Wednesday, February 8, 2017

Margaret Saine's Literary and Artistic Imagination in "Lit Angels" - Our First Poetry Book of 2017

Lit Angels by Margaret Saine, 
96 pages (xiv + 82 pages), illustrated with 14 photographs.
Moonrise Press, February 2017
Distributed by, soon on Amazon and other online sites.

Paperback, ISBN  978-1-945938-02-3, $15.00
Color Paperback, ISBN 978-1-945938-04-7  , $35.00
EBook, Apple Books, iTunes, Nook, etc., ISBN 978-1-945938-05-4, $10.00

The First Reading is scheduled for February 26, 2017 at 4:30 p.m. 
Bolton Hall Museum, Tujunga, CA 91042
See the Village Poets Blog for more details. 


Lit Angels (=Literature Angels ~ Angels of Light) is a collection of poetry inspired by literature and the arts. Written in English, the volume includes several translations into German, Arabic, French and Italian. 

The poet, Margaret Saine, writes about her work: “Lit, past participle of ‘to light’, and Lit, abbreviation for literature? Lit used by people who love it so much they breathlessly shorten it to one syllable? Light and Literature, the mainstays of human lives, wherever we are, whenever we are so privileged. Literature and Light are best friends. But especially here, in the City of Angels, my chosen home [German ‘Wahlheimat’], Light and Literature, where people of vastly different origins, cultures, and religions try to get along. I’m part of this world, and I want to be.”


Margaret Saine lives in Los Angeles. After a doctorate in French from Yale, she taught Spanish at universities in California and Arizona. She writes poetry, haiku, and short stories in five languages and also translates other poets. Her books are Bodyscapes, Words of Art, and five haiku chapbooks. Poetry manuscripts ready for publication include The Five Senses, Reading Your Lips, Words of Winter, and While Alive, as well as Paesaggi che respirano [Breathing Landscapes], to be published in Italy. She has recently completed As You Were Saying, a dialogue with American poet William Carlos Williams.


The poetics of Margaret Saine is a pleasant flight, ranging back and forth between signifiers and the signified, judiciously exploring art and nature. Each element is endowed with meaning, connecting it with human presence and human feeling. Under the poet’s gaze, a movement in time occurs that returns it to us, it tells us of other voices who are leaving traces in personal and universal history. An interesting, marvelous exchange occurs between the forms of being and their most profound abode, like a window to the sun, opening and smiling at us.

~ Rita Stanzione, poet and science instructor, Salerno, Italy

In Margaret’s poetry we listen to the inner voice of a poet who is committed to building bridges. Beyond the versatility of her topics, the vividness of her images, and the richness of her style, almost every poem she writes is an expression of this quest – building bridges of peace between people, nations, and, in a very intricate way, between the individual and his or her inner self. 

~ Nizar Sartawi, poet and translator, Amman, Jordan

Like her photography, Saine’s poems breathe movement, shadow and light that immediately transports the reader to the experience of moving within the social fabric of her woven words.

~Virginia Jasmin Pasalo, poet and editor of “The Tree Anthology,” Manila, The Philippines


 This book is Margaret's elegant, wise, and worldly oeuvre - a distilled reflection of her sagesse and sophistication. Enjoy it!

~ Mani Suri, poet and member of Poetic License Group, Los Angeles, California



A luminous blue creamy and light like looking into a blooming artichoke
Panels of soft light partitioned like dreams 
that may come when we have not yet shuffled off this mortal coil
But think of blue the soft sheen of silk of stories in morning air of hope and promise
Spaces of light spaces of trees sun and the ambiguous 
flat spaces that absorb it fighting blocks of dark
Slanted towards a hazy future ours for the taking the wanting the hoping.


How can you fall in love with a bird
maybe as the voice of someone
you hold dear in your heart but distant.
You long to get your hands

on her, your ears on her hazy voice.
Then in your other dealings
you forget the darling sounds
that promise to wound and heal

so that your daily life becomes
an unctuous and tortuous battle.
Until one day in the plaza

you hear that pristine voice again
from the bird cages of your search
which was a search for the right one.


I love breadcrumbs
and pick them
from wherever they land
tablecloths, sofas, my chest
you name it

I once read that
breadcrumbs are for the gods
If so how nice they have
good taste like me

If so on second thought
they might be angry
that I rob their crumbs

I sincerely hope
there is a goddess among them
who will smile at my folly
and placate the others
into forgiving me
for stealing their crumbs

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