guayabera white shirt, dress khakis and brand new shoes. He had obviously been told by his handsome young father, who never took his eyes off him, that he could go up to the doors, but not beyond. And he tried his boundaries, on our side of the chapel, over and over again, his huge blue eyes checking on the “parental electric fence” every few seconds. Until the beautiful girl began to chant and sway. That caught his delighted attention.

He moved over to the center of the chapel, in front of the small altar, inches from where she was. He smiled a beatific smile and began to sway with her, obviously hearing the same silent music as she. They smiled at each other, her welcoming a kindred spirit into her circle it seemed, he delighted to be welcomed. The priest finished his sermon. God’s two special people finished their worship. He retired to his father’s arms, she retreated to the rear of the chapel.

I proved I was no different on this Sunday morning. I personally have a built-in alarm system that senses the unusual, jumps to all sorts of conclusions, discards them all, worries about consequences, all in nanoseconds, and ends up doing nothing much. Uncertainty freezes me into immobility, and disapproval colors part of the picture. It stops me from doing the kind thing, until it is too late. I think my prayers on future Sundays should be more like the two year old who joined the dance and less like the cautious woman who watched.

Two Poems by Priscilla Harvala

Mojakka

Mojakka, what is it? People ask in a curious way, and you laugh,

Knowing that questioning look on their faces….it’s a familiar one.

So, how do you explain mojakka without using a cookbook or math?

The simple truth is just to give them a bowlful….with a buttered bun!

Their expression of perplexity will turn into a sigh of pure pleasure,

As the first spoon full of mojakka passes over the tongue with leisure,

Their taste buds will burst into amazing delight when trying to measure,

The values of the meat or fish, varied vegetables, and spices we treasure.

Mojakka is made in so many ways using chicken, ham, fish or beef,

Browning meat well and adding onions to make a broth full of flavor,

Cover with milk or water, simmer; toss in salt, pepper, spices or a bay leaf,

Then add the vegetables - potatoes, carrots, whatever, and cook for an hour.

Every pot full of mojakka comes complete with a personality of its own,

Depending on the ingredients available and the disposition of the cook,

It may have large chunks or small, milk or water, and maybe even a bone,

One thing for sure, Betty Crocker didn’t have it in her cook book!

Mojakka was fashioned a long time ago by the resourceful American Finn

Who brought from Finland the ability to survive on practically nothin’!

When times were tough, they took a little bit of this and a little bit of that,

And with a bunch of sisu, created what’s called “mojakka,” without any fat!

The broth was sometimes thick and sometimes thin, and would depend

On what was in the pantry or how much money the family had to spend.

Generations later, mojakka has survived the test of time, and take heart,

For now it has become a St. Urho’s legend contest and a tasty work of art!

Sinikka, St. Urho’s Wife, the Real Hero?

Heinäsirkka, heinäsirkka, mene täältä hiiteen!

So all the praise has been going to the boys again!

For many years Sinikka’s spirit has been watching all these doings;

Urho getting all the glory, and Sinikka, lying unknown in dark ruins.

But now, up from the grave, the spirit of Sinikka has risen!

“You know, Urho and I did things together, like a team of oxen!”

Many people thought that St. Urho wasn’t married and needed a wife,

But he was married to the shy young maiden, Sinikka, the love of his life!

And “So, what,” you ask, “did that Sinikka, St. Urho’s wife do?”

Why Sinikka did all those things that Urho didn’t have the time to!

It’s said Urho chased out all them grasshoppers, almost big and pigs,

To save the vines and grapes in the land where all the Finns live.

Then while Urho was out getting all the honors, many thought him due,

Sinikka was at home tending the vines where those grapes, big as figs, grew.

And when they were ripened, Sinikka would call all their twelve kids,

To carefully pick off those vines those purple grapes, big as figs!

Then Sinikka would heat up the sauna fire, so it was good and hot,

And threw in the twelve children, bare naked, all in one lot.

Sinikka scrubbed them all clean from their heads to their toes,

Wiped them down dry, and into the big grape barrel they did go!

“Now, stomp, jump, and play on those purple grapes, big as figs!”

Sinikka told all the twelve children, from the little one to the big!

So much fun they did have, all those happy children at play,

And so much grape juice was ready by the end of the day.

That it was then coming out so fast that Sinikka had to build a dam,

To store the juice ‘til she could make it into jellies and jam!

So, you see, while Urho was getting his sainthood many thought him due,

Sinikka was at home doing all the chores, which were not just a few!

Sinikka pounded their clothes clean on the shores of the great Spirit Lake,

Sinikka ground up the grain for the loaves of rye bread she baked.

From Sinikka’s garden they dug up vegetables to store in the cellar,

So the family could eat with rye bread, pottuja and mojakka all winter!

Then Sinikka had to reap the bees’ harvest and sell some honey,

To buy the yard goods and shoe leather, as they cost money!

Sinikka then taught the six girls how to sew all the family clothes,

And to trim the skirts and shirts nicely with braids and bows.

Sinikka showed the boys how to cut and stitch all the family shoes,

And keep them in good condition for the whole family to use.

Sinikka milked the cows and made the feelia sour, she gathered the eggs, and

From the sheep’s wool, Sinikka spun and knitted leggings for all the legs!

So, you see, while St. Urho has been getting all the glory for so many years,

It’s time to honor Sinikka, she stood by him through blood, sweat, and tears!

Goodhearted, kind, and very hardworking was that Sinikka, wife of St. Urho,

And it was said by many that maybe Sinikka was the real sainted hero!

But nobody wanted to honor a woman, though a deserving Finn,

And give sainthood to someone whose name started with “Sin!”

A Poem by Eric Sorila

Muisto Äidistä

Kuin ihana ruusu, elämäsi kauniina loisti.

Kynäsi kultainen terä, monilta tuskan poisti.

Eräs päivä ruususta lankesi kuoleman varjo

Kirjoitus lakkasi, oli ohi runoilijan armo.

Kynäsi viimeiset piirrot kiitollisuutta näytti,

Muistin äitiäni surussa, ilo sydämeni täytti.

A Memory of Mother

Like a rose, your life shone with beauty.

Your pen’s golden point, erased anguish of many.

One day a shadow of death fell from a rose

The writing ended, a poet’s grace at repose.

Your pen’s last traces revealed gratitude,

Remembering mother in sorrow, joy filled my heart.

Translation – S. Kaukinen

Coyote

by Michael L. King

     Drizzle moistens an overgrown New England field, where hoof imprints in leaves that brown black soil between rocks cross a dirt bike trail and lead me into briars. I push through the brambles, duck under saplings until I emerge onto a carpet of red spills darkened by a roof of green atop white pines, thick with age.
     Along the deer trail, as I inspect dew-claw dented scrapes below rubs, chickadees that flit from twig to twig brush their wings beside my eyelashes, peck my jacket. Late autumn breezes wave shadows through sunbeams. I stop, light a cigarette to check the wind. Resting on a blow-down, I absorb the woods, toned in variegated drabs and intermittent chirps. Interrupting, a clink follows a stiff gust; I twist my neck to look. Enshrouded by and suspended from a branch, a chain swings rust in a frosty swirl of smoke.
     I start toward a stone wall, but a rush of paws and dart of grey freeze my feet. A timber fox flees over the boundary while steady patter descends a hillside ahead. Tipped with black, ash, almost silver, hairs swish by sparse understory. Another canine, resembling a German shepherd, approaches quickly, halts when binocular sights meet. Acquired during migration, wolf genes bolster the bristled figure and sharpen the glinted stare of Canis latrans,

pressing on a forepaw.

Time resumes when the northeastern coyote turns, shuffles away. I assume I’m not a foe worth fighting, or food worth eating.

Two poems by Michael L. King

Foolish Math Question

Could sets upset
the sets of sets
that set the sets
of sets’ success?

Tragic Future

Thrust into thickets

of thickheadedness, consumers crave

commodities and seek solace

sucking up caustic concoctions

of commercialism as multinational merchants

march in capitalism’s careless

quest for profits—provided

by politicians indulging industry’s

indiscretions, which negate Nature’s

nurturing.

With its resources recklessly

ravaged, our one and only

world wastes away

while the poor ponder their prospects

for a felicitous future and find

no hope hiding in their hunger.

That Summer

by Lisbeth Holt

With the fragrance, innocence appeared,

Warm summer meadows of childhood,

Those rich endless play days

Of swallow and bumblebee;

The meandering river into which we leapt

Like carefree young otters;

Wondrous, fern-inhabited woods

In which we roamed as if sanctified;

The gnarled crab apple trees,

The swollen purple blackberries

Garlanding wall-high thick bushes.

The fragile summer memories of once-upon-a-time

Return to me with the fragrance of the rose

Arising faylike from the mute dark soil.

I remember the long-abandoned farmhouse

Into which we stole to rifle through trunks,

Finding faded pictures and books,

And wonder who once lived there.

I remember the sweet wild strawberries,

The tender petals of half-hidden roses

As I close my eyes and breathe in the fragrance

Of that shimmering, childhood summer,

That summer of simple wonders

And astounding grace.

Submission Guidelines for Kippis!

Kippis! would like to be a suitable and comfortable home for your work. With this in mind, please read the following guidelines so that you can better understand the kind of writing we are looking for and how we would like you to present it to us.

What We Like To See

Kippis! welcomes submissions of fiction, poetry, creative nonfiction, photos, and art work from both emerging and unpublished writers as well as more experienced writers. While we are open to any style and subject matter of material sent to us, we do have a strong bias in favor of work that stresses the increasingly cross-cultural nature of the human experience. The immigrant/emigrant experience, strangers in strange lands, language barriers, unique foods, music, social practices – all of these and more are part of the forces that can either unite us or divide us as a species, and these kinds of themes are what we love to present in Kippis! Regardless of subject matter, however, make sure the work you send us is your best: revised, corrected, proofread, all those good things.

What We Don’t Like To See

We do not consider genre work such as children’s literature, westerns, romance, horror, or science fiction, nor do we consider unsolicited book reviews. Kippis! does not consider previously published (whether in print or online) material.

How We Like To See It

Fiction can range from being very short (500 words) to longer (3,000-5,000 words). The same is true for creative nonfiction. Since we try to present a variety of pieces in any one issue, anything longer than 5,000 words may have difficulty being accepted. For poetry, a submission of three to five pages containing one or more poems would be the norm. All submissions should be typewritten, double-spaced (poetry can be single-spaced), and in a standard font such as Times New Roman, 12-point.

Work can be submitted either in the body of an e-mail, as a Word attachment, or through the postal service. Your name and contact information should be on the first page of your manuscript, and your name and the title of your piece(s) should be at the top of each page.

Paper manuscripts not accepted for publication will be recycled. If you would like your manuscript returned please submit it with an addressed, stamped envelope of a proper size to hold it. Our decision on your work will generally be given to you by e-mail. If you would like a postal response without having your manuscript returned to you, please include a self-addressed, stamped envelope of a #10 business size. Writers with non-U.S. addresses need to include postage in the form of International Reply Coupons (IRC’s).

Cover Letter

A cover letter with your manuscript or in your e-mail is recommended but not required. It is, however, your chance to tell us a little bit about yourself and where you are in your writing career. Let us know if you’ve published before and where you’ve published, but keep in mind that we are always thrilled to be the very first publication to present a new writer’s work to the world.

Simultaneous Submissions

Kippis! reads submissions all year round. While we try to respond to your work as quickly as possible, the quantity of submissions we receive sometimes makes a prompt response to your work impossible. Thus, feel free to submit your work elsewhere while we are also considering it. We do ask that you notify us immediately if your work has been accepted for publication elsewhere.

Rights

Kippis! acquires First North American Serial rights upon acceptance of your work for publication. All rights revert to the author following publication. Kippis also reserves the right to archive your work electronically, as well as to publish it in a print anthology should we decide to put together such a publication in the future.

Where To Send Your Work

Electronic submissions: Postal submissions:

gkwuori at hotmail dot com G. K. Wuori

Assoc. Editor

Kippis!

440 S. California Street

Sycamore, IL 60178

Submission Guidelines for the FinNALA Newsletter

The FinNALA Newsletter is the quarterly newsletter of the Finnish North American Literature Association. It accepts news items of interest to its membership, to authors and poets whose work is placed in Kippis!, FinNALA's literary journal, and to Kippis! readers. The Newsletter reads submissions of short works of prose and poetry year round. Send submissions to admin at finnala dot com.

FinNALA Newsletter

Editorial Team:

Beth L. Virtanen

Sirpa T. Kaukinen

G. K. Wuori

FinNALA News December 2011

2011-12-02T13:08:00.001-08:00

The FinNALA Newsletter,
Volume 5, Number 1

Merry Christmas, everyone,

from all of us at FinNALA and Kippis!

FinNALA is now going to publish Kippis! only in an online version with occasional special issues in limited edition paper copy. G. K. Wuori is coordinating the submission and editing process for the journal. In preparation for the upcoming issue, we are currently accepting submissions. Please email submissions to gkwuori at hotmail dot com or send them to his postal address:

G. K. Wuori, Assoc. Editor

Kippis!

440 S. California Street

Sycamore, IL 60178

FinNALA has a new mailing address. The postal address is as follows:

Beth Virtanen, President

FinNALA

P O Box 11

New Blaine, AR 72851

Our web address is still http://www.finnala.com/ and we will locate upcoming issues of Kippis! on the FinNALA website.

Looking forward to FinnFest 2013, FinNALA will be coordinating readings and writing workshops by Finnish-American authors and poets. We are also planning to reserve a room at a venue to have a FinNALA membership meeting and dinner. FinNALA will also reserve a booth in the tori, and will look for volunteers to maintain the booth. Authors and poets can bring their work to the booth to sign and sell during their allotted time, They may not, however, expect other attendants to sell their work. Look for details in the coming year.

A special commemorative issue of Kippis! is planned to be for sale at FinnFest 2013 in Hancock, Michigan. To ensure that your work is considered for the issue, it must be included in an issue of Kippis!prior to Summer 2013.

The Fourth Annual Kippis! Creative Writing Contest is being planned. Submissions will be accepted from January first through March first. Categories include fiction, creative nonfiction, and poetry. Fiction and nonfiction submissions may not exceed 3,000 words. Poetry submissions may include multiple poems but each sumission may not exceed eight pages. The entry fee for each submission is $20.00 and multiple entries are accepted as long as each is accompanied by an entry fee. First prize is $100, second prize is $50, and 3rd prize is $25. Judging will be done by the Kippis! editorial staff.

To enter by mail, send submissions with entry fee in the form of a check or money order made out to "FinNALA" to Beth Virtanen, Pres., Kippis! Contest!, P O Box 11, New Blaine, AR 72581.

To enter online, go to the FinNALA homepage and follow the directions there to pay by PayPal and submit your work electronically.

Suzanne Matson received a 2012 National Endowment for the Arts Creative Writing Fellowship. The novel she was writing (and read from at a previous FinNALA event at FinnFest in Minneapolis) concerning Finns has morphed and shape-changed so that it's a wider picture now, but it still has some of the Montana/Finnish immigrant "DNA" in it. An excerpt from that manuscript was what she applied with to the NEA. Here’s a link to the release: http://arts.gov/news/news11/ArtworksI-GrantAnnounce.html

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Sheila Packa just edited an anthology of 75 writers in the Lake Superior area, Migrations: Poetry & Prose for Life's Transitions. For more info, www.wildwoodriver.com

She has also been working on some video poems with Kathy McTavish. Links to those are on Sheila's blog, www.sheilapacka.com.
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A Poem by Sheila Packa (It is also in the anthology noted above):

Memory / The Mine

I return but it’s all excavation — me
an employee of the organization.
I remember a long road past a gate,
a dead landscape.
Dust. Noise. First the crusher and then
where I worked, the agglomerator
with conveyors to the trains.
First stop, the dry.
A sink like a Roman fountain.
Clothes blackened by taconite, yellow and white
hard hats, coveralls, steel toed boots,
safety glasses, the whistle
starting and stopping each shift.
For this, I’d propped myself on a ledge
for the paycheck.
Steel beams, high voltage. Dripping grease.
One of the crew leaning on high pressure
water hoses, blowing dust out of the nose
into a handkerchief, pushing spillage
down the sloping concrete floors
below rolling furnaces,
swallowing salt tablets from dispensers.
On a swing shift, counting
days till the long weekend
taking smoke breaks, and calculating
what falling asleep on graveyards might cost.
All night and day the trains came to load
and carry to the ore docks.
In the lunch room I took from my lunch pail
a paperback. Kept myself awake
with coffee from my thermos
avoided pellets and their third degree burns
stared into the middle distance
not the ends but the means —
the first place I’d worked
below the surface.

--

Diane Dettmann has a new work in print. Twenty-Eight Snow Angels: A Widows Story of Love, Loss, and Renewal is available from Outskirts Press. Find it here at http://outskirtspress.com/snowangels and find Diane's blog at http://quillandthought.blogspot.com/

--

Don as "Tauno" Hagelberg shares a reminder below.

Many of you already know about the "special Finnish" News which appears under the Finnish Language News Service. This News is broadcast at Second Level Finnish as defined by the European Standards. It is available at: << http://www.yle.fi/selkouutiset/index.php?1334 >> While this service has been highlighted here before, I am more than sure, it seems about time to repeat it's availability. (Please correct the day if you have to when you access the service.)
--

Garrison Keillor read a poem on NPR by Jane Piirto, Trustees' Distinguished Professor at Ashland University; you can check it out at http://writersalmanac.publicradio.org/index.php?date=2011/09/25. Also find her website with a listing of her works at http://web.me.com/janepiirto/Jane_Piirto_site/Books_by_Jane_Piirto.html

Dr. Kathryn Laity, associate professor of English at The College of Saint Rose, has been awarded a Fulbright Scholar grant to lecture and perform research at the Moore Institute at the National University of Ireland Galway during the 2011-2012 academic year.

Dr. Kathryn Laity

Laity will teach a seminar on the romanticism and realities of the writer's life in the digital age. According to the U.S. Department of State and the J. William Fulbright Foreign Scholarship Board, Laity is one of approximately 1,100 U.S. faculty and professionals who will travel abroad through the Fulbright U.S. Scholar Program in 2011-2012.

A member of the Saint Rose faculty since 2006, Laity (www.kalaity.com, www.facebook.com/k.a.laity) specializes in medieval literature and culture, including the Vikings and

interpretations of medieval culture and literature in popular culture, film, creative writing, new media, comics and social media. She writes a weekly column on women and technology for a major women’s website and authors genre fiction under pen names. Laity holds a doctorate from the University of Connecticut.

Lisbeth Holt had several stories appear in Travel World News; in the August 2011 issue, "Yucatan's Mundo Maya Tourism Fair Promotes 2012 - Year of Maya Culture," and in the October 2011 issue, "Copan: Stunning Treasure of Honduras." The latter has also appeared in the Archaeology News Network and TreasureWorks.

Gary Anderson is working on a new book for the Naselle Finnish American Festival next summer. It is titled Bunchgrass and Buttercups: The Deep River Suite.

Ernest Hekkanen published two books in the spring of this year, Wintering Over: Poems Strewn on Snow (ISBN 978-1-894842-14-3) and All Night Gas Bar, and Ten Story Autopsies (ISBN 978-1-894842-20-4), a collection of stories and memoirs. He gave two readings at FinnWest at the Scandinavian Center in Burnaby, B.C. and, along with Margrith Schraner, held down a book table in the Tori.

Lennard Sillanpää is working to establish an annual Midsummer Concert in Ottawa as the President of the Nordic Society. The organization is looking for sponsors for the event which promises to draw enthusiastic crowds.

Lauri Anderson will be a guest writer at Iowa Wesleyan College in March of 2012. He will lecture in classes, speak at an assembly, read from his published works in various settings, and sign his books at the bookstore.

A Poem by M. L. King

11/27/2011

Purged

I served reform where lords conform

and shook the party’s tables, mobbed

with ranks of famished youth I begged

to leave before their dreams were squashed

by tanks that marshaled for the state.

Despite my vote against that force,

gunshots and sirens laced with screams

resounded through the capital.

Confined at home by upset chairs,

I gauged the wails.

Guarded now, I

putt on the porch. Inside I play

chess with my wife, talk to cassettes

our grandkid’s toys conceal, until

my death, when cops beat friends who mourn

outside; shrewd comrades run the tapes

to foreign press who bind my words.

Find G. K. Wuori's blog below

Cold Iron, as usual, tries to amuse, entertain, and annoy even as the rusticator himself wonders why the red light on his mouse is blinking.

Anyway, this month's brainfest can be found at

http://www.gkwuori.com/newsletter.htm

--

A Poem by Lisbeth Holt

Early Winter

It is early winter now with waning hours of mortality

Yet what I’ve not seen or where I’ve not been

Fate offers to me as enticing possibility

And I cannot turn away, for it is the soul’s choice.

As long as my feet can carry me,

As long as my mind remains curious and free,

As long as I feel my heart will expand

I say “yes” to the invitations,

Begin anew the explorations.

It is early winter, I cannot deny it.

I glance in the mirror at the faint roadmap of lines;

From out of the twilight, they suddenly appear

(And in flickering candlelight, they disappear).

What is there to fear in these tiny furrows anyway?

Why foolishly rail against our common fate?

It is unpretentious beauty that endures after all:

Adventures of the soul, love richly blessed,

Life a beautiful pattern of connectedness.

Newsletter Editorial Team:

Beth L. Virtanen
G. K. Wuori
Sirpa Kaukinen

(c) 2011

FinNALA News Fall 2010

2010-10-20T18:42:00.000-07:00

Welcome to the new FinNALA Newsletter!
I am tremendously excited to start a new phase of our publishing history, and I think this online version without the pdf files will be much more attractive. In addition, it allows us a bit more flexibility in terms of visuals. Visit our homepage at http://www.finnala.com/.

Kippis! Contest
This year, we host our creative writing contest again--our third annual Kippis! contest. Send your short fiction (up to 3,000 words), poetry (three poems up to six double-spaced pages), and nonfiction (up to 3,000 words) with genre clearly identified along with the $25 entry fee (check or money order made out to Kippis!) by the deadline of December 15, 2010, to the address below. Include your physical mailing address and your email address with your submission. Multiple submissions welcome, but be sure to include a $25 fee with each entry.

Kippis!
Beth Virtanen, Editor
47283 Huron Street
Atlantic Mine, MI 49905

We will award first, second, and third prizes of $100, $50, and $25 respectively. We will also make note of a number of worthy Honorable Mentions.

FinNALA at FinnGrandFest in July/August
FinNALA members showed up in force at FinnGrandFest is Sault Ste. Marie, Ontario, for planned readings and writing workshops. Nancy Mattson, Sheila Packa and Kathy McTavish, Josef Aukee, Kaarina Brooks, Beth Virtanen, Ernest Hekkanen, John Byk, and Lauri Anderson all presented.

FinNALA Members Josef Aukee and Nancy Mattson (pictured at left) met for the first time between events at FinnGrandFest 2010. Nancy is author of numerous works of poetry, including Maria Breaks her Silence (Coteau Books, 1989) and most recently Writing with Mercury (Flambard Press, 2006) Josef's Town and Country: Poems appeared in 2009 from Partial View.

Virtanen Commended into the Kalevalaseura

Professor Beth Virtanen was commended into the Kalevalaseura of Helsinki at FinnGrandFest 2010 in Sault Ste. Marie. Her commendation was presented by Borje Vahamaki and Hannele Jonnson-Korhola.

Brooks Coloring Book Out Now!

Kaarina Brooks has come up with a new project: "ABC of Finland: An Educational Colouring Book"! It contains well-researched drawings (by Kaarina) of the Finnish scene for every letter of the alphabet, from A to Ӧ, and interesting facts about Finland on every page. It even has some simple recipes!

The book can be a useful tool for teachers of Finnish Language Schools and it even comes with a Teacher's Guide that includes sample lesson plans with follow-up activities, games, songs and poems.

It will make a great gift for all children and adults who love to colour and learn about Finland in the process!

For schools the special rate is: a package of 10 books and the Teacher's Guide for $50.00 plus postage. For single orders the price is $10.00/book, including postage.

Packa's Expanded Echo and Lightning Available

Sheila Packa's Echo and Lighting is now available. Order it from Sheila here: www.sheilapacka.com

Echo & Lightning (expanded edition) is about migration and change. The poems are created for oral storytelling. This book is an expanded version of a chapbook of the same title; also included are many poems from the audio CD, Undertow, and the chapbook, Fearful Journey. The Kalevala is the grandmother of this work; the middle section of the book (Undertow) explores the experience of the Water Mother.

It is inspired by a Finnish poet, Helvi Juvonen, Walt Whitman, W.B. Yeats, and the Gnostic text, Thunder, Perfect Mind. The poems consider intersections with the divine in the Greek Myth of Leda and the Swan, The Bible (Mary, Mary Magdalene, and Lot’s Wife) and the Greek myth of Orpheus and Eurydyce.

Sheila Packa and Kathy McTavish Performed at FinnGrandFest

Sheila and Kathy packed the room at FinnGrandFest. More than fifty people came to hear Sheila read and recite while Kathy accompanied her on Cello. The performance was organic and moving; unrehearsed but well-coordinated, the presentation held spellbound those in attendance.

A RASCAL’S CRAFT CAPTURES TURN-OF-THE-CENTURY IMMIGRANT LIFE

Unique poetry book depicts experience of moving from Finland to America

ROYAL OAK, Mich., July 26, 2010 – The poetry of Eelu Kiviranta, who emigrated from Finland to the Upper Peninsula of Michigan at the turn of the 20^th century to seek a better life, has been compiled and translated into English in a newly released book, A Rascal’s Craft: Musings of a Finnish-American Immigrant.

This one-of-a-kind book, presented in both Finnish and English, offers a glimpse into the immigrant experience through the Finnish storytelling tradition of arkkiveisu. Kiviranta’s engaging poetry describes a variety of contemporary events – from what it was like to work in Michigan’s copper mines, to the Temperance Movement, to commentary on America’s new-found obsession with the horseless carriage.

This book marks the first time Kiviranta’s poems have been translated into English. His granddaughter, Lillian Lehto, took up the challenge as a labor of love after professional translators said it would be too daunting a task. Her translations remain true to the poems’ style and enchanting rhyme, providing for a unique and enjoyable cultural experience.

Publication of A Rascal’s Craft was made possible in part by support from the Finlandia Foundation National. Kiviranta’s great-grandson, attorney and award-winning author Steve Lehto, is a contributor to the book and wrote its introduction.

James N. Kurtti, director of the Finnish American Heritage Center, wrote the book’s foreword. “I trust I speak for the Finnish-American community when I express gratitude that the works of Eelu Kiviranta have been taken from ‘the cold’ and shared with us,” Kurtti writes.

A Rascal’s Craft is available for purchase at HYPERLINK "http://www.momentumbooks.com" www.momentumbooks.com or by calling 248-589-2170. 128 pages, trade paperback, US$19.95.

Eero Sorila-Rothberg Book in Print
A travel book by Eric (Eero ) Sorila-Rothberg of crazy adventures on a shoestring budget in 30 destinations including, Antarctica,North Korea, Easter Island and Mongolia has just been released.

When without money to pay for accommodations a lawn in a park has been my GREEN MATTRESS UNDER THE STARS Orders@ Xlibis.com or 1-888-795-4274

Lauri Anderson to Present at Luther College

Lauri will be a participant and presenter at The Vibrant Word A Festival of Writers at Luther College Oct. 29-31. He will serve as a panelist in a discussion titled A Sense of Place, will sign books, and will do a reading.

Lisbeth Holt Places Story in Travelworld News

Lisbeth's story on the region of Minas Gerais, Brazil, which I visited in September, has just now appeared in the November issue of Travel World News. (Check travelworldnews.com.)

Hilary Virtanen July Article in JoFS Receives Prize

Hilary Virtanen's article on Tipperary parodies in the July JoFS got a prize from the American Folklore Society's Nordic-Baltic Section: the Boreal Prize for the best grad student published article in Nordic or Baltic topics.

Kaunonen's Latest Book Wins Award
Gary Kaunonen's book Challenge Accepted received an award from the Historical Society of Michigan in its commercial and university press publications category.

Brooks' Kalevala Was Available at FinnGrandFest

Kaarina Brooks was available to autograph her award winning children's Kalevala at FinnGrandFest 2010. She is pictured here with the award-winning text.

Essay Contest Accepting Essays

"If I had a Million Dollars" essay contest is interested in 500-1000 word essays describing what you would do with a million dollars, tax free, and how it would change you, your family, and your community; for better or for worse. The deadline is October 31st, no entry fee, 500 word minimum. The prizes are $100 for first place, $50 for second place, and $25 for third place, and three honorable mentions. Winners will be notified, and paid, no later than December 15th. Submissions can be sent in the body of email or as an attachment, (Word only), to: brian@briankeithforeman.com or Brian Foreman, PO BOX 273, Hubbell, MI 49934.

Sirpa Kaukinen and Kaarina Brooks at the Essar Centre

Sirpa, our assistant editor for the newsletter, and Kaarina manned a booth at the Essar Center during FinnGrandFest where they sold books, calendars and artwork.

Kaarina's latest translation, The Kalevala: Tales of Magic and Adventure, was on sale at the booth, and Kaarina was gracious enough to autograph copies that were purchased. Sirpa, of course, contributes to our FinNALA editorial team, and has also published a 2011 calendar which was available at the booth.

Sirpa's calendar, Toronto-Finlandia Lions Club 2011 Calendar of Finnish Crafts, Traditions, and Proverbs, is pictured at right.

Aspasia Books Announces
Three New Publications

Appearing in Summer 2010 in the Soo are:

1. Varpu Lindström: "I Won't Be a Slave!" Selected Articles on Finnish Canadian Women's History. 152 pages. $25 retail.

2. Börje Vähämäki, ed. and transl., A Treasury of Finnish Love Poems, 128 pages. Bilingual edition. Hard cover. Retail $15.

3. Diamonds of the North - Songs from Scandinavia, CD. Performed byCindy Koistinen, soprano & Heidi Saario, Piano. Retail $17.

These and other products can be ordered by email aspasia@aspasiabooks.com and after FinnGrandFest 2010 online www.aspasiabooks.com.

G. K. Wuori's Monthly Cold Iron Is Available

No rants, ravings, or contumely this month - just a kinder, gentler Cold Iron musing on a small part of life as it is lived today. Enlightenment awaits you at http://members2.authorsguild.net/gkwuori/newsletter.htm He is pictured here as he read at FinnGrandFest 2010 in Sault Ste. Marie.

Finnish-American Poets to Perform in Berkeley on 24 October
Open Microphone Follows on Sunday, October 24-Finnish-American Poetry by:

Paula Erkkila, Johanna Rauhala, Bill Vartnaw, Don Hagelberg, read in English, with hosts Gina Hansen & Harry Siitonen. Lisa daCunha-Koski will also read.

FREE ADMISSION & FREE BOWL OF SALAD Other Refreshments For Sale

Find us in the Basement [Enter from the North] of the Finnish Kaleva Hall, 1970 Chestnut Street at University, Berkeley CA 94702

2:00-4:30PM

Information at (510-849-0125) OR at ( latoja86@hotmail.com )

Order a New Chapbook of Finnish-American Poetry
The New Chapbook: Finnish-American Poetry by Rauhala, Vartnaw, Hagelberg
57 pages long, with biographical shorts and after thought:
Send Order To:
The Finnish Kalevala Hall,
1970 Chestnut Street,
Berkeley, CA 94702-1723
Make check$ payable to: U.F.K.B.&S. #21
for $6.95 uncut; & $7.95 cut;
$3.95 postage/ handling costs for each volume in U. S.;
$3.00 extra for Europe.More information: << voinyt@yahoo.com >>.

The Finns of New Finland, written and illustrated in photos, sketches and woodcut prints by Hazel Lauttamus Birt is available nowA look at the poignant efforts of the first Finnish settlers on the Canadian Prairies to survive the harsh conditions of their new home by reaching back to their ancient customs, mythology and folklore.

Available from Hazlyn Press, 705-610 Portage Avenue, Winnipeg R3c 0G5. hgbirt@shaw.ca
Phone 1-204-888-6743 $14.00 includes postage.

Writer, Poet, Editor, Artist, etc., Ernest Hekkanen Pictured with Wuori and Virtanen at FinnFest

The members of FinNALA had opportunity for the first time to become acquainted at FinnGrandFest in Sault Ste. Marie. Here, Virtanen, Wuori and Hekkanen visit outside the conference rooms at the Delta Hotel where the lectures, readings and writing workshops were presented.

Jasmín, the Dancer

by Anita Erola

Part One

Jasmín met a fella,

So dashing and so keen,

He even called her Bella,

Who knew he could also be mean.

Together they went dancing,

In hot spots ‘round our bay,

The salsa, meringue, and the swing,

They danced the night away.

In May sometime later,

He took her far away,

And that’s what really made her,

Scheme a brilliant getaway.

No one ever said much although they all knew,

Jasmín left the fella for a clown who never made her blue.

Part Two

You’ve heard the story of Jasmín

Our heroine brave and fair,

She danced, romanced, then blew the scene,

With hibiscus in her hair.

When intuition told her,

To pack her bags post haste,

And leave sooner than later,

There wasn’t a minute to waste.

And how it really happened,

The circus rolled into town,

Jasmín seized the moment,

Unabashed, she winked at the clown.

Life can bring many surprises at just about any age,

And Jasmín always knew she was destined to be center stage.

Part Three

So Jasmín joined the circus,

And a clown named Pierre,

Her new life had new purpose,

Including a trapeze in the air.

From town to town they traveled,

With caravans filled with surprise,

The town-folk were always delighted,

And Jasmín was a sight for sore eyes.

The nomadic life had its dangers,

Including the trapeze sans net,

They avoided unscrupulous strangers,

The lion was not anyone’s pet.

Thus their saga continued with spotlights and happiness for the rest of their lives,

And it seemed that in no time at all, Pierre Junior was adept at playing with knives.

A Snippet from Pelzmantel
by K. A. Laity
Immanion Press (immanion-press.com)
Available via Amazon, etc.

The lad below us offers his hand up to help Hallgerd step out from the hollow of the tree. She clutches me tight. I get only the briefest glimpse of the lords and ladies gathered below, arrayed in their bright hunting clothes, before Hallgerd turns and makes her slow way down the trunk of the tree behind the nimble youngster. Reaching the soft ground, the princess faces the curious crowd, chin in the air and arms wrapped possessively around me.

“Well, well, quite a wily prey we have caught today, eh friends? Pray tell, Karl, what do we call such a creature? I don’t know that I’ve ever seen such a pelt as this!” The smiling king reaches out to Hallgerd’s mantel and strokes the soft fur. I growl as menacingly as I can and he pulls his hand back nervously.

“Goodness! Perhaps we should let the huntsmen take care of that creature for you, little one.”

“Never! You shall not touch her—him!”

Fortunately, the young king finds amusement in this sharp girl. “Do you know who you address, my fine lady?” He turns to the hunting party with a sizable grin. They take their cue and titter appreciatively as he continues to scold Hallgerd, who remains sullenly—and wisely—silent. “Why, I am the king. You do not wish to displease the king, now do you my dear?”

Hallgerd takes another tack. “This fox saved my lfe. I owe it protection.”

That really makes the king guffaw. “Such a noble lady! Whom do I have the honor to address?”

“I am no one of any importance…your majesty,” Hallgerd adds with distaste. She casts a discerning eye over his own wardrobe, an excess of finery seldom seen in her more practical world.

“No one of importance? Yet you are dressed so well. I do not recognize the cut of your coat, but it is a very fine mantel—surely you come from a dukedom nearby? Perhaps to the south, where they get more of the sun?” He brushes a very pale hand against her soot-blackened cheek. A couple of the ladies shriek with laughter at that, waving their handkerchiefs at his recklessness.

“I am no one and nothing but a poor kitchen maid,” Hallgerd replies through clenched teeth, “this cloak my only treasure.”

“But what are you doing in the woods, child? So far from home?”

“I—I ran away,” Hallgerd says and I see the gleam of the story-teller in her eye. Go with it, my girl!

“Ran away? Dear me!”

“My parents wanted me to marry a warty old man and I couldn’t bear it because he was so unkind. So I ran away—many days—until I was nearly captured by evil robbers, but this fox—he saved me…”

“How did he do that?” the king asks breathlessly.

“He—he ran at them, barking and growling. They thought it was a wolf, I believe, and they were quite frightened.”

The king steps a little closer but keeps away from my muzzle. “And this fox? Why do
you think it helped you, child? Do you enchant animals regularly?” More laughter from the lords and ladies follows this suggestion.

“No, I do not. But he is one of the animals whose pelt is sewn into this cloak so we have special bond. We must protect each other.”

“Fascinating! What shall we call you, my child?”

“They call me Pelzmantel for my coat of many furs,” Hallgerd replies.

Hospital Clock

by Eero Sorila

A night in hospital, the clock handles are ticking in the autumn of the year.

They are announcing the times of death without forgiveness to hear.

In the palliative Unit today the clock of death announces the end of time for two.

In the morning hours I hear a cry of death, the clock is ticking, this time for who.

The wheezing sound of the oxygen hoses join the ticking sound of the clock.

The concert of death pushes the dying to eternity, without a word of talk.

Ambulance Sirens overshadow the subdued sounds in the palliative care.

Many have died again when new morning comes, as life deems fair.

On the outside of the hospital the faith of our temporal presence is the same.

This is a pilgrimage of life, in the valley of death just once, but not again.

It is the requiem of humanity, blessed is the one whose trust is in the Lord.

Time will come when the clock in the hospital will stop, and death will be no more.

I Hear Songbirds at Bedtime.

by Burt Rairamo

At bedtime when I turn my eyes away

From the din and dust of the passing day

I summon pleasing images to mind

By the visions of my inner eye.

Now once again I smell the sweet fragrance

Of just cut hay

From the stalks the reaper left to lay.

I observe no color was ever seen

Of grass, the thicket, and the tree.

As lovely as the color green.

I hear the echo of distant cowbells reigning

From the host of cattle in the shallows wading.

I observe dappled horses eyeing me

Over post and fence

Cheeks full of grass in a blissful trance.

I hear a songbird which thicket hides

And the babble of brook as over stones it rides.

I hear the lapping of waves upon the shore

And splash of returning fisherman’s steady oar.

I hear the rustle of the reeds and rushes

And the swoosh of bow when the ground

it touches.

The sight of the bluest lake is mine to keep

And those white clouds that look like sheep.

This place of mine is pure and sweet,

The purest that I will ever meet.

Thus, I make these visions kind

To lull me to slumber and to peace of mind.

Goshawk
by M. L. King

Stepping along a trail, I hear a squeal. In a wet, low area to my right, two big blue-grey wings—in slow motion—sweep away leaf litter, spread about four feet, and flap only twice before they fold in a fat old oak, which I proceed to and stand directly beneath.

About thirty feet up, above a large nest, an abruptly hooked beak tears into an unlucky snowshoe hare. An auburn eye stares downward. Brief, sharp syllables—like fingernails on a blackboard—pierce the late spring woods. Scir! Scir! Scir! I watch a while and then I climb atop a favorite rock ledge, where I stand with my back to the hawk. The scents of pine and skunk sting my nose, malt liquor cools my throat, and the shaded scene soothes my dilating pupils, until a sudden silence twitches my spine.

I turn around and see the raptor swooping down on me. Just before it strikes, I drop to my knees. Adrenaline peaks. As the hawk circles for another run, I flee over a sea of fallen trees and look back to gauge when to cower. Three attacks later I reach a single track and stop, but the fury speeds in again, so I splash into a blueberry swamp and thrash my way through. Scir! Scir! Scir! I’m dive bombed repeatedly as I pant, and pound through the pucker brush, for a mile. Once on blacktop, I slow, gasp, and listen to shrieks from the woods.

Back at home I read that goshawks are fiercely aggressive, especially when nesting.

Changes

Lisa daCunha-Koski

As trees lose their colorful leaves

Slowly, silently without a noticeable sigh

We accept the threat, winter is nigh.

The long, lazy, lacy branches

Point or hang, silently, darkly

Without admitting to undress.

Are these skeleton-like, dark forms,

Ugly, or powerfully waiting?

What wonderful discoveries;

Scraggly, leafy squirrels’ nests, now showing

Birds’ nests, carefully constructed of dried grasses,

Old by half a year,

Surprisingly, now appear!

There’s a definite cool promise, of

Winter to come.

Why Wars?

Lisa daCunha-Koski

A convenient way to waste resources?

Provide employment for the jobless?

Make the stock market rise in the military-industrial sector?

What if all the families said, “Oh, Hector!”

Then raised their families, their crops, traded peacefully,

Shared their abundance as they used their resources wisely.

Never again, the knock on the door

The formal, fanciful burial

To receive a flag instead of a child

Square, cold, calm, hard words of “not died in vain”,

Along with courage, freedom, liberty, democracy –

To comfort those assembled

For all the days of their lives

Without their child, the husband,

The father, sister, mother, brother.

Why wars?