what took so long to getherenine months nine centuriesof sweat & sweetflowering ghostlystamens carried away bythe wind : leafto leaf &mouth to mouth a hungrymoon steps in— stop the flowwe are as happy as ourwordsI'll be you remembrancestigma & you fromfar away sowinghours scatteringloosewhatever remains
“erotica” from TRAVELING WITH THE GHOSTS: by Stella Vinitchi Radulescu.
Published by Orison Books on December 31, 2021.
Copyright © 2021 by Stella Vinitchi Radulescu.
All rights reserved.
Reproduced by Poetry Daily with permission.
Stella Vinitchi Radulescu, Romanian-American poet, Ph.D. in French, is the author of many collections of poetry published in the United States, Romania and France. She writes poetry in English, French and Romanian, though she does not translate any of her work between languages. Her poems have appeared in a variety of literary magazines in the United States, France, Belgium, Luxembourg, and Romania. Her French books have received several awards, including the prix Amélie Murat and the Grand Prix de la Francophonie. Her last two collections of poetry I Scrape the Window of Nothingness (2018) and Traveling With the Ghosts (2021) were published by Orison Books. A Cry in the Snow, translated from the French (Un cri dans la neige, Editions du Cygne, Paris) was published in 2018 by Seagull Books. In December 2021, Publishers Weekly wrote of her work, “The impressionistic latest from Radulescu weaves fragmentary poems that explore themes of time, memory, writing and death….These meditative, metaphysical poems are rewardingly dense with surprising turns and images.”
“The impressionistic latest from Radulescu [Traveling With the Ghosts] weaves fragmentary poems that explore themes of time, memory, writing, and death. […] These meditative, metaphysical poems are rewardingly dense with surprising turns and images.”
“This timely collection [...] is an exploration of that metaphysical place where language and thought meet. This is not a book that instructs, it is one that feels, and it feels deeply.”
“[Radulescu] searches for a sentence that would resurrect lost species, crickets and frogs, but has learned that 'the only way to Paradise / is not to ask.' Not to use words as a map. Still, she prays, 'let me clean the air / with a vowel / or two' and constructs her new sentence 'void by void,' beginning with emptiness as we all do every time we sit down with a blank page.”