Quick Note

Welcome to the fifth issue of Misty Mountain. This time, we have a selection of eleven poems by nine poets, and a painting based on the theme Wildlife. We hope you will enjoy reading this issue.

Many thanks to all the readers and contributors. 

Happy reading!

Two Young Deer at Sunset by Fiona Clements

Fiona Clements lives in Ireland and has been writing poetry for about four years. She loves nature, animals, her friends and family. She wishes for world peace and end to war and hunger.

She blogs at: http://fiocle.blogspot.com/

One poem by Lee Evans

The Inhuman Condition 

The front half of a frog

Eyes shining

Throat pulsing

Squats between a snake's jaws

On a flat mossy boulder

Unable to leap

From the crowd that stares

In repulsed fascination

As the reptile patiently

Swallows the paralyzed

Amphibian that waits

In helpless resignation

If you save it

It means that both your eyes are blind

If you do not save it

It means that both your body

And your shadow are not visible

(Cf. The Transmission of the Lamp, Chuan 15)

Lee Evans lives in Bath, Maine, and works for the local YMCA. His poems have appeared in such journals as Mused, The Christendom Review, The Metric and Decanto.  His latest collection is available on Lulu.com: http://www.lulu.com/shop/lee-evans/the-hazards-of-being-useful/paperback/product-20597798.html

One poem by Gordon Hilgers

Animal Planet

Always, every direction, as far as

emptiness shall ever rise-up from stone,

third planet, latchkey child of solar system’s

multiplicitous, orbital wheeling, look long,

ninth planet, for we are the animals, moving

as one duplicitous seduction, whispering

through brother vegetation’s inhalation of

what we leave, and breathing oxygen, for this

is the unacknowledged Christmas, rainbow

covenant, blue-baby Krishna walking clouds

out beyond universal pillow-fighting, building

creatures of our own in stone, mutely

speaking about behemoth dirt-clods rotating

around pure energy:  How stellar spills,

pure light Milky Way, breathe; that is

the dark secret.  Rare earth, independence

of Schrodinger’s cats, Russian box dreaming

inside dreams, inside newer dream-works…

then you turn to face me, she-goddess, beauty

unbound, smiling, yes, the smiling body. 

Gordon Hilgers has been writing poetry since age nine, seriously from age 13, really seriously from age 19, then not so seriously beginning in 1985, then super-seriously beginning in 1988, leaving-off in 1992, getting back on the poetry train in 1993.  He has not been too serious since then.  Publications range from Misty Mountain Review, Red River Review, Every Reason, Deathlist 5 and other small and rare publications. 

(Note: "Animal Planet" is a cable television channel in the United States, one specifically designed to please animal lovers. This poem, however, is not necessarily about the television programming.)  

Two poems by Mitchell Krochmalnik Grabois

Quadruplets

Every mama armadillo

bears identical quadruplets

who recall the four quadrants

of the Earth

the South and West from whence she came

the North and East

to which she travels

Where she’s going

where her quadruplets are going

she doesn’t know

No one knows

but they push on

they make their steadfast way

going where God wants them to go

God’s beloved “turtle rabbits”

as the Aztecs called them

They keep their heads down

watch for predators

coyotes bobcats raccoons

Their shells are not always perfect protection

They keep their heads down

They cultivate humility

They move north

They move east

The children grow

and every female armadillo bears

identical quadruplets

who recall  

the four quadrants of the Earth

Cursive

It was taught in third grade in my old school

but in second in my new

so I missed Cursive

and my teacher curled her lip at me

when I told her

and asked for help

She thought I was scum

a homeless kid

mom probably a crack head

dad a deadbeat

missing in action

He was missing in action

but in Afghanistan

In my imagination he was tunneling out of a cave

like a red earthworm through dirt

persistent, tireless

digging from one continent to another

digging his way to me

one day to emerge in sunshine

head first

like an infant

but without the squalling

with a big smile

See… I made it

The teacher still wouldn’t teach me Cursive

so I made up my own curves

modeled after the curly hair

of the dark-haired girl who sat in front of me

The teacher grabbed the paper from my desk

showed it around to everyone

and they all laughed

laughed at the kid with the holes in his tennis shoes

everyone except the dark-haired girl

She recognized herself in my

home-made Cursive

She saw her reflection

and it was the only validation

she had received

for as long as she could remember

She had her own story

as I found out later

  

Mitchell Krochmalnik Grabois’ poems have appeared in hundreds of literary magazines in the U.S. and abroad. He is a regular contributor to The Prague Revue, and has been nominated for the Pushcart Prize, most recently for his story “Purple Heart” published in The Examined Life in 2012, and for his poem. “Birds,” published in The Blue Hour, 2013. His novel, Two-Headed Dog, based on his work as a clinical psychologist in a state hospital, is available for 99 cents from Kindle and Nook, or as a print edition.

One poem by Holly Day

Butterfly Cage

when I was pregnant, all of my dreams

were about snakes. as much as I tried

to dream only about baby kittens, baby puppies

human babies, my nights would be filled

with twisting pythons gathered in knots

inside me, their slick skin undulating

in the dark, pushing and bumping as if

trying to find a way out.

friends without children would ask me

what it was like to be pregnant and I’d

have to lie. I was so worried that

imagining the baby inside me was a coiled serpent

in my stomach

meant that I was already a bad mother

meant something was wrong with my baby.

“It’s like being a butterfly house,” I’d say instead.

“I’m all full of fluttering butterflies.” I’d put his or her hand

on my straining stomach as I spoke, whispering

“Can you feel them move? Can you feel it?

Isn’t it wonderful?”

Holly Day was born in Hereford, Texas, also known as “The Town Without a Toothache.” She and her family currently live in Minneapolis, Minnesota, where she teaches at the Loft Literary Center. Her published books include Music Theory for Dummies, Music Composition for Dummies, and Guitar All-in-One for Dummies.

One poem by Hem Raj Bastola

Carefree bird

Stretching,

White plumage fly

Getting high

Locate a trunk.

Staring and staring

Below the field is wide

Thick and so wild.

Filtering,

To food, every pace

Stooping, slowly

In the swamp

A pond Heron

In and out

It's beak.

Hem Raj Bastola is currently working as a freelance local tour guide in and around Pokhara Valley, Nepal.

He has worked as a Guest Service Agent at the Hotel Pokhara Grande, as a cave guide, inside the cave area for all tourists as well as office assistance in Guptshor Mahadev Cave, as a substitute representative for Sita Travels, as a freelance trekking guide for tourists to the surrounding Annapurna range and as a book salesman in Annapurna Stationary Center.

Hem also enjoys writing poetry, listening to music and collecting stamps.

One poem by Banita Khanal

Hey human!

You live and let us live

It’s fine if you can’t give

But please, please don’t take

Don’t take our freedom

Our freedom to live

Our freedom to breed

You maintain your place

It’s fine if you can’t plant

But please, please don’t cut down

Don’t cut down those trees

Those trees, our shelter

Those trees, our home

You take care of your pets

It’s fine if you can’t love us

But please, please don’t hunt

Don’t hunt us for your enjoyment

We are also like those pets

We are also living beings

You earn from our sites

It’s fine if you want to see us

But please, please don’t destroy

Don’t destroy the jungle

The jungle for the sake of environment

The jungle for your own sake 

Banita Khanal is a freelance writer. She has completed a master’s degree in business studies from Tribhuvan University. She has been posting some of her best poems in her blog. One of her short stories recently appeared in The Kathmandu Post. At the moment, she is in a process to publish a collection of her poems.

Her blog - http://banipoems.blogspot.com/

One poem by Juliet Wilson

Wild Otter Chase


On a remote Scottish island,
an excited TV presenter whispers your name to camera
implying only patience stands between us and you,

We, however, have only ever been teased
by your footprints; leftovers from your meals
found on rocky shores
and stories told in hotel breakfast rooms.

Told in quieter whispers when we return home
are stories of your kind in our city
leaving footprints by our less romantic waters.
Our paths cross yours on every weekend walk.

But you remain invisible.

Juliet Wilson is an adult education tutor and conservation volunteer based in Edinburgh, UK. She edits the poetry journal Bolts of Silk (http://boltsofsilk.blogspot.com). She blogs at Crafty Green Poet: http://craftygreenpoet.blogspot.com. She is currently working on her first novel.

One poem by David J O’Brien

While You Were Away


That little oasis of wildlife you retreat to

When the heat is heavy or the morning bright

Never stops, while you are home, being alive

And busy with staying that way, so that

The fact you haven’t been for days does not

Mean leaves are not now fanned out

Or that flowers ceased to be displayed.

Despite your absence, you can not say

The goose’s eggs have gone unlaid, or

That robins’ nestlings are unready to break

Out of their cerulean prisons, for

Gaping maws to make parents brave

The rain to gather grubs and bugs.

While clouds spread from tree to sea

And you were awaiting warmer weather,

The first brood was fledged and have flown,

Chipmunks opened eyes to go exploring

And those goslings are gone,

Bobbing down to the next pond along

Beyond the bend in the brook.

David J O’Brien is an Irish ecologist, poet, fiction writer and teacher. He currently lives in Pamplona, Spain, where he teaches and writes. He has recently written about deer watching for Ireland’s Wildlife and deer management for the Irish Wildlife Trust. His first novel, Leaving the Pack, will be published in 2014 by Tirgearr Publishing. More of his writing can be found at http://davidjmobrien.wordpress.com/