HEAVEN IS A PHOTOGRAPH BY CHRISTINE SLOAN STODDARD – REVIEW

by Ananya WilsonBhattacharya

‘I do not take photos/I give them/as I always give/in love’, the protagonist of Christine Sloan Stoddard’s poetry/photography collection Heaven is a Photograph declares, a characteristically bold admission of vulnerability. These lines, taken from the poem ‘Unrequited Pixels’, evoke an overarching theme of the collection: the emotional intensity of the protagonist’s relationship with photography. Charting the protagonist’s journey, from a childhood as the daughter of a photographer to becoming a photographer herself, Stoddard’s brief and beautiful collection explores the power of both photography and photographer – through a deft and deeply meta combination of verse and photography itself.

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THE LAST WORD FESTIVAL: HERE AND NOW

By Carmina Masoliver

One Sunday, in the quiet folds of The Albany in Deptford, a group of womxn came together to talk about our place in the arts, and specifically poetry. We came to listen, to write, and to share our voices.

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SPRING-BEARING COURAGE

by Alex Valente

Original Italian by Verusca Costenaro (1974 – ), ‘Il coraggio che fa primavera’

It’ll be from your comicseyes

that a new courage will rise

for the autumn, it’ll tangle in the wind

and the wind will paint it snowinter

so that the sun may thaw it

fresh in spring, it’ll be

a bearing of violets and mixture of calls,

cerulean choir bearing life in the background to desire,

the sprint of wings on the field, to feed on the grass that will grow,

summervoice adorned of an evergreen yellow,

a remedy to the fears brought by good

dreams of a small evening in august.

Featured image via caffellattefirenze


The Norwich Radical is non-profit and run by volunteers. All funds raised help cover the maintenance costs of our website, as well as contributing towards future projects and events. Please consider making a small contribution and fund a better media future.

THE HARBOUR

by Alex Valente

Original Italian by Anna Belozorovitch (Moscow, 1983 – ), ‘Il porto’ from Il Debito

The harbour breathes as everything changes;
it carries in its womb the still change,
the evolution to turmoil-based unexpectedness,
the summer heat. And it makes no soundContinue Reading

YARL’S WOOD

by Alison Graham

Content warning: mentions violence against women, rape.

Britain has the greatest area of land dedicated to the indefinite detention of human beings in Europe. This is legal.

See:

A former inmate looks at the place in which her back was physically, literally, broken and says don’t give up. Women thread flowers through this border within a border within a border. The border is admitted only by the letters IRC. Green paint flecks cling to the toes of your boots. On a hill do not question whether the people with the kite-fluttering hands can see you.

Instead:

Is it rare to recall dreams. Where can I find this on gov.uk. If the guards are rapists what does that make the walls. How do you resist the lines you were born the right side of. How do you resist. Can love and hatred happen at the same time, and transform you equally. Are there two kinds of hatred. How about three. How about in the same place, at the same time. And built into the container itself – the beige, the smallness of the windows, the low shade of the roof, the two fields away from the road where no one is living. How are you. Do you need water. Can you read the sign from that window. Is this your first time. When will we deport Theresa. Is there a postcode for here. Have they repainted the fence. Is it really violent to kick it so that it thunders. Who is bringing the smoke flares next time, and in what colour. Do you need water. How do you resist. Is it violence when your window looks over an unreachable place, when that unreachable place is so blooming. Is it when everything is glass and unbreakable. What is the consensus on winding yourself at a border with a child’s party toy to say in a way I make noise therefore you are. Are there two kinds of hatred. How about four. How about one for each piece of sand on a beach in southeast Europe. Do you need water. Is this your first time. Is it violent. When this is all over, will people laugh at the theory of lying flowers on a has-been border, as if it were a wrist.

Featured Image credit: Jan McLachan


The Norwich Radical is non-profit and run by volunteers. All funds raised help cover the maintenance costs of our website, as well as contributing towards future projects and events. Please consider making a small contribution and fund a better media future.

UNTITLED

1

by Alex Valente

Original Italian by Nadia Campana (1954-1985), untitled from Verso la Mente

more of the living during the journey
many horizons for hours and hours
submerged in distanceContinue Reading

THE WOMEN ARE LAUGHING IN THE GYM

by Alex Valente

Original Italian by Caterina Sinibaldi, after Alex Valente’s translation of Andrew McMillan’s ‘the men are weeping in the gym’, ‘le donne ridono in palestra’

the women are laughing in the gym
on smooth backs words run to the music,
thoughts and dreams on sweaty mats.
solitary machines with white towels sing the intimate exhaustion of a quietness
women.Continue Reading

REVIEW: A BOOK OF FRAGMENTS AND DREAMS, REBECCA McMANUS

by Lewis Buxton

Despite being called A Book of Fragments and Dreams, the poems in Rebecca McManus’ collection are far from fragmentary. They speak loudly to one another and are rooted decisively in the people, places, and objects of her life. Unthank Cameo has released this collection posthumously after Rebecca McManus was killed by a speeding driver whilst waiting at a bus stop. She was 21 and just weeks away from graduating from the University of East Anglia.Continue Reading

NOT YET SPRING

by Alex Valente 

Original Italian by Ada Negri (1870-1945), ‘Non è ancora primavera’

Spring? It’s still early February
and there is plenty of snow to fall, still:
still plenty of cold to bite.
And yet, now that I consider it
and take a better look around,
the announcement of Spring is not just
on the mouth of the flower seller
left on the corner of the road.Continue Reading

FRIEND SISTER COMRADE ENEMY

by Alex Valente 

Original Italian by Edith Bruck (1932-), ‘Amica sorella compagna nemica’

Friend sister comrade enemy
for one gesture of yours my pain
could still change and dissolve
at the tip of a mulberry tree
on the sleigh of two planks nailed
by the boy who behind the stable
would caress between our legs with feathers so soft.Continue Reading

LITTLE GIRLS MUST

by Alex Valente

Original Italian by Alessandra Carnaroli (1979-), ‘le bambine devono’. Part of Sartoria Utopia’s Calendario Utopico 2017.

little girls must be
little girls
with long hair
or short if sweaty
with rhinestones

and hairclips
and headbands

they get ready to have children
to behave
to earn less than boysContinue Reading

UNTITLED

by Alex Valente

Original Italian by Annalisa Teodorani (1978-), no title. Part of Sartoria Utopia’s Calendario Utopico 2017.

I still go looking for
fires in the countrysideContinue Reading

THE SMALL THINGS


by Alex Valente

Original Italian by Azzurra D’Agostino, ‘le piccole cose’. Featured in the Calendario Utopico 2017, in May.

The small things, the ones you almost
don’t see, the secrets under your clothes, dreams
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FROM ‘PRAYERS OF THE PLACE OF THE WORLD’

by Alex Valente

Original Italian by Francesca Genti (1975–), da ‘Preghiere del posto del mondo’, in the ‘Ma il mondo, non era di tutti?’ anthology (Marcos Y Marcos)

word, my place in the world,
word who says things,
word who says stories,
who says war and says death,Continue Reading

THE TREE CLOCK

by Alex Valente

Original Italian by Vivian Lamarque (1946-), ‘l’orologio degli alberi’

You were always really
early for any appointment, made
the whole world seem,
late, the world felt bad,Continue Reading

INTERESTING PEOPLE

by Alex Valente

Original Italian by Laura Accerboni (1985-), from ‘La parte dell’annegato’

We are interesting
people.
Our arms are
interesting
as are our teeth,
every sign of resistance
shows something interesting.Continue Reading

TRAVEL WHILE DYING

by Alex Valente

Original Italian by Sonia Gentili, ‘Viaggio mentre morivo’

I travel while I was dying and I was
absent or maybe only
alone: still before the last anchor
of the world as homeland of
the present
I travel where the present is consumed
in the black womb of the light, see-through
like the dark waiting for the moon
it’ll come and it doesn’t come and I
am distantContinue Reading

THE SOURCE

by Alex Valente

Original Italian by Evelina De Signoribus (1978 – ), ‘La fonte’

The day when you have only one thought
the sea shivers and the wheat moves the field
everything calls for the return
though the roads have never been this many
to choose but one, clearlyContinue Reading

A CHILDHOOD MEMORY

by Alex Valente

Original Italian by Maddalena Lotter (1990-), ‘Un ricordo d’infanzia’

We built a house on the sand
then we stamped on it.
On its ruins our supreme leader
decreed it was time to goContinue Reading

BLUE OF DELETION

by Alex Valente

Original Italian by Maria Attanasio (1943-), ‘Rosso…’

Red
which now is blade and shears
flaking wall shadowContinue Reading

THAT HE WAS REAL

by Alex Valente

Original Italian by Margherita Rimi (1957-), ‘Che c’era vero’

– They say nothing is real –

I make up a language
because I’m embarrassedContinue Reading

CRITERION

by Alex Valente

Original Italian by Selenia Bellavia, ‘Criterio’

From the closed recesses of a star
you ask me the real portion
of the clothed hypothesis
you cannot imagine
you do not know the rustle
of the river undivided by an ethosContinue Reading

FIRST LOVE, OF COURSE

by Alex Valente

Original Italian by Valentina Pinza (1982-), ‘Primo amore, naturalmente’

It was love, but we didn’t notice
none of us knew
years have passed
enough
for us to forget everything, the breathing and all the rest
we’ve thrown out those t-shirts
summers and summers ago
maybe even the following year;
that night we watched the stars
who said wishes are lonely?Continue Reading

FROM ‘ON LIVING’

1

by Alex Valente

Original Italian by Martina Campi (1978-), from Sull’abitare

From the following academic day Penelope
drags on her face a pale-sided sun
and, to one side, unravels, extraordinarily powerful
backwards, tightly wrapped up in
cellophane, for the nights to come, the great labourContinue Reading

BEAUTY

by Alex Valente

Original Italian by Rosita Copioli (1948-), ‘Beltà’

Look, everything returns, even the markings on the wall
and behind the bushes the eyes of our heavens
without a reason to be tend towards a return,
they return not to forget, how much each
and every one finds their own pleasure – adspice:Continue Reading

VENICE, AGAIN

by Alex Valente

Original Italian by Verusca Costenaro (1974 – ), ‘E Ancora Venezia’

Venice, again
and the taste of your distant steps.

Water sliding over waves of words,
telling each other of dreams and struggles.Continue Reading

WHAT PEOPLE THINK

by Alex Valente

Original Italian by Manuela Dago (1978-), ‘Cosa pensa la gente’

It’s a wordy problem
even not being able to say
not being able to explain
explain your words
to those listening.Continue Reading

BLACK‘N’BEAUTIFUL

by Alex Valente

Original Italian by Ribka Sibhatu (1962-), ‘So bella nera’

Black market
black cats
black Friday..!
And they call me
‘of colour’.Continue Reading

INVECTIVE AGAINST AUTUMNAL DISPLAYS IN SUMMER

1

by Alex Valente

Original Italian by Alessandra Racca (1979-), from Bastarde Senza Gloria

Jackets in August
coloured, behind the glass
reminding me that soon
summer will be over

You’re so cute,
jackets,
so cruelContinue Reading

THE PEOPLE WANT

by Jo Thompson

Hard to look, hard to understand
the softness of his drowned bones
rocked here by the waters.

How quickly banners can catch alight,
a mumble in the crowd growing up,
becoming certain of itself: the people
want to topple the regime. All’s parched,
and everywhere the green sickens yellow.
Outstretched hands wither into fists.Continue Reading

OF THE INFERTILE VOICE

by Alex Valente

Original Italian by Roberta Dapunt (1970-), from ‘Le beatitudini della malattia’.

So I want to be like the rowan among the larch and the firs
covered by infinite snow. Layered by white
embraces, irreparable sluice of cold reason.Continue Reading

SPACE SPACE I CRAVE

1

by Alex Valente

Original Italian by Alda Merini (1931-2009), from ‘Vuoto d’amore’

Space space I crave, all the space
to sweetly move, wounded;
I crave space to sing to grow
fall and leap across the ditchContinue Reading

THE SKY STILL HOLDS US

by Alex Valente

Original Italian by Mariangela Gualtieri (1951-), from ‘Naturale sconosciuto’

The sky still holds us
does not expel from its rotation
this round home of ours
and we reach the final ledge
with light articulated by stars
no longer looked at if not to call
their name.Continue Reading