Wild quark and atom spin kinetic. To spheroid stresses yet unseen. All life pursues a fresh employment. While exercising on mixed green. Set patterns instinct with enjoyment,. Connecting needs sublime and mean. White gulls and gnats here fly to task. Procuring scraps, partaking food. Why does mind brood apart and ask. What I must do to mesh with mood. Public Services Assistant. Note to access a bag for your club, phone Helen, our wonderful book bag lady! I write to fulfill my destiny.
I write to confront everything that confused, vexed and pained me in life. I write to celebrate everything that enlarges me, lends me scope, allows me to fit within this body that contains me. I write so that I might see myself, others, the world and the universe through the only lens that truly transcends the mundane, the probable, the ordinary and restricting - the imagination. I write to extend my own boundaries. If I never published anything again, I would still write for the same reasons….
They are:. The Dead. The winner will be announced on June 5. Or, you could come out and enjoy a reading by some authors that are sure to satisfy all aspects of your palate. All are welcome! South, Thunder Bay. The Ontario Arts Council OAC would like to invite professional writers and spoken word artists to attend an information session to learn more about OAC grants and services.
Do you have questions about:. Information Session Mary J. No RSVP required. The information session will be conducted in English only. For more information please contact Marilyn McIntosh in Thunder Bay at toll-free at or email mmcintosh arts. We would like to thank the Thunder Bay Public Library for hosting this session. All forms of books will be found at the market, from stapled zines to perfect bound books, inclusive of poetry, prose, fiction, non-fiction, graphic novels, and more.
Enjoy a spectrum of guest speakers, readings, live music, and catered refreshments! The market will also feature Soap Box Readings; Writers and attendees are invited to give spontaneous readings on the soap box platform.
Contact reneedefsup tbaytel. What book do you want to find in your stocking of Christmas morning? Send me your pick or picks and all go into a draw for a copy of Caught by Lisa Moore. Send to joanbaril gmail.
Send more than one pick and all goes in the hat. Draw takes place on December Publish your work. All submissions welcome. Poetry, short fiction, memoir, non-fiction - sent to joanbaril gmail.
Can be previously published. As a child, Chacaby learned spiritual and cultural traditions from her Cree grandmother and trapping, hunting, and bush survival skills from her Ojibwa stepfather. She also suffered physical and sexual abuse by different adults, and in her teen years became alcoholic herself. At twenty, Chacaby moved to Thunder Bay with her children to escape an abusive marriage.
Abuse, compounded by racism, continued, but Chacaby found supports to help herself and others. Over the following decades, she achieved sobriety; trained and worked as an alcoholism counsellor; raised her children and fostered many others; learned to live with visual impairment; and came out as a lesbian.
In , Chacaby led the first gay pride parade in Thunder Bay. Ma-Nee Chacaby has emerged from hardship grounded in faith, compassion, humour, and resilience. Her memoir provides unprecedented insights into the challenges still faced by many Indigenous people. Prophet wore to shield tired feet,. Useless for grim frozen clime, cold. Heavy-wet, white-burdened street. Grimy toenail poked hole through. When eyes widened and locks flowed.
Stares askance curb-curious drew. Topcoat full length hung as cape loose. Madman's mantle, sable drape long,. Style matched darkly one who grieves. Personage by warmth taught new birth. Stated present season's true worth. Tossed in drop-in church together,. Makes soles needed on burnt routes. Once heat visits snow-clogged climate. Foretold chapped lips optimistic,. For when bright bud bursts in flower,. Sage remarked Spring seemed delayed here. Yet claimed solstice still neared site. Such pronouncement briefly stayed fear.
Six months later words proved right! In city park stands fountain frozen. French student passing called fontaine. My guess, last keeper here had chosen. To leave with wage and not maintain. Ice arcs spout out of every nozzle. Since hid tap no hand turned to drain. Around, about, keen motes bedazzle.
Behind, slate sky contrasts pink stain. Fortuitous, last gardener's blunder. Flares pyrotechnics, unrehearsed;.
For viewers awesome vitreous wonder. Oh, surely, unseen pipes have burst! Composed streams pose in air arrested. Now it's four weeks beyond December,. Surpass spell story-book suggested,. Great stuff of fairy-tales-remember? Glaze glints once water, winter glimmer. Fantastic, unmoved, moving shimmer,. A warm-dressed couple stroll together. Beside those jets from granite base;. See each direction shoots arched feather,.
White-frosted edges spread frond grace! Soon stony mood-gem feelings alter. Until dusk's weakened glanced rays falter. Hard wish is soft scene stays-but can't. Sent curves are straightway lines extended. So caught Experience-still-might last. More hours than Happenstance intended,. Freeze-frame bright Present from dark Past. Conclusion comes, as when cold started,. Where sapphire astericks fondly wink;. Conveys most clearly Truth imparted. While sight font-thirty eyes both drink:. Arrangement, catch bouquet mid-motion,.
Clutch close glass flowers until they melt. Would Beauty, Wisdom, crystal notion. Pause thus so Mind learns Love heart-felt. Monday, November 23, New book venue from Edgar Lavoie. Hi Joan,. I'll be sharing a book table with a fellow author at the Xmas Market advertised in this poster. The location is between Edward St. Please share this with friends. Hello Joan. He's sixteen years old and has had the most fleeting of relationships with the man.
The rare moments they've shared haunt and trouble Frank, but he answers the call, a son's duty to a father. Georgie McCool knows her marriage is in trouble; it has been in trouble for a long time. She still loves her husband, Neal, and Neal still loves her, deeply — but that almost seems beside the point now.
CommuniTea and Coffee. Dear Joan,. Come out and hear how four local writers began their journey into writing, what inspires, motivates and drives them.
Find out how they get started and get advice on how you can turn a desire to write into a reality yup, even if you work and don't think you have time!
Oh, and enjoy some coffee and tea! Wednesday, November 18, Kim Launches a Video and it is lovely!!! Viewings will be at pm, 3pm and pm. The video was directed by Sonja Obljubek and it is her magical, dreamlike storyline that is depicted. Director of Photography was Piotr Skowronski. In addition, Lakehead Unitarian Fellowship will be serving refreshments, in support of their Syrian refugee fund. It would be lovely to see you there if you can make it.
For those who are unable to attend, you can view the video on YouTube or Vimeo - the links are on my website Home Page and Projects Page www. The album has been receiving high praise in Europe and in Canada. All of this has been made possible by you! Many thanks, once again. Kim Erickson www. More information later. When her parents died young, she was supported by loving family members, her aunt Janet Riley and cousins Margaret and Ruth Fuller, all of whom have predeceased her.
Dear Joan. The workshop takes place on November 17, at Waverley Library at 7 pm. NB Please note the venue. It is Waverely and not Brodie as appeared on a few posters!!!
Tuesday, November 10, Giller Winner Sunday, November 8, "Develop your analysis, learn your history and always keep reading. The book business is on the move. Independent book stores across the continent are breathing easier now that e book sales are down and independent sales are up.
But meanwhile, many independents, including some in Thunder Bay, have closed. Even used book stores have been hit hard. All, all have joined so many others and folded.
Except one. Friday, November 6, Yo! Well Done Sonny. Born Inbetween. Thursday Seems a Year Ago. Bury Them Deep. You Bring the Miracles. Never Been as Good. Ostrich Bed. Stepping Lightly on the Ancient Path. Sleeping When the Sun Comes Up. Martes 7 de Julio de Jueves 9 de Julio de Viernes 10 de Julio de Domingo 12 de Julio de Lunes 13 de Julio de Martes 14 de Julio de Jueves 16 de Julio de Viernes 17 de Julio de Domingo 19 de Julio de Lunes 20 de Julio de Martes 21 de Julio de Jueves 23 de Julio de Viernes 24 de Julio de Domingo 26 de Julio de Lunes 27 de Julio de Martes 28 de Julio de Jueves 30 de Julio de Viernes 31 de Julio de Domingo 2 de Agosto de Lunes 3 de Agosto de Martes 4 de Agosto de Jueves 6 de Agosto de Viernes 7 de Agosto de Domingo 9 de Agosto de Lunes 10 de Agosto de Martes 11 de Agosto de Jueves 13 de Agosto de Viernes 14 de Agosto de Domingo 16 de Agosto de The band's brand of angst-ridden rock was not a familiar offering from Creation, and many at the label were dubious about its appeal, but The House of Love crafted a sophisticated, contemporary sound built around the playing and effects-pedals of remarkable guitarist Terry Bickers who brought astonishing life to the compositions of singer Guy Chadwick.
The songs themselves are full of contrasts. It is more often than not Bickers' sensibility which manages to lift a song beyond the ordinary, the guitarist never seeking to impose his presence, but working so delicately it is hard not to be quietly thrilled with the results. The best moment is 'Christine' single 53 , brilliantly dragged along by droning guitars, but there are high points everywhere with the band as comfortable when rocking as in their more thoughtful moments.
A bonus seven-inch single featuring demos was included with the initial pressings. CD Cover. Coming in at under twenty minutes, Felt's fifth contribution to the label did not even feature mainman Lawrence, but was solely put together by keyboardist Martin Duffy and drummer Gary Ainge.
It is rumoured by David Cavanagh in his epic book about the label that this was solely released so Duffy could afford to buy a vibes piano from a former band member, and whether that is true or not, the instrument features heavily in Felt's second release with no words. The tunes are a mixed collection of jazz and ragtime numbers and at times it sounds like the background music in a middling American restaurant, with plenty of cliches thrown in for good measure. The opening track is probably the best, a jolly plinkalong that is long enough to have some substance.
Oh My Lord What did she name him? My Lord The people keep coming but the train has gone. Who heard the singing? My Lord Who heard the singing? Oh My Lord Who heard the singing? Joy To The World cover lyrics coming. Vivienne Williams appears courtesy of Benchmark Recordings. Moon in the water Cold light in the streets Warmth in your fingers Sweat in your sheets Laid out like an offering Where two currents meet The river is dark But the water is sweet. Scanning These Crowds I was half asleep in the washroom when they came in Eyes like moonlight on barbed wire and veins showing under the skin The uniforms made me nervous, I got ready for the chase But they left me scanning these crowds for some sign of your face.
Something fell on Saskatchewan in Where is it now that we need it, in this century of jive? In the southland of the heart Where night blooms perfume the breeze Lie down Take your rest with me.
In the southland of the heart Where the saints go lazily Lie down Take your rest with me. In the southland of the heart Everyone was always free Lie down Take your rest with me.
Train In The Rain Instrumental. Also On: Speechless — 8. This current flows between us That will not be denied You draw me in towards you Like the moon pulls at the tide May no shadow ever fall That will make me have to call You someone I used to love. Sunrise On The Mississippi Instrumental. Gone from mystery into mystery Gone from daylight into night Another step deeper into darkness Closer to the light. Musicians: Bruce Cockburn: acoustic guitar and vocal Richard Bell: organ Christopher Parker: drums, percussion — not credited Colin Linden: electric guitar, vocal Jerry Scheff: bass Also On: Slice O Life — Featuring a variety of musical influences, coupled with intelligent lyrics and catchy melodies, Dart to the Heart is an accessible and likeable album.
Thanks to all those who put up with, and put out for, the demands presented by the making of this record: Sue; T Bone and Sam; Glyn, Glynis, Ethan and Samantha; Dana; and all the players. And in the absence of a vision there are nightmares And in the absence of compassion there is cancer Whose banner waves over palaces and mean streets And the rhythm of the night train is a mantra. Also On: Anything Anytime Anywhere — 2. Somebody stands in a window Watches the river roll Trains rumble in the foreground With the weight of approaching dawn.
Flames from the refinery Rise broken, red and riveting And the high vault of heaven Looks far away and cold. Blood and ashes — time burning On the skyline dark against the stars A solitary horseman — waiting.
Mistress Of Storms Instrumental. Also On Speechless — 5. Sometimes a wind comes out of nowhere And knocks you off your feet And look, see my tears They fill the whole night sky The whole night sky.
Derailed and desperate How did I get here? Hanging from this high wire By the tatters of my faith. Sometimes a wind comes out of nowhere And knocks you sideways And look, see my tears They fill the whole night sky The whole night sky.
In my heart I hold your photograph And the thought of you comes on like the feel of the coming rains. And somebody will be peddling vials of penicillin stolen out of all the medical kits sent to the countryside.
Live On My Mind See you standing in the door against the dark Fireflies around you like a crown of sparks You blow me a kiss that blurs my vision Blurs the human condition. Light me like incense in the night Light me like a candle burning bright Light me like a searchlight in the sky Time means nothing when I look in your eyes.
Car slows beside him as he walks Hubcaps slow revolution Jaundiced-looking pockmarked face, round in window Short greasy black beard. This goes on halfway across the cobbled bridge Driver pulls ahead — gets out by the construction fence Ambles towards him rubbing the bulge in his pants. In his jacket is the revolver The hand is already in the pocket for warmth and fingers slide easily around wood grips.
Slow revolution — — crosswise in a hammock in the hot volcanic hills Its 3AM the night after the air raid From the ridge she watched A37s, like ugly gulls, Make a dozen swooping passes over some luckless town Maybe ten kliks beyond the border In the distance the Pacific glimmered silver. Tongue slides over soft skin Love pounds in veins brains buzzing balls of lust Fingers twine in wet hair Limbs twist and roll.
On the dresser wax drips in slow motion down the long side of A black candle Ecstatic halo of flame and pheromone-. Across the concrete fields of man Sun ray like a camera pans Some will run and some will stand Everything is bullshit but the open hand. If I loose my grip, will I take flight? BMI All rights reserved. Used by permission. Woodman for her wisdom, the folks at City Stages, God for always keeping the ladder in place. Call It Democracy 2. Stolen Land 3.
Strange Waters 4. Fascist Architecture 5. Birmingham Shadows Originally recorded for the Buzz Kemper and Steve Gotcher, producers. Deep in the city of the saints and fools Pearls before pigs and dung become jewels I sit down with tigers, I sit down with lambs None of them know who exactly I am.
Languid mandalla of the ceiling fan Teases the air like a slow stroking hand Study the faces, study the cards Study the shadow creeping over the yard. Trouble with the nations, trouble with relations Where you going to go to find illumination? Too much to carry, too much to let go Time goes fast — learning goes slow.
Humid gleaming precious well Love to drink that water Parallel worlds when the sun goes down The atmosphere grows hotter. I slip through the glistening gate Tide began to pound Tears of light poured over me And ricocheted all around. If this were the last night of the world What would I do? What would I do that was different Unless it was champagne with you? I look west along the red road of the frail sun Where it hovers between shelf of cloud and spiky trees, Receding shore;.
The world is full of seasons; of anguish, of laughter And it comes to mind to write you this:. Nothing is sure Nothing is pure And no matter who we think we are Everyone gets his chance to be nothing. Down To The Delta Instrumental.Sleeping When The Sun Comes Up: Joe Shumo And The Eskimo: Publicada por Unknown à(s) Sem comentários: The Weather Prophets - Judges, Juries & Horsemen ( The Weather Prophets - Diesel River (Warner ) The Weather Prophets - .