Επιμέλεια: Εύα Πετροπούλου Λιανού
Bio: Scott Thomas Outlar is originally from Atlanta, Georgia. He now lives and writes in Frederick, Maryland. His work has been nominated multiple times for both the Pushcart Prize and Best of the Net. He guest-edited the Hope Anthology of Poetry from CultureCult Press as well as the 2019-2023 Western Voices editions of Setu Mag. He is the author of seven books, including Songs of a Dissident (2015), Abstract Visions of Light (2018), Of Sand and Sugar (2019), and Evermore (2021 – written with co-author Mihaela Melnic). Selections of his poetry have been translated and published in 14 languages. He has been a weekly contributor at Dissident Voice for the past eight and a half years. More about Outlar’s work can be found at 17Numa.com.
Selah, Scott Thomas Outlar
The Tapestry of Amphitrite
The energy of fluidity
continual movement
progressive evolution
ebb and tide
flux and flow
emerging from and returning to the source
the primordial soup
genetic oceanic stew
tadpole to frog
embryonic waters
the depths of the subconscious
subterranean dives
dolphins and whales
ancestors still at sea
what creatures lurk beneath
where sunken treasures rest
the quenching of thirst
the essence of blood
tributaries and veins
rivers and arteries
channels and chambers
algae and roots
ripples and waves
sighs of the sea
nature’s primal roar unleashed
Governor
Pretty bird, pretty bird
soar either way across the street
or hum loud enough above the music
and thick tinnitus
to start this poem forthright
There are two parks
within one mile from home
and I have walked them
3,500 times or so
since returning
I try to keep
my obsessive compulsions
framed
in a positive light
soft as a feather
so I can stay flighty
and continue dancing
as these bones crumble
The reason I hesitate to speak about
my own suffering
is because I know everyone else
has their own
bouts with the world
to contend with
I lick my wounds in the woods
and rub coconut oil in both eyes
God, you know
the burn feels good
but saps and salves are better
Rabbit Totem Ginger
What now, a witness?
To the annihilation
of old wine skins
Who said it best?
Who drank himself under the table?
Who kicked it over?
If we dare not cause a stir nor peep
If we fall silent of provocative nature
If we bite our tongues
bloody lips, crucifix, crown of sorrows
I will not wear it with your woes
but utter instead the great affirmation
Who was not forsaken?
Who sipped from the chalice of fortunate spirit?
Who gave to the apple no teeth and one eye?
What now, a whitewash?
To the decimation
over fields of famine
Who licked the frog-scale scrolls?
Who authorized the branding of leather?
Who ate of the plague to starve cancer?
