Writing and painting have no difference,
You wait on your blank canvas muse,
In the mud and slime, an idea blows by,
Maybe you catch it, maybe you don’t,
If you do, suddenly, the seed, becomes
The flower, and then, you are Stein
In Paris, Hemingway on a bender,
F. Scott Fitzgerald’s tortured soul,
Corso’s Gasoline, Italian pasta,
Ann Waldeman’s beat on lips,
Frida’s hallucinogenic mind,
Poole’s brilliant ginger….
Dreaming Diego’s perfect
Box of hummingbirds.
Ken Trimble
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About Ijagun Poetry Journal
Ijagun Poetry Journal is a quarterly journal that provides a platform from which we can tell our own stories in the authenticity of their multiplicity through the poetic medium. We don’t want to hear these stories from our master “griots” alone; we want to hear from those mastering their art, too. Hence, we aim at publishing new and emerging poets. We also welcome the works of established poets in order to encourage the poetic genius of those mastering poetic art. We prize original works that conform to, break or reinvent conventions. Again, we accept reviews and critical essays on poetry. We also accept powerful art works and photographs that make us appreciate the "poetry" in everything.