Two Poems by Scott Thomas Outlar


Transcending Definitions

Art is not an institution…
it is an inner fire
born out of those
whose eyes pierce deeply
into hidden burning beauty.

Art is not a class taught by Academia…
it is a holy vibration
pulsing through the veins
of those who sense the truth
of this world’s perfect purity.

Art is not a transaction…
it is a soulful expression
that has no choice
but to be released
as a reflection of the Source.

Art is not a sales pitch…
it is an intense emotion
coupled with a vision
of crystalline transcendence
that ruptures open new dimensions.

Art is not yet ready for the grave…
it is a raging protest
against the mortal flesh
that sings the sweetest melody
about overcoming life’s suffering.

© Scott Thomas Outlar



Definisies Sonder Perke

Kuns is nie ‘n instelling nie…
dit is ‘n innerlike vuur
gebore vanuit diegene
wie se oë diep binne
versteekte brandende
skoonheid inboor.

Kuns is nie ‘n klas wat deur
Akademia geleer word nie…
dit is ‘n heilge vibrasie
wat deur die are klop van
diegene wie die waarheid
van hierdie wêreld se perfekte
suiwerheid aanvoel.

Kuns is nie ‘n transaksie nie…
dit is ‘n sielvolle uitdrukking
wat geen keuse het as om
losgelaat te word as ‘n
weerkaatsing van die Bron.

Kuns is nie ‘n verkoopsvoorstel nie…
dit is ‘n intense emosie gepaardgaande
met ‘n visie van kristallyne transendensie
wat nuwe dimensies oopskeur.

Kuns is nog nie gereed vir die graf nie…
Dit is ‘n kwaadaardige protes teen
die sterflike vlees wat die mooiste
deuntjie sing oor hoe om die lewe
se leiding te oorkom.



Chaos enters the spaces of stagnation,
not to obliterate,
but to break down what is not working
so the inherent pattern of order
can emerge in a new light,
and the holy path of inward peace
can once again be seen clearly.

The choice to destroy
is not necessarily negative
but sometimes absolutely necessary
as a way to tear away
at a dilapidated structure
so a more solid foundation
can be established
upon which to build
a temple of health, happiness, and love.

Life is not always easy,
but the trials and tribulations
are inherent in the process of progression
as a way to push evolution forward,
and the challenges that naturally arise
are a Godsend of grace
presented to teach the lesson
that we are creatures of adaptation and survival.

© Scott Thomas Outlar

(Nominated for the 2016 Pushcart Prize)




Chaos dring die spasies van
stagnasie binne,
Nie om verwoesting te saai
nie, maar om af te breek dit
wat nie werk nie sodat die
inherente patroon van orde
in ‘n nuwe lig kan ontluik,
en die heilige pad van innerlike
vrede weereens duidelik
gesien kan word.

Die keuse om te verwoes
is nie noodwendig negatief nie,
maar soms absoluut nodig as
‘n manier om stelselmatig ‘n
vervalle struktuur uitmekaar
te trek, sodat ‘n meer standvastige
fondasie ingestel kan word waarop
‘n tempel van gesondheid, geluk
en liefde gebou kan word.

Die lewe is nie altyd maklik
nie, maar die opdraande en
afdraande is deel van die proses
van vooruitgang as ‘n manier om
evolusie te laat voortduur, en die
moeilkhede wat van natuur ontstaan,
is ‘n Godgegewe genade aangebied
om die les te leer dat ons wesens is
van verandering en oorlewing.

(Genomineer vir die 2016 ‘Pushcart’/ ‘Stootwaentjie’ Prys)


Scott Thomas Outlar hosts the site where links to his published poetry, fiction, essays, interviews, and books can be found. He recently received three Pushcart Prize nominations for his work in 2016.
Scott is a proud member of The Southern Collective Experience; he also serves as an editor for Walking Is Still Honest Press, The Blue Mountain Review, and The Peregrine Muse.

Links to all his books can be found here

Two Poems by Soodabeh Saeidnia

Rebellious Wish

Of those hundred thousands of wishes
that you’ve hidden somewhere in Andromeda
beneath a pile of ethanoic expectations
above the climax of unbridled demands
in between the surreal and real creatures
and highly protected by Leo and Canis major,
may you please send me a small one
a simple, a peaceful, an easy dream
drifting through a shooting star?

May I receive it on Mount Sinai
or the Dead Sea or even Antarctica?

May you rely on my promise
to douse it with vinegar or soak it in wine
and protect it from invasion of extreme desire?

You may but sorry!
I will not let that small dream expire in vain
I will not hide it for a hundred thousands of years
below the Egyptian pyramids
or above Mount Everest
I may not let my people live bereft of dreams
or in dream of dreams that you simply
don’t let them come true !

© Soodabeh Saeidnia



Opstandige Wens
Van daardie honderdduisende wense
wat jy êrens in Andromeda weggesteek het
onder ‘n hoop etanoësuur verwagtinge
bo die klimaks van ongebreidelde eise
tussen die surrealistiese en egte wesens
en hoogs beskerm deur Leo en Groot Canis,
Mag jy asseblief ‘n Klein een vir my stuur –
‘n Eenvoudige, ‘n Vredeliewende, ‘n Maklike droom
Wat dryf deur ‘n verskietende stêr ?

Mag ek dit ontvang op Sinai Berg
of in die Dooie See of selfs Antarktika ?
Mag jy staatmaak op my belofte
om dit te blus met asyn of dit in
wyn te week en beskerm van ‘n inval van
uiterste begeerte ?

Jy mag, maar jammer !
Ek sal nie daardie klein droom verniet laat
verval nie – Ek sal dit nie wegsteek
vir honderdduisende jare onder die
Egiptiese piramides of bo-op Everest Berg –
Ek mag nie toelaat dat my mense
beroof word van drome of droom van drome
wat jy eenvoudig nie toelaat om waar te laat kom nie !

© Don Beukes

If you see something …

If you see something, say something like:
Hey … hello … I’m seeing you
I see you everyday
I used to see you

I see you and ignore
I see you and deny
I see you and say something
in quietism dialect

If you see something, say something like:
Why I haven’t seen you so far?
Seems I haven’t looked down for years
not to the left, nor to the right
I used to look up not to lose my composure, my temper

I, with freezing sangfroid, accepted you
as a lowest member of the society
just like I accepted rats to commute only underground
or raccoons to thrive only on our leftovers
or squirrels to stay with us only out of courtyard

I accepted you to sit on the hard concrete curb
or to spread on the wooden couch of the platform
or to be sheltered inside an ATM chamber
just like I accepted broccoli as a side dish,
although we both knew its trashy destiny

Next time, If you see something, say nothing

©Soodabeh Saeidnia



As Jy Iets Sien…

As jy iets sien, sê iets soos :
Haai…hello…Ek sien jou
Ek sien jou elke dag
Ek het jou eens gesien

Ek sien jou en vermy
Ek sien jou en ontken
Ek sien jou en sê iets
in stille dialek

As jy iets sien, sê iets soos :
Hoekom het ek jou nie sover gesien nie ?
Dit blyk my dat ek vir jare nie neergekyk
het nie – Nie na links, nog minder na regs
Ek het eens opgekyk om nie my kalmte te verloor
nie, my humeur

Ek, met veryste selfbeheersing het jou
aanvaar as ‘n minderwardige lid van die samelewing
net soos ek rotte aanvaar het om ondergronds
te beweeg of wasbere om alleenlik te floreer
van ons oorskietsels of eekhorings
om met ons te bly net uit hoflikheid

Ek het jou aanvaar om op die harde
beton randsteen te sit of om uit te sprei op
die houte sitbank van die platvorm of om
te skuil binne-in die OTM omhulsel,
Net soos ek blomkool aanvaar het as ‘n
bykos, alhoewel ons altwee geweet het van
die vullisblik noodlot

Volgende keer, as jy iets sien, sê niks…

© Don Beukes

Soodabeh Saeidnia lives in NYC but originally is Persian. She got her Pharm D and Ph.D. of Pharmacognosy and has worked as a researcher, assistant and associate professor in the Kyoto University (Japan), TUMS (Iran) and University of Saskatchewan (Canada). She is interested in English literature and poetry, and has published a collection of her poems, ‘Words for myself’, in Farsi. Her English poems have been published in different anthologies and literary magazines including “Careless Embrace of the Boneshaker” (by Great Weather for Media) “Squawk Back”, “Indiana Voice Journal”, “Scarlet Leaf Review”, “Sick Lit Magazine”, “Dying Dahlia Review”, “Sisyphus Quarterly”, “Poetry Life and Time”, “Paradox”, “TimBookTu”, “Babbling of the Irrational”, “SPINE”, “Tuck Magazine”, “La Libertad”, “Tiny Poetry”, “The Pen”, and “352 degrees”. The first collection of her contemporary poems “Street of the Ginkgo Trees”, and also the newly released anthologies (She is both the editor and contributor) “Voice of Monarch Butterflies” and “Apple Fruits of an Old Oak” are now live on Amazon.

Her work can be read at her blog 


New Audio Translation in FARSI of my poem ‘ Good Hope City’ by Soodabeh Saeidnia published in her new Anthology ‘Where Are You From’

You can purchase it here…




Good Hope City

At the tip of a great continent

caccooned by swirling great oceans

and watched over by a new wonder

of the world, A towering protective

centurion undisturbed – Lies a mother

city only three hundred and sixty five

years old – Once the half way stop on

the spice route to India its people are a

unique mix of cultures, customs and

linguistic paraphanalia – With Table

Mountain hugging the Atlantic and

its feet ending in the Cape Peninsula –

It tickles two great ocean currents to

merge – One warm Indian liquid

mass colliding with a freezing cold

Atlantic vortex – Adorned with unique

flora and fauna and surrounded by

historical unique folk, It’s Cape Town –

My City of Good Hope.



Photo Credit (c) Pixabay

(c) Don Beukes 2017