JOHN KINSELLA


John Kinsella established a prominent email poetry discussion list - poetryetc -
some years ago. He is a vegan anarchist pacifist of 16 years. He is an editor and
international editor of a number of well-known literary journals and has had over
30 books of poetry, prose etc published. A literary critic and cultural commentator,
based at cambridge university in england, though at present working as a professor
in the U.S., he also holds an adjunct professorship in Australia. A supporter of
worldwide indigenous rights and an absolute supporter of land rights, he is against
nationalism and the centralised nation-state. He believes that the 'control' of
language is the most significant factor in resisting colonisation, invasion, and
oppression. He believes in decentralised community living, the equality of humans
and animals, and respect for the land. He is totally against any form of violence.
Finally, he believes in cultural and gender respect. Visit his website.






Preservation Haiku
sixth plea for the life of Van Nguyen

Elevated birds;
Plants photosynthesising;
No execution.

We celebrate birth
To enrich the biosphere;
No execution.

Eyes preserve distance;
Up close makes large of the small;
No execution.

The grime wasn't there;
Rain over the window pane;
No execution.

The boat cuts water;
Its wake is soon forgotten.
No execution.

The curved horizon;
The intactness of island.
No execution.






Lightning
a fifth plea for the life of Van Nguyen

We observe night places
so intensely
when rips
of lightning
underscore:
though we look
harder for it,
harder
at the ragged edges
of rock and foliage
levelling apostasy?
The storm ranging
through the valley,
still the smell
of cut oat-stalks:
so brittle
earlier in the day,
broken open
to fuel violence
everywhere
around us.






Tradition
a third plea for the life of Van Nguyen

Even storm clouds of crushing weight
Bring life - brood and effervesce.
Even those who feel it's too late
For clemency, might reassess.






Doina
another plea for the life of Van Nguyen

The serrated fronds of palms waver at the airport;
The condemned is cut off from flight.

The ripe durian fruit is sweetest eaten when the smell's offensive;
The condemned eats, is killed, the bitter-sweet unbalances.

The flowering strands of rice exhale inflorescence;
The executioner eats a meal - before, and after.






Grace
a plea for the life of Van Nguyen

The humidity is increasing here,
and stretched taut through a time zone
we share, there is no argument of nation,
but rather a simple equation
of what's done between sunrise
and sunset - our washing, our eating, our prayers.
In taking a breath that feeds the air
with embodiment, we gasp,
struggle to fill our lungs,
struggle to fill our days
awaiting the sleep we will wake from:
fresh, contrite, enlightened.



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