Ann Arbor Review


Gerald Clark
Lyn Lifshin
Paul B. Roth
Ndue Ukaj
Anne Babson
Laszlo Slomovits
Qinqin Huang
Duane Locke
Adhar Maheshwari
Shutta Crum
Odimegwu Onwumere
Anthony Seidman
Chris Lord
Running Cub
Amit Parmessur
John F. Buckley &
Martin Otto

Joanie Freeman
Alan Britt
Jennifer Burd &
Laszlo Slomovits

Sonnet Mondal
Karyn M. Bruce
John Tustin
Jennifer Burd
Michael Gessner &
Daniel Davis

Martin Camps &
Anthony Seidman

Fred Wolven

Holly Day

M. J. Iuppa
John Grochalski
Catherine O'Brien
Joe Milford
Byron Matthews
Joseph Murphy
Dike Okoro

Steve Barfield






Ann Arbor Review

is an independent

International Journal & ezine

Copyright (c) 2012 Fred Wolven
All rights revert back to each poet.
--editor / Southeastern Florida


Fred Wolven, editor

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The angels are descending slowly,
With love
Over your fiery letters
Kissing only the pain that you know
Kissing only the love that you see
Kissing the solitude touched only by you.
Caressing the Oh of the bountiful spirit
The brave poetry.

Then slowly and slowly
Caressing your stone like tears
The wrinkled cheeks where the fatherland
Of pain has been hit with the times
Through the screaming metaphors
Screaming all night and day.
Oh, quiet and scream, scream and keep quiet
In a parallel fashion,
And emerge with a Sunny smile
In the blue mornings with thickened pupils
In the black nights with frightening storms.

They call you beautiful, call you a Queen
They call you many names
And you are, quiet as solitude
With noise like sadness
Bending your lifelong pain
The endless mystery, just as the creation
Where happiness and pain are hit in the mirror
And roll the soft vision through the lips
From mouth to mouth

As a rapacious bird in silence gathers
Sometimes pain and at times engulfed in happiness.
Oh luck poetry that loves endlessly.


Ndue Ukaj, Pristina, Kosovo
trans. by Peter Tase, Albanian

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