THE ENVOY The official newsletter of the
Canada Cuba Literary Alliance I.S.S.N. – 1911‐0693
April, 2021 Issue 109 www.CanadaCubaLiteraryAlliance.org
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EDITOR- Jorge Alberto Pérez Hernández – joyphccla@gmail.com
A WORD ABOUT Sweet Cuba: A Milestone Celebrating Hidden Brook Press and Canada Cuba Literary Alliance Publications MSc Miguel Ángel Olivé Iglesias Associate Professor, Holguin University, Cuba CCLA Cuban President author, poet, writer, reviewer, editor, essayist The Envoy assistant editor When April rolls in with spring chirps and flowers, let‘s take a second to recollect and honor a landmark moment in Hidden Brook Press (HBP) and Canada Cuba Literary Alliance (CCLA) history: the publication ten years ago of a formidable volume, Sweet Cuba - The Building of a Poetic Tradition: 1608-1958. Two prominent men from Cuba and Canada were the masterminds and the souls behind the project. Cuban professor, Manuel Velázquez, CCLA VP, editor and translator at the time, and Canada‘s iconic John B. Lee, Poet Laureate of Canada and an editor of the CCLA, combined to pour their combined talents and hearts onto a demanding task. Its fruition left for posterity one of the – if not the – most remarkable publications ever for HBP, CCLA and the Cuban literary panorama. Sources mark the official publication date as the 1st; others, the 11th of April, 2011. Yet April resonates auspiciously as the month when readerships from Cuba, Canada and the world had the gift of the most representative – the sweetest – of Cuban poetry compiled, translated and commented upon by the two outstanding editors. I read the book. I savored the sugar that flowed in the forging of poetry in Cuba, the sugar that boiled and bubbled sweetening – a sacred, foundational mixture of sugar, sweat, blood and tears – what would be the root and heritage of Cuban poetry, closely linked to our nation´s dreams for independence and our history. The book remains, ten years later, a significant event and a major contribution to history, literature, translation and the spirituality humans seek and need to find in these times of trouble, as John Lennon would say. Thank you, Manuel and John B. Thank you, HBP and CCLA. Thank you, Cuban poets. A highly sentient and knowledgeable expression of what Sweet Cuba means came in the words of Miriam Estrella Vera Delgado (CCLA Poet Laureate, author, poet, writer, CCLA collaborator, The Envoy assistant editor). She sent a letter to Richard Grove (HBP owner and CCLA founding President) and Manuel, which was published in The Envoy 048, July, 2011.
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EDITOR- Jorge Alberto Pérez Hernández – joyphccla@gmail.com
We republish it today as a token of how successful the book was and how Miriam foresaw its transcendental value: Holguín – May 30/2011 Dear Tai, I finished a second reading of Sweet Cuba, and I am absolutely fascinated. It’s a poetic journey through Cuban history with the right choice of poets and poems. Every single person interested in Cuban poetry or history should read this book. I read each poem first in Spanish and then in English; the translations were amazingly good. I was deeply moved. Translating poetry is a very delicate undertaking; it’s not only words; there are feelings included and when the authors are outstanding personalities, the responsibility is overwhelming. I am far from being a specialist but I dare say Sweet Cuba is a work of art. This book is enjoyable from Foreword to Afterword, the two authors having worked with heart and soul, and YES, they are two of the very best. John B. Lee mentions a poet in Holguin who didn’t want to have any of his poems translated. Although I don’t share this stance, I do understand the poet. I have read poor translations that would make the author weep. Could Sweet Cuba be the best book the CCLA has ever published? Certainly it has very special values: it’s easy to read but enriching; one is enjoying and learning at the same time. I feel honored by and rejoice over having the possibility to read this magnificent book. Maybe I am so enthusiastic about it because I am a Cuban but I feel in my heart Sweet Cuba is nothing short of a jewel.” A Review of The Other Life (Mosaic Press) by Patrick Connors MSc Miguel Ángel Olivé Iglesias Associate Professor, Holguín University, Cuba CCLA Cuban President Author, poet, writer, reviewer, editor Author of Forge of Words and In a Fragile Moment. A Landscape of Canadian Poetry (Hidden Brook Press, 2020). Editor of The Heart Upon the Sleeve, Bridges Series Books V (SandCrab Books, 2021), Flying in the Wings of Poetry (Hidden Brook Press), The Divinity of Blue (Hidden Brook Press, 2020), etc. Reviewer of Tamaracks: Canadian Poetry for the 21st Century (Lummox Press, 2018. Edited by James Deahl), Hearthbeat (Hidden Brook Press, 2020. Edited by Don Gutteridge), Invincible Ink by Don Gutteridge (Hidden Brook Press, 2020), The Beauty Of Being Elsewhere, edited by John B. Lee(Hidden Brook Press,2021)
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EDITOR- Jorge Alberto Pérez Hernández – joyphccla@gmail.com
In reading The Other Life (Mosaic Press) by Toronto poet Pat Connors, I was overwhelmed by the solid echo of a biblical axiom, ―Seek and ye shall find.‖ Connors´ underlying and overflowing religiousness and faith transcend the book´s pages to resonate vibrantly in my intimate perceptions of life. Connors is a seeker and a finder. His poems aim at capturing, elucidating and setting course – stormily in many instances, and much for the readers´ edification and construal of their own path – to both his earthly, transient physicality and the spirituality of his ―other life.‖ His search continuously saves him from unraveling those ―whys‖ we all strive for alongside Connors, as Terry Barker explains in his introduction to the book referring to ―Madness,‖ one of the pieces in the collection, ―in which the poem finds relief from the insanities of contemporary life.‖ Barker goes beyond in defining the poet´s achievement, ―Connors‘ ‗other life‘ is, of course, the poetic, or, perhaps more accurately, that of the ‗poetry activist‘, for his life in and around ‗the poetry scene‘ (as opposed to the business world, where he makes his living), is clearly a conduit to the real life, which for him is spiritual…‖ Barker presents a devoted, an aptly polysemantic word, author who ascertains the role of poets voiced by Sainte-Marie, ―The job of a poet is to get information across in a way that‘s effective in making change.‖ (Taken from Tamaracks: Canadian Poetry for the 21st Century, Lummox Press, 2018. Introduction by the editor, James Deahl. The editor refers the reader to Reader’s Digest Volume 191 Number 1,144 (November 2017). Page 38. Print) Connors is a socially committed writer. We only have to read ―Exit Poll‖ to realize it (fragment): ―Promises are made to be broken, --like rotten eggs-but not until the morning after the election. The current state of affairs is merely your reaction to mistakes others made in the past…‖ While at it, he renders a plurality of fine pieces, seventy-three, as varied as the pursuits of his poetic soul, as exploratory as his brainstorming clearing a personal space where his examination of his inner and outer motifs that provide a rooted footing from where to take wing. His poem ―To the Point‖ proves my point. It shows an advocate of change; he speaks of poetry that is ―meticulously crafted‖ and ―to be read by anyone.‖ His dialectical stance is clear in the second stanza (see below): Connors is very aware that change does happen, and stays ―with you forever.‖ It is the eternal now, the now that looks like tomorrow, because there is constant change. As the poet says, this poem is ―an invitation, not only to my poetry, but to have the reader/listener get into the poetic spirit.‖ (fragment): ―The best moments in life are the result of years of preparation passing by in a burst causing change even if you are not ready.‖
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EDITOR- Jorge Alberto Pérez Hernández – joyphccla@gmail.com
His revealing poem ―When My Worlds Collide‖ gives us clues to those storms where he aspires to be calm, or at least grasp and voice. Simultaneously, we sense the peace and hope he has been pursuing (fragments): ―My world was always meant to come together. To have flow, unity, and coherence. Even as a little boy, I lived in many worlds. Problems always would arise when they would collide. Especially when I forced them to. Now, I live in that flow, embrace my reality, the uniqueness of who I am… Now, when my worlds collide, there is no confusion, no fear, no resentment. And I am free to be myself, not the guy I am within any crowd. Now, I can try to help make the world the kind of place I have always wanted to live in. Now that my life has begun.‖ His optimistic and affirmative poem, ―Epic,‖ is about hope and determination, the poet´s objective position as to the present but ―eyes firmly focused on the future.‖ He knows the road is not an easy one, but he will strive on along it. He acknowledges ―the past has passed‖ and the present is ―but a fleeting gift.‖ He is putting all his hopes in what the future brings: ―I will hold out for the future and trust in what the future brings.‖ There is assurance and certainty in his words. The poet has faith, and wants us to feel confidence. Change happens through Connors´ poetry, so do his motivations, his gratefulness, open to experiences and enlightenment within his Canadian context and beyond, as he exposes in ―Freedom‖ (fragments): A people I love but don’t always encounter embrace me as one of their own like we have known each other longer than I have been alive. My gracious host says, “It is a good thing you are here, amigo, in the real Cuba… I want to support them, whatever this means. I want to be a part of this place, their lives. Forever I will carry this desire in my heart as a part of me. We are moved by the sentient believer in ―Credence‖ and feel his profound faith. He evokes an elevated love with his poems. This poem particularly is a hymn to things sacred and essential. He
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EDITOR- Jorge Alberto Pérez Hernández – joyphccla@gmail.com
believes in God and talks about the need for ―reverence, tolerance and respect for all.‖ (fragment): ―I believe in God, whom we may worship in any way fitting, as long as it is a dogma based on reverence; tolerance and respect for all; a spirit which yearns for compassion and peace.‖ If I were to pick stanzas where Connors best illuminates readers as to what his fortes are, I would unquestionably quote these: ―In the depth Of my fears At the end Of my tears I am strong‖ (from ―ambiguity‖) ―I am not what I will be I am not what I once was— and yet I appreciate everything which has brought me here.‖ (from ―The Wonder‖) Thus, we are witnesses to a poet of change, survival and endless hope where he interweaves his aspirations and keeps a steady gaze into the future based on what was and is, and what surrounds him, as he tells us in ―The Moon‖ (fragment): ―I can stare at it for hours sing soulful songs from long ago write fist lines of unfinished poems about everything we‘re missing.‖ The Other Life is a book to ponder and reread seeking so we can always find. Each poem opens doors to feedback and insightfulness leaving a welcome aura of reflection, common sense and spirituality (as Barker points out) inside a world where Connors proves there are paths he knows into another higher life. “Prose-poem by Adis, our CCLA IT girl who writes computer programs, prose and poetry! Here she is with a fine prose-poem and a pic she took!!"
Caletones Travel March 5, 2021 by Adislenis Castro Ruiz
Last night it was raining, but that did not stop us from traveling to Caletones, a small fishing village on the shore of the Atlantic Ocean. Our transport, an electric motorcycle, the family's latest acquisition with the savings of 20 years of work.
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EDITOR- Jorge Alberto Pérez Hernández – joyphccla@gmail.com
The day dawned cloudy. We started the journey around 1:00 pm. The road that connects Gibara with Playa Caletones is an ancient embankment that cries out for repair. The motorcycle zigzagged between potholes and puddles along the winding road. As we passed the Wind Farm, we had to stop as a huge puddle was flooding the road from side to side. We got off the motorcycle and pushed it skirting the puddle. Over our heads stood the ―Quixotic mills.‖ It seemed we were crossing a place in La Mancha. Bump after bump we uneventfully continued the trip. At last, we saw the deteriorated sign "Welcome to Caletones" leading to the ecological reserve. Once we arrived, we settled in. Mr. Covid has not reached here yet but we follow prevention measures to the letter. With our inseparable ―nasobucos‖ (masks) we toured the place.
The Instant by Miguel Ángel Olivé Iglesias
(Poem written in grateful reply to a fine Antony Di Nardo poem-like email. My picture. Taken after being inspired by pro photographer Ann Di Nardo´s awesome photos).
I mentally type you a reply, my dear Antony, as I walk down an avenue on my way to campus. The sight is spectacular too, like yours up there, the cool wind heightening its visuality as if it knew, as if it felt. Before me, clouds lit by a 6:07 am sun share a few seconds of blessings with a humbled one. The road takes a downward turn into the far hills, headed towards infinity, while lampposts bow to the break of dawn and click to ―off‖, aware their light has been replaced by the natural embrace of a shining sun. I absorb it all and follow in Annie‘s footsteps, daring to capture the instant. Ms. Daybreak catches
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EDITOR- Jorge Alberto Pérez Hernández – joyphccla@gmail.com
my complete attention and finally I understand, my friend, why poetry can wait.
Whim by Miguel Ángel Olivé Iglesias (My picture - inspired by pro photographer Richard Grove´s impressive photos).
The wee hours of morning dew me while I attempt to take pics of the sunrise on my walk to work. I am a privileged witness to a sun rising from its 0 altitude searing the skyline in splendid postcard hues gliding up behind a mini-forest of scattered spindly, leafless trees wavering in the caressingly cold wind of dawn. My cell tries its best to contribute to my photography whim yet turns recalcitrantly off probably ashamed of my limited skills. Strike after strike I finally manage to capture the moment, poorly tinker with the image and forward it to my friend Richard Grove (a professional photographer) in the certainty he will find room in his generous mind to appreciate my amateurish effort.
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EDITOR- Jorge Alberto Pérez Hernández – joyphccla@gmail.com
Twilight by Miguel Ángel Olivé Iglesias
(My picture. Taken from my fifth-floor apartment)
The sun is tired today´s deadline is expiring. Westerly incandescence scorches the horizon in sizzling strife vs. another giant, Chronos, and slowly disappears into its cradle beneath. Twilight sun in its millennial procession. I am a blessed witness of slowly-advancing shadows born from a multicolor moment that spreads night´s blanket taking command over bustle and noise translating them into star languages while a realm of sounds is unlocked into a wondrous nightfall. (revised version originally published in the author´s poetry book Forge of Words, Hidden Brook Press, 2020, as “Witness of Twilight”)
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EDITOR- Jorge Alberto Pérez Hernández – joyphccla@gmail.com
WAITING… by Miriam Estrella Vera Delgado I waited long for a Dream Man Twice I thought I had found him I lost all Hope in these long years and now you come to me… Are you a Fantasy or are you True Love? Are you my mate or a bad dream? Your wide smile says I can trust you A shadow says beware of him… I want to believe you are the one just five years late… but my love ...the last! March 28 2021 BLESSED by Miriam Estrella Vera Delgado I must be grateful for all I´ve lived for all the joys and all the gifts… for being reborn twice in my life for a spring of Hope when I was dry… Can I dare dream with Happiness… when I was losing Faithfulness? Can I still expect a miracle… an Oasis of Love when nothing shows? Could it be possible… Only God knows…! March 28 2021
photo taken and edited by Jorge Alberto
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EDITOR- Jorge Alberto Pérez Hernández – joyphccla@gmail.com
Dog Wags Its Tail Why the by Bruce Mayer The simple answer is economy. Whenever a moment requires yes, whenever sunlight fills a bouncing ball or a treat is offered as reward, or praise is worthy of the look he gives, good boy wants to dance inside. But he is clever, subtle, knowing and reserved – he is cautious also because the slightest move might shake the earth or startle birds. He desires the peace you find in souls; he wants your heart to find its God so he sits because he knows you know the sound of wind when it is sleeping or the sound of a blossom as it fades – he hears all you choose to ignore, a pebble tossed in a zen still pool – he is keeping time to the eternal still. Study him carefully. His tongue is out. It is tasting the universe as it all slides by: the dog wags because Earth is moving. Saves his energy for the leap of faith when it spins too fast and you must get off. He‘ll go first if you‘re afraid, and he‘ll stop at nothing to pull you free. He knows you better than you know soul. He will not lose you if you lose yourself.
Pain au Chocolat by Bruce Meyer To live in a time of miracles means nothing, though to love in a time of wonder is what calls us to this world. Today, above the Xin‘an River in Central China, a phantom city floated in the mist, its buildings and towers an enigma as real as if I turned and kissed
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EDITOR- Jorge Alberto Pérez Hernández – joyphccla@gmail.com
you good morning as you set a chocolate croissant before me to dip in my coffee and forget what the world will do in the melee of truth and imagination. Beyond the table and our garden, I believe I see another realm that dawned the instant our lips touched to relieve the silence of loss where love lives. That world is phantom hope, contains the secrets of how the chocolate gives itself to the pastry and yet remains despite the hunger of an oven‘s heat, the separation of delicate layers that rise into a beautiful truth. Great things come to those who ask great prayers.
Focaccia by Bruce Meyer Rosemary is for remembrance, its needles breathe the scent of pine after an autumn rain and dipped in olive oil or spread with the last remaining crumbs of light remember the taste of summer. I know I can never write a poem to pry a fresh warm piece from you. You make it better than words.
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EDITOR- Jorge Alberto Pérez Hernández – joyphccla@gmail.com
Gargoyles and Green Guitars by Keith Inman A stream meandered through the last Roman arch of a bridge spanning the fallow field as the trail churned up. Nylon‘d hikers in chorus step stopped to gaze at turbines raking the sun-filled valley. Jackets ruffling like banners, they continued over the rim, heads down, striding toward their haloed selves on the dry road. In the fields, water troughs intersected ditches to lush canals and an old ship-lock where a man with a green guitar spidered faint chords, his tongue twisting in concert below a plaster wall daggered with directions of a forgot Hospice. Anne swore it was the same fellow from four days ago, and dropped a euro in his felt case. ―Poor soul,‖ she muttered, as they followed an avenue of trees to a squat Romanesque church eaved with gargoyles eating the faithless; the cool interior adorned with simple figurines on thin pillars rose to the curve of unconsecrated ceiling. A kiosk selling postcards stood beside a carved relief of a Templar on horseback; their faces worn away as rays of light stretched stragglers into town, and strains of the day played on the static wind.
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EDITOR- Jorge Alberto Pérez Hernández – joyphccla@gmail.com
Poetry is by Lisa Makarchuk to experience magical moments intense delights of discovery as we ease into rhythm and sound for ecstasy in words. Poets are flashes of lightning cleaving at sealed complacency: Neruda, Hikmet, Tagore, Ho Chi Minh, Brecht, Marti, Garcia Lorca and Ginsberg, Shevchenko, Guillen Mayakovsky, Mistral, Livesay and Whitman Darwish and Dalton open worlds to traverse through diverse perceptions.
photo taken by Norge and edited by Jorge Alberto
Poetry is kindling on fire searing minds with deep insights or it’s an ode ferrying you and me to adulation. We soar with abandon searching for sensuality nurturing love, dazzle, and dash aroused by flows of clever and fresh words unfurled to beckon you and me to forge ideas into new configurations. And at times is the poet only teasing us maybe unwittingly? Published in "The Celebration of Poetry 20th Anniversary Anthology", compiled and edited by I.B. Iskov.
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EDITOR- Jorge Alberto Pérez Hernández – joyphccla@gmail.com
Richard Marvin Grove (Tai) (January 28, 2021)
NOT Dear Wingman: For Miguel
On this Blue, sky-filled day turning to clouds, -8oc, I see an email from you flash across the bottom of my computer screen reminding me that I am not sitting with you with a Jorge special coffee at fingertips sipping the aroma of Cuba with our feet under our dear friend‘s table. My window less office is filled with the blue glow of dancing pixels that spell work, work and more work. In these covid restrained times, government lockdown with no international travel in sight saddens my lament that it might be very many months before I can put a poetry book
photo taken and edited by Jorge Alberto
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EDITOR- Jorge Alberto Pérez Hernández – joyphccla@gmail.com
in your friendly hand. As my saying goes, in a rush, gotta run. All the best tai
A NOTE about Di Nardo´s poem below: I have been privileged by an exchange of poems between outstanding Canadian poets and me. John B. Lee started the ―tradition‖ as we published poems together (with Don Gutteridge too!) a few The Envoys ago. Richard Grove – Tai – has honored me with collaborative work and exchanged poems with me, so has James Deahl. Antony Di Nardo has also favored me with exchanges and his fine, perceptive poetry. When I wrote my ―Days roll slowly by,‖ I sent it to him with a photo. In quick inspired response, he forwarded me his own version! Let´s enjoy it: Antony Di Nardo Days Roll Slowly By —after Miguel Olivé Iglesias
Days roll slowly by Succumb to the distance between sunset and sunrise Who knows how to measure such darkness I just stare blindly and wonder what separates me from the sky And what clouds do to pass the time Waiting for the wind to cycle back the sun
Days roll slowly by by Miguel Ángel Olivé Iglesias Days roll slowly by conquering the distance between sunrise and sunset. I don´t know how to measure it, just stare and wonder at what invisible sky fountains sun and clouds and wind pause to quench their thirst as they cross the cycles of time.
pic by Miguel Olivé
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EDITOR- Jorge Alberto Pérez Hernández – joyphccla@gmail.com
A note from the Cuban Editors, April is the Month of Poetry. We deeply thank Lisa Makarchuk, our winningsmile CCLA VP and first-class editor, who sent us (see above) a heartfelt, highly insightful poem about poetry! Thank you, Lisa! We thank all those who have systematically submitted their poems, stories, pictures, news and support to our newsletter. We close today with a poem about poetry too by John B. Lee. Enjoy it! Kissing the Darkness when the Pages Close my poem is there kissing the darkness when the pages are closed and silent as a dreamer‘s mind the quiet sleep of fragrant ink locked within the verso and the recto like seed life in the frozen earth that longs for warm release in stranger‘s light to feel the fertile germination of a sentient breath transforming tight-packed syllables of interlocking words between the speaking and the hearing lies the soul that moves the hand
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EDITOR- Jorge Alberto Pérez Hernández – joyphccla@gmail.com
TIMADOR de Jorge Alberto Pérez Hernández Ahí se encuentra el reyezuelo del océano sobre las grisáceas peñas días lánguidos lo llevaron hasta allí está castigado se ha robado todos los colores del arcoíris ahí está, donde el sol y el mar se besan ya sus ojos no gozan de alegría ni sus aletas mueven su colorido cuerpo se siente culpable ahora su brillo desvanece solo los pintores y los poetas pueden darle vida. CROOK There lies the kinglet of the ocean over the grey stones languorous days brought him there he has been punished he stole all the colours of the rainbow there he is, where sea and sky kiss each other his eyes no longer show joy nor can his fins move his colourful body he feels guilty his brightness fades now only painters and poets can bring life back to him.
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EDITOR- Jorge Alberto Pérez Hernández – joyphccla@gmail.com
MASTHEAD – Jorge Alberto Pérez Hernández our CCLA ambassador as editor – Miguel Ángel Olivé Iglesias our Cuban president as assistant editor – Adonay Pérez Luengo our Cuban vp as reviewing editor – Lisa Makarchuk our Canadian vp as reviewing editor – Miriam Estrella Vera Delgado our Cuban poet laureate as reviewing editor
Editor joyph@nauta.cu
joyphccla@gmail.com jorgealbertoph@infomed.sld.cu
CANADA CUBA LITERARY ALLIANCE FROM THE EDITOR: IN OUR UPCOMING ISSUES, WE WOULD LIKE SUBMISSIONS FROM EVERY CCLA MEMBER SO THAT WE ARE NURTURED BY YOU! IF YOU HAVE BOOKS COMING OUT, A POETRY EVENT, JUST LET US KNOW!
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