He Wrote as He Lived and He Lived as He Wrote
I saw Igor Isakovski for the first time when I responded to the invitation of my friend, the poet Bogomil [...]
admin 2018-08-21T17:22:35+00:00 September 9th, 2015|Categories: Essays, Literature, Blesok no. 100|0 Comments
I saw Igor Isakovski for the first time when I responded to the invitation of my friend, the poet Bogomil [...]
admin 2018-12-19T13:10:58+00:00 September 9th, 2015|Categories: Essays, Literature, Blesok no. 100|0 Comments
Dear Igor, Unfortunately, I didn’t manage to write anything on you or your poetry, although we were working together in [...]
admin 2018-08-21T17:22:35+00:00 September 9th, 2015|Categories: Poetry, Blesok no. 100|0 Comments
the plane landed after six attempts. the storm was waning, the strong wind blew the leaves and stuck them against [...]
admin 2018-08-21T17:22:35+00:00 September 9th, 2015|Categories: Poetry, Blesok no. 100|0 Comments
Bottles were over. Poems were over. We had already told each other our first loves, girls we made love for [...]
admin 2018-08-21T17:22:35+00:00 September 9th, 2015|Categories: Poetry, Blesok no. 100|0 Comments
(for Igor Isakovski) You leave crushed knees fallen on silence and ground you had to step “deep into the hole” [...]
admin 2018-08-21T17:22:35+00:00 September 9th, 2015|Categories: Poetry, Blesok no. 100|0 Comments
I couldn’t find your grave in the marble forest. After the funeral I looked for signs to get by when [...]
admin 2018-08-21T17:22:35+00:00 September 9th, 2015|Categories: Poetry, Blesok no. 100|0 Comments
I want to be a DJ at the shelter for abused women, sing songs to net swordfish from the eye's [...]
admin 2018-08-21T17:22:36+00:00 November 9th, 2014|Categories: Reviews, Sound, Blesok no. 99|0 Comments
BOXING DREAMERAfter a long, long time, you felt the cold on your face. High in the mountains, surrounded by trees [...]
admin 2018-08-21T17:22:36+00:00 November 9th, 2014|Categories: Poetry, Blesok no. 99|0 Comments
so here I am again observing certain ladies in the small alley across the street from Spinoza's house, remembering how [...]
admin 2018-08-21T17:22:36+00:00 November 9th, 2014|Categories: Poetry, Blesok no. 99|0 Comments
Upturning the turtle, little girl runs away For the first time, turtle sees sky Trans. by Raman Mundair