Spring Forward: A Collection of Poetry from Scarborough Arts Members

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Spring Forward A C O L LE CT I ON O F P OE T RY FROM S C A RBO R O UGH A R T S M EMB ERS

April 21 – May 28, 2016 The Bluffs Gallery, 1859 Kingston Road





TABLE OF CONTENTS ELLEN S. JAFFE* Springing, Longing

9

LARRY KOSOWAN* Ten Days Into April

10

JOAN KEHOE* Before the Show

12

JC OLSTHOORN* Weeding

13

JOLIE ADAM Snowy Sundays in April

14

SHEILA BELLO In Awe

16

CHERYL DUGGAN The Ew’s and Ah’s of Spring TERESA HALL Springtime on the Scarborough Bluffs

18

19

LISA HAZELWOOD-GOUDIE Crocus

20

MANIVILLIE KANAGASABAPATHY Spring Sunrise

21

DENISE KEMP Spring and Thyme

22



DARCY MILLER Kaleidoscope

24

ANNA NIEMINEN The Birds Atop the Sill

25

RITA-ANNE PIQUET From the Earth

26

FAZ SHARIEF Change

27

NADINE STERMOLE Places

28

SHEILA WHITE Birth

*Featured works selected by Scarborough Arts’ jury.

29



Springing, Longing ELLEN S. JAFFE

Now I am filled with such longing, not to possess you or even be possessed, though desire’s there, but to share time, space, touch our edges like fingers pressing together in that game where we shut our eyes, can’t tell one finger, one person, from the other – if only for a moment. And now the cardinal is singing again and again and again, impossibly high in the treetops, as if his heart would break and overflow the world with such red music.

Published in Skinny-Dipping with the Muse, Guernica Editions, 2014.

– 9 –


Ten Days Into April LARRY KOSOWAN

The Muse is bodring you again, She said with a smile. What does that mean? I asked reflectively. She didn’t know. Some old guy used to say it, When she came around; The Muse is bodring me again. He died, I think, of insomnia. So there lay I, In the middle of night; That day of equal dark and light; Its sun set twenty days ago. I listened to windows fill with snow. A driving wind had peppered the glass, With tiny pips of eager ice, They tapped on the pane like little mice. I heard I thought light steps in the attic. I tossed my covers to sit up straight, At the sound of a squeak which was just a twig, At the end of a branch which rubbed and scraped, On the window pane. So I told Mama; Lay down again.

– 10 –


Did it tilt? She asked. What tilt? I said, Eyeing the Muse’s tilting head. Again it was the old man’s thought; Whether the axis was off its spot. He must have thought you’d know, I said, Flying the Ether with the other Muse, Far above with inspiring views. If you ask me then I’d say; No, The Earth is steady as she goes. But she was gone. I spoke too much. I never learn that when she comes, I ought to only smile and nod, Moving the pencil lead up and down.

– 11 –


Before the Show JOAN KEHOE

Birds Twittering in mass choruses Timeless tuning up For the show Wind Bustling through budded trees Snapping discarded branches Setting the stage in order Sun Unsure of its place Dodging behind jostling cloud clumps Sliding into line Silver yellow scrim All the shades of green Dazzling bouquet colours Waiting in the wings Ready excited Before the ecstasy of the show SPRING!

– 12 –


Weeding JC OLSTHOORN

It’s spring now I crawl along the grass ramassing twigs and dead Styrofoam chips wrappers and things And the weeds the dandelions I poke and prof and pull them out along the curb relentless Each time it is the same routine bag in tow tool in hand a pen scratching out words on pages I pull these unwanted growths from the greening grass I do this for hours at a stretch until the lawn reads well

– 13 –


Snowy Sundays in April JOLIE ADAM

Snowy Sundays in April, spent thinking about you, whispering all the words I want to lay on you. Inviting, blank canvas when I need you. Intimidating naked page, when I try to. I want us to conjoin, in mind and spirit, so that you feel my thoughts before they even occur so that you hear my heart without explanation orconfusion so that you understand my hesitation in speaking the truth at times. I spent this time, thinking of the relief unburdening this brings me, then thinking of the grief my inaction to write you leaves me with.

– 14 –


I don’t want to keep apologizing, for things we both know I should do, for promises I mean and make, yet so easily renege on andbreak, for passions I bellow and moan about just to turn around with excuses and shout. I’m sorry, I meant to, I really did. I guess I lost my will. But Iforbid this meek reason to be the cause of us breakingup. I love you, it means more than words to me to tell you that I love you. Blank canvas, I thought of you all day And it shreds me to think of snowy Sundays, without you by my side, to pick up the pieces of my imagination.

– 15 –


In Awe SHEILA BELLO

Sprout by sprout, I have observed you from different heights and angles in the past few weeks, measuring with my eyes the progress of your growth since you emerged from the earth. Spring after spring, I have seen new births from seeds, and rebirths from old roots as past and present interact in the fertile, warming earth. There are those that grew alongside you in previous seasons; siblings, neighbours and garden associates that succumbed to winter and aging factors. I lament that they did not return. But your stems are spreading, growing taller and bearing buds as you embrace longer hours of sunlight. You respond to spring breezes with swaying movements like rituals.

– 16 –


I anticipate bursts of flowers from your expectant buds: crocuses, pansies, violets, bleeding hearts, tulips, forget-me-nots, lilies, trilliums and others in my garden. I want to be with you each day. You fill my mind with nourishment. In your beauty I find contentment. Calmness comes over me when I see your fresh leaves or smell your scented flowers. Poetic thoughts sprout and bloom in my mind when I am with you. Though I have looked at you many times before, with each gaze I am still in awe.

– 17 –


The Ew’s and Ah’s of Spring CHERYL DUGGAN

Ew the bugs the spiders bees, flies, and fleas mosquitos and slugs Ah sunshine glass of wine a golden glow on the patio Ew the mud the water in the basement from puddles to flood Ah colours the flowers in the garden the sky ... a rainbow

– 18 –


Springtime on the Scarborough Bluffs TERESA HALL

The siren song of nature calls me, with bird-songs echoing in the breeze, back to the hillsides hot with sunshine; new buds bursting from the trees. Every blade of grass now reaching, happily free from winter’s snow, seagulls lazily dancing, gliding on the back of the winds that blow. The pitying trill of a gold-finch tells me stay, become one of us again; far from the maddening crowd of the city, far from the petty cares of men.

– 19 –


Crocus LISA HAZELWOOD-GOUDIE

One purple petal Was tired of waiting for Spring And broke through the ice

– 20 –


Spring Sunrise MANIVILLIE KANAGASABAPATHY

Awaken my sleeping world Shake off the fogs of winter Unfurl the sweet fragrant buds Draw in the rays of the Strengthening sun Watch the shadows slip away Fresh breezes that chase The lingering sorrows Unfreezing dormant pains Vaporizing the fears that Held you back As the spring dawn encroaches My winter blues disperse Bring forth the colours That lay waiting For the season’s warm breath To arouse A new painting of the world New stories to tell The rebirth of life And the embracing of change So spring sunrise, Shine bright Awaken my sleeping world So that I may rejoin The living.

– 21 –


Spring and Thyme DENISE KEMP

I awoke one day to sunlight streaming into my room It signified the disappearance, finally, of winter’s gloom Laughing, I ran outside to kiss the rejuvenated earth Indeed I was in awe of nature’s delightful rebirth Two exquisite sprites skipped up to me and grabbed my hand And then took me on a journey across the colourful floral land The sweet exotic scent of Jasmine in full bloom filled the air And soothed our minds as we frolicked in those fields so fair Birds, dragonflies and butterflies Danced beneath soft blue skies Honeybees busily buzzed around fragrant flowers Mesmerizing us during those balmy spring hours We watched with amusement as a beetle rolled his ball of dung Meanwhile, Chipmunks and other furry creatures fed their young The sprites and I decided to search for the elusive 4-leaf clover; (Deep down I knew my ‘searching’ would never really be over) Eventually we rested beneath a Weeping Willow Its leafy branches hovered above our heads like a halo There where the dawn’s sunshine was flowing, Young spring hearts were glowing

– 22 –


Sleepily I asked, “What are your names, my dear new friends?” They replied “Just enjoy the springtime of your life before it ends” Then suddenly they were gone; but I smiled up into cobalt blue skies And I did enjoy the springtime that rolled on in green for miles and miles It rolled on through all the glory years; Through the good times, bad times and tears It’s another spring now as I relive that childhood memory And I yearn for them as I flip through my tattered diary The pages have yellowed with age My diary entry was scrawled all over a page I had titled it: “Spring and Thyme” And I know they’re both still out there, Somewhere; …Dancing on the wings of spring … and time.

– 23 –


Kaleidoscope DARCY MILLER

Colour me blue for the sky’s endless expanse A cover so soft it can only enhance The white of the clouds and the sun’s blend of golds And then wait for a bit and the grass comes up green The trees come alive and suddlenly spring just unfolds The brown of the buds burst into such an array Of purples and pinks and flamboyant ambrosias The ambers and oranges a pomp display And need I remind you to smell the roses Keep your eyes to the heavens and every new day Hear the robins the larks the sparrows and blue jays As the season commences and all senses arousing Spring beckons us gently from winter’s housing We shed all our layers waving good-bye to the snow As the warmth gives us reason to bask in the glow

– 24 –


The Birds Atop the Sill ANNA NIEMINEN

In morning when the world is still, I watch the birds atop the sill, They seem not to care, That I am there, If they can move at their own free will. They go about their busy ways, Working at the sun’s first rays, And if I move, They disapprove, And leave me staring in a gaze.

Note: This is a work of juvenilia, written in 1982 when I was in my early teens.

– 25 –


From the Earth RITA-ANNE PIQUET

Your time will come, however brief. Winter’s barren land protects the seed of each idea, every thought, until the sun calls forth one tiny leaf and shoot. Imperceptible reaching growth moving in the only direction known seeks its destiny. What force it must take, the strength of titans, to push aside the weight of this frozen earth. Awakened to your purpose no longer held in the embryonic core, life’s smallest green symbol now affirms our long buried dreams. The surface is breached. Warmth and sun, expectant eyes await your message of life’s ever renewing spring.

– 26 –


Change FAZ SHARIEF

– 27 –


Places NADINE STERMOLE

Places piece you together Places tear you apart Places make the heart ache Places warm memories Places bind and rebind Wind and unwind. Places stamp your soul For better or worse Places bring comfort and familiarity Places evoke fear and hesitation. Time changes places. Places change people People change places.

– 28 –


Birth SHEILA WHITE

“Not yet,” says the frozen ground. “Now!” screams the eager shoot. And so the fight begins between Minerals and plants Wrestling over elemental options, A contest of natural inclinations, Or shall it be a dance, around the slow rebirth of spring? Snowdrops crowned with ice tiaras, Freezing rain-encrusted gems A whispered hint of Life’s sometimes painful voyage. A bulb to sprout, A tender frond, A broken stem, A trampled blade. Each comes with its own story of survival Through the wretched to the sublime, A decorated fiesta of colours and scents And sweet sounds rising from the trees. Even a sleeping bird is never still And, as with spring, the slightest breeze May whistle through a slimly opened window To hint at least of wondrous beauties About to abound.

– 29 –



ABOUT

Spring Forward

On display in the Bluffs Gallery from April 21 to May 28, 2016 is our Spring Forward: Members Exhibition, featuring a stunning array of visual art, sculpture, photography, and new media works that reflect the season’s images and poetic associations. In addition, the exhibit highlights selected poems by Scarborough Arts members that give expression to the emotions and experiences that arrive with winter’s departure.

EXHIBITING ARTISTS + POETS Jolie Adam • Saba Ambreen • Sheila Bello • (Hoa) Ken Chan • Margaret Chown • Tiffany Dawe • Cheryl Duggan • Teresa Hall • Janice Hardacre • Lisa Hazelwood-Goudie • Ellen S. Jaffe • Dorsey James • Manivillie Kanagasabapathy • Joan Kehoe • Natalie Kemp • Denise Kemp • Larry Kosowan • Ryan Manankil • Susy Martins • Darcy J. Miller • Anna Nieminen • Jane OrrNovotny • JC Olsthoorn • Rita-Anne Piquet • Thiviyaa Sehasothy • Faz Sharief • Natalie Stermole • Sylvie Stojanovski • Grazyna Grace Stryjek • Anne Queen • Sheila White

ABOUT SCARBOROUGH ARTS Scarborough Arts, a non-profit charitable organization, is the only arts organization of its kind specifically serving the Scarborough community through innovative arts and culture programs for citizens of all ages. We bring artists to the community and community to artists. Charitable Registration Number: 1326 89704 RR0001


1859 Kingston Road, Scarborough, ON M1N 1T3 [T]: 416-698-7322 / [F]: 416-698-7972 www.scarborougharts.com info@scarborougharts.com Scarborough Arts

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