Valery Oisteanu

The eyelid of the moon just opened The wind is never quiet in the desert Dunes of no return, caravans not ever stopping Where rain falls invisible leaving no trace Shape shifting humps reveal a sphinx At the edge of a...

Valery Oisteanu

Narcoleptic blues To Ruth Sleeping poems burning in my brain “Solitude” tarot card cries out love supreme Submerged ice flows turning to blood Rising and melting through twisted clouds Waves carry the tsunami tow...

Valery Oisteanu

Yevgeny Yevtushenko has Left the Planet On a quiet Saturday in Tulsa, Oklahoma A Russian poet dies, smiling in his dream All his life he waited for springtime But spring never arrived, only sounds The sound of wind w...

Jim Feast

Reading the new book of poetry by Valery Oisteanu, Anarchy for a Rainy Day, which is written in Surrealist style, the author himself an avowed member of this school, makes me think of an earlier, critically powerful critique...

Valery Oisteanu

The Loneliness of a Lost Horseshoe I did not dream a broken bone, a hole in my foot But my limbs suffered from accidental falls Biographers would be seduced by my pain-blues I have shattered my toes, some of them twic...