Gentle, yet heartfelt greetings to all of you discerning drinkers of the warm and aromatic coffee of life that is the IWS website.Renown poet and IWS Literary Editor, Paul Piatt here once again in order to share with you some of today’s finest in the world of poetry, prose, and people.
Today during our bi-monthly and continuing journey of words made magical, and life’s pentameters made iambic, I introduce you to a fellow poet and a dear friend of some thirty-five years…
The world renown Russian born poet, or poetess if one prefers…Mischie Karmakova.
For those of you well-intentioned persons who long to share in the intellectual dalliances of fine poetry, yet never seem to get around to it, allow me to offer unto you some background on the lovely Mischie Karmakova.
Upon the collapse of the Soviet Union in 1991, she at the tender, yet not untainted nor un-jaded age of 25, emigrated to the United States and settled in the bucolic town of Newburgh, NY.
It is there that she began to pen her rhythmic words that speak brutally, reflectively, yet eloquently on her desperate past, her discordant thoughts on what the future holds, and her more than amorous relationship with vodka.
Her first book to be published in the U.S was her critically acclaimed 1997 book of poetry, Vodka Da, Whiskey Nyet, which charismatically compared and contrasted her feelings about the differences between living in her former homeland of Mother Russia and her new life in the United States.
From the aforementioned book, a poem she wrote titled, I Thought Potatoes Were the Only Vegetable, she clearly illustrates the lushness and richness of America’s bounty…
I had heard that far beyond my hammer and sickle borders,
things such as peas, such as carrots, and such as justice…existed.
Little did I know until I moved, that the potato upon which I had filled my body all those years,
was merely the empty starch that is Communism.
Following three more books that combined and varied in degrees of angst, wit, and hopelessness, she produced in 2005, her award winning poetic stylings that culminated in the classic book…
Ad Hominem…An Attack Upon Myself
I was tied….No, I was chained.
The ball whizzed by like cosmic rain.
Trying to be still. Hoping to be free.
Gulags and tether balls make me want to pee.
And now, let’s fast forward to today.
Just last week Mischie launched her seventh and perhaps best offering from her heart…
Fuchsia and Fornication
The book is laced with stories from her life and as always, each beat, pause, and poetic outpouring is besmirched with the beautiful and masterful verbal paintings of her well-honed craft.
For instance, a line or two from the title poem of her book, Fucshia and Fornication…
I looked hot in my fuchsia dress.
A box of donuts against my chest.
And from the street, there he waved.
He looked like Dad, so I went; I caved.
And as I approached he waved some bills.
He said he’d pay me to give him thrills.
I was so crushed, he was a John.
My fuchsia dress had done me wrong.
Beautiful as always Mischie; beautiful as always.
For now, as I travel the road less traveled,
Paul Piatt
And of course folks…Jayman and Matt-Man did another award winning IWS Radio Show yesterday that focused on Turkey Trot Week in Yellville, AR., so if you didn't catch it, you can listen here:
Cheers!!
Matt-Man mattmaniws@ymail.com
@MattMan_IWS
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Poetry 'n' Such With Paul Piatt Updated at :
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Wednesday, October 10, 2012
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