We are going to the moon—that is not very far.
Man has so much farther to go within himself.
— Anaïs Nin
The Lune’s Winter edition—first of the 2017 quarterly—features three short collections of new lyric poetry that chart different courses into the mythological terrain of ecopoetics: Nina Pick's Leaving the Lecture on Dance, Jonathan Simkins's This Is The Crucible, and Thomas Phalen's Useless Lodestone & Other Poems.
Three voices course through concerns equally metaphysical and ecological. “Their language,” writes Marielle Grenade-Willis, “is a solid and flexible reminder that humans are ‘swinging doors,’ constantly connecting our alchemical energies to each other and to our world. Where is the point of transition from constriction to expansion? When does the lodestone shatter the Metatron to embody the crucible? The answer is now and these poets are howling at the crossroads.”
Learn more about each author below.
is the author of two chapbooks, À Luz and Leaving the Lecture on Dance. The recipient of a 2016 Mesa Refuge Poetry Fellowship, her work has appeared in journals such as Arion, Bombay Gin, Tule Review, Stone Canoe, Dark Mountain, and ISLE, online as part of the Tupelo Press 30/30 Project, and in various anthologies. She is a founding editor of the Inverness Almanac and Mount Vision Press and currently serves as lead editor of The New Farmer's Almanac. She holds masters degrees in Counseling Psychology from Pacifica Graduate Institute and in Comparative Literature from UC Berkley, a bachelors with a concentration in Comparative Literature from the Gallatin School of Individualized Study at NYU, and an ordination from the Kohenet Hebrew Priestess Institute.
A Florida transplant, Jonathan Simkins lives in Denver's RiNo District. He is the author with artist Justin Ankenbauer of the ekphrastic chapbook, Translucent Winds (Helikon Gallery & Studios, 2016). The title poem of his second chapbook, This Is The Crucible (The Lune, 2017), received a Best of the Net nomination. His poems have appeared most recently in Crack The Spine and Visitant.
is an Irish/American dual national, raised in the American West. He has been writing poetry nearly all his life, but with a degree of diligent consistency for the last 25 years. He has five "self-published" collections of poetry that he has assembled over the past two decades: Beatific Visions, Ravaged Angel, Love to Ashes, Mountain Wizard, and Achill Sounds. He is a fly-fisher, a poet, a gardener, a marathoner, a student of the French language, an ardent international traveler, and a woodworker.
The serrotenous pinecones open in the
heat and drop seeds into the black earth.
Is there something to be ashamed of?
Is there nothing to be ashamed of?
[ Nina Pick ]
The clock hands spin backwards,
And moths pour in through the air vents.
The way to the river is clear,
And the way to the heart is its compass.
[ Jonathan Simkins ]
I turn to the moon
Pouring silver through the opened window.
The muslin curtains bloom
And the stars fall down on me.
[ Thomas Phalen ]
On Useless Lodestone & Other Poems
On one level there are the quick pirouettes in tone and register, the incredible sprung rhythms (a la Hopkins) and gorgeous sonics, the fruitful anachronisms; on another, the penetrating mind that gathers in the landscape--although seemingly effortless, the result of years of attentiveness and haptic training. The whole affects an enchantment that is the opposite of mystification: rather one feels as if one has gazed through to the core of the living cosmos, which is also to say, all the worthless crap that normally ruins the day falls away. Through a glass clearly." — Gina Maranto