Author Archives: dianeosiris
Osiris 95
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From the Past
Poems without Pronouns
Osiris welcomes short poems without any personal pronouns. OSIRIS welcomes short poems without personal pronouns. OSIRIS welcomes short poems without personal pronouns, poems that move away from personal narrative and explore multiple points of view. Send 2-3 poems & 50-word biography to osirispoetry@com Deadline is February 20, 2023
Les poèmes de janvier
Les poèmes de janvier viennent tout doucement. Commencent-ils dans les rues de minuit, dans les champs de trois heures du matin ou sont-ils toujours avec nous, sous la peau de l’imagination, respirant et soufflant comme les ours endormis? Osiris voudrait les lire, ces créations de janvier, ces créations qui glissent de l’ordinaire vers l’utopie deContinue reading “Les poèmes de janvier”
Behind the Mirror
We welcome short, abstract prose poems on the theme “behind the mirror” Translucent? Solid? Empty? Reflections or images, dreams or memories… What lies behind the mirror? Another pair of eyes…? Deadline for submission is February 4, 2023.
Reading Period for Osiris 96
We will be reading work for OSIRIS 96 from December 1, 2022 to March 1, 2023. Please send 4-6 unpublished poems and a 50 to 75 word biblio-biography. osirispoetry@gmail.com
From Sam Smith’s The Journal
Osiris 82 Languages in use this issue of Osiris, #82, (60 pages perfect bound $20.00, PO Box 297, Deerfield, Massachusetts 01342, USA. osirispoetry@gmail.com) are English, French, German, Italian, Norwegian and Spanish. Not sure what the opposite of synaesthesia music-colour is, but in this instance Hanne Bramness claims that snow light is noisy. Andrea Moorhead herself seems to pick upContinue reading “From Sam Smith’s The Journal”
Ramblings on Poetry
Greek, Italian, Russian, Spanish, Norwegian, Danish, Polish, French, Romanian, English… Swiveling points of view….a poem from under the tablecloth or next to the window, a poem from the dried blood of major catastrophes, a poem from dreamland or the labyrinth of daydreams, a poem chiseled from prose, from speech, from exclamations of wonderment, a poem-photo,Continue reading “Ramblings on Poetry”
for Simon Perchik
For Si No one noticed the red petals, slipped off the table, onto the wooden floor, the vase still attractive, bold flowers with strong stems. It was sometime in the evening, before the light fell. Rustling, shaking in the woodpile outside. Investigating. No one, nothing. A jet passing, a distant storm. No vapor trail, noContinue reading “for Simon Perchik”