“Luna Park is a review of little and literary magazines begun in 2007 as a blog. We regularly feature excerpts from little magazines, reviews of little magazines, exciting Found works from the magazines, interviews, and essays about the history of little magazines. The name Luna Park is taken from the title of a fictional French literary magazine in a short story by the Chilean novelist and poet, Roberto Bolano. Luna Park is on the review media list at CLMP and is serialized in print form in The Burger.”
That’s straight from the horse’s mouth! I think this is a fantastic place to go if you are hoping to subscribe to a literary magazine. You can see if they have already featured it or you can contact them and ask if they know anything about it. They may even invite you to provide reviews for them if you have something to say about a literary magazine. Check them out at:
http://lunaparkreview.blogspot.com/
Stop by tomorrow to learn about a featured poet live and writing…
Saturday, October 13, 2007
Friday, October 12, 2007
Poetry Tips: The Importance of Each Line
One of the most challenging things about completing your poem is reading it over to make sure each line is just as important as the next. For example, is every line interesting? Does the story line make sense overall? Are there any extra words or images that don’t blend with the rest of the poem? These are questions to ask throughout.
The most important thing you can do is to pay special attention to the first stanza. Often, the first stanza is like turning the key in your car’s ignition: It is the only way to get your engine started, but it does not get the car move. Sometimes you need to eliminate the first stanza because it was only needed to start the poem before running. Stanzas 2 through the last stanza may sound amazing, but the first stanza may need some work. Or it may need to be eliminated altogether.
The first line of the poem is the most important after the title. The first line has to grab the reader’s attention and it has to keep the reader wanting more. If it is lackluster then you might want to re-work it or get rid of it.
You also may have one line in the entire poem that sounds fantastic, it may be the only line that “carries” the poem. Here, you have a decision to make. Either take the line out so the rest of the poem blends well or use the fantastic line in another poem altogether. A poem can not survive on just one fantastic line. Each line has to be just as fantastic as the next one.
I don’t care what anyone says, you need a title. The title is the most important line in the poem. Some poems seem obscure or hard to understand without their title. Titles are more difficult than most people realize. It has to clue the reader in to what the poem entails, it has to grab attention, and if it is too long you’ll lose the reader’s interest. Sometimes it is easier to grab a key word in your poem for the title. Other times, your poem may skirt around a subject and the best title would be the subject itself. Always try to title your poems. You don’t have to title them right away. You can always come back later, especially if you go to bed thinking about a title and sleep on it. The brain always continues working while you’re sleeping, you’ll surely wake up in the morning with an idea or two.
I hope your muse guides you while you write, and I will see you tomorrow to discuss another great blog…
The most important thing you can do is to pay special attention to the first stanza. Often, the first stanza is like turning the key in your car’s ignition: It is the only way to get your engine started, but it does not get the car move. Sometimes you need to eliminate the first stanza because it was only needed to start the poem before running. Stanzas 2 through the last stanza may sound amazing, but the first stanza may need some work. Or it may need to be eliminated altogether.
The first line of the poem is the most important after the title. The first line has to grab the reader’s attention and it has to keep the reader wanting more. If it is lackluster then you might want to re-work it or get rid of it.
You also may have one line in the entire poem that sounds fantastic, it may be the only line that “carries” the poem. Here, you have a decision to make. Either take the line out so the rest of the poem blends well or use the fantastic line in another poem altogether. A poem can not survive on just one fantastic line. Each line has to be just as fantastic as the next one.
I don’t care what anyone says, you need a title. The title is the most important line in the poem. Some poems seem obscure or hard to understand without their title. Titles are more difficult than most people realize. It has to clue the reader in to what the poem entails, it has to grab attention, and if it is too long you’ll lose the reader’s interest. Sometimes it is easier to grab a key word in your poem for the title. Other times, your poem may skirt around a subject and the best title would be the subject itself. Always try to title your poems. You don’t have to title them right away. You can always come back later, especially if you go to bed thinking about a title and sleep on it. The brain always continues working while you’re sleeping, you’ll surely wake up in the morning with an idea or two.
I hope your muse guides you while you write, and I will see you tomorrow to discuss another great blog…
Thursday, October 11, 2007
Pinch Pinch Press
This looks like a brand new press full of excitement and promise. I highly recommend you check them out and submit before they are overtaken by the other thousands upon thousands of eager poets hoping to be published. AND if you aren’t submitting, check them out and see if you might be interested in ordering a subscription. This press wants visual art poetry which I would LOVE to see and combines fiction and the possibility of being invited to submit a chapbook if you are able to publish in their journal and have perhaps created a following among the small presses. Don’t miss this opportunity to be one of the first in a new journal! There are several small presses whose sites are blogs just like this one, and don’t worry, I’ll feature them on Thursdays when they are ready for a fresh batch of submissions. Until then…
http://pinchpinchpress.blogspot.com/
Good luck to those of you submitting! I’ll see you tomorrow for more Poetry Tips…
http://pinchpinchpress.blogspot.com/
Good luck to those of you submitting! I’ll see you tomorrow for more Poetry Tips…
Wednesday, October 10, 2007
First Edition: Punctured Poetry
Original poem by Kim Addonizio:
What Was
The streets fill with cabs and limos,
with the happy laughter of the very drunk;
the benches in Washington Square Park,
briefly occupied by lovers, have been reclaimed
by men who stretch out coughing under the Chronicle.
We’re sitting on the cold slab
of a cathedral step, and to keep myself
from kissing you I stare at the cartoony
blue neon face of a moose, set over the eponymous
restaurant, and decide on self-pity
as the best solution to this knot
of complicated feelings. So much, my love,
for love; our years together recede,
taillights in the fog that’s settled in. I breathe
your familiar smell—Tuscany Per Uomo,
Camel Lights, the sweet reek of alcohol—and keep
from looking at your face, knowing
I’m still a sucker for beauty. Nearby, a man decants
a few notes from his tenor sax, honking his way
through a tune meant to be melancholy. Soon
I’ll drive home alone, weeping and raging,
the radio twisted high as I can stand it—
or else I’ll lean toward you, and tell you
any lie I think will bring you back.
And if you’re reading this, it’s been years
since then, and everything’s too late
the way it always is in songs like this,
the way it always is.
Punctured Poem Version:
Is What?
The streets fill with cabs and winos,
With the happy laughter of the very drunk;
the benches in Times Square
briefly occupied by pigeons, have been reclaimed
by homeless men who stretch out snoring under the New York Times.
We’re sitting on a cold slab
of sidewalk, and to keep myself
from punching you I stare at the cartoony
nose of the Geico Duck, set on the big screen
T.V., and decide on self-loathing
as the best solution for listening to your
inane ramblings. So much, my love,
for Chinese. Our years together fade,
barge lights in the fog that’s settled in. I breathe
your pungent smell—Onion and Garlic,
Marlboro, the sweet reek of Bud Light—and keep
from looking at your pocked face,
knowing I’m still a sucker for odd symmetry. Nearby, a penniless man attempts
a few notes from his trumpet, honking his way
through a tune meant to be lively. Soon
I’ll drive home alone, shaking with rage,
my iPod blaring high as I can stand it—
or else I’ll call you on your cell, and tell you
any lie I can think of to get rid of you.
And if you’re reading this, it’s been years
since then, and you’re still not
getting the hint in poems like this,
the way it never was.
By the way, Kim Addonizio is a living poet if you didn’t already know. Please check her out in the book-stores or your library sometime.
Thank you for checking out this new feature. As always, Wednesdays are still open to submissions from readers. You can even try your hand at Punctured Poems, just e-mail me at poethoundblogspotATyahooDOTcom.
*Don’t forget! Join the Donors Choose Challenge and help raise money for education! Go to the little “x” box where a picture should be on the right hand side titled “Donors Choose Challenge.” If you’re wondering why I haven’t donated it is because I’ve recently had some financial setbacks and I’m living off macaroni and cheese and bologna sandwiches. I intend to donate by the end of the month, and of course the end of October is when the contest ends. Please donate, it’s for an incredible cause.
I’ll see you tomorrow for another Open Submissions…
What Was
The streets fill with cabs and limos,
with the happy laughter of the very drunk;
the benches in Washington Square Park,
briefly occupied by lovers, have been reclaimed
by men who stretch out coughing under the Chronicle.
We’re sitting on the cold slab
of a cathedral step, and to keep myself
from kissing you I stare at the cartoony
blue neon face of a moose, set over the eponymous
restaurant, and decide on self-pity
as the best solution to this knot
of complicated feelings. So much, my love,
for love; our years together recede,
taillights in the fog that’s settled in. I breathe
your familiar smell—Tuscany Per Uomo,
Camel Lights, the sweet reek of alcohol—and keep
from looking at your face, knowing
I’m still a sucker for beauty. Nearby, a man decants
a few notes from his tenor sax, honking his way
through a tune meant to be melancholy. Soon
I’ll drive home alone, weeping and raging,
the radio twisted high as I can stand it—
or else I’ll lean toward you, and tell you
any lie I think will bring you back.
And if you’re reading this, it’s been years
since then, and everything’s too late
the way it always is in songs like this,
the way it always is.
Punctured Poem Version:
Is What?
The streets fill with cabs and winos,
With the happy laughter of the very drunk;
the benches in Times Square
briefly occupied by pigeons, have been reclaimed
by homeless men who stretch out snoring under the New York Times.
We’re sitting on a cold slab
of sidewalk, and to keep myself
from punching you I stare at the cartoony
nose of the Geico Duck, set on the big screen
T.V., and decide on self-loathing
as the best solution for listening to your
inane ramblings. So much, my love,
for Chinese. Our years together fade,
barge lights in the fog that’s settled in. I breathe
your pungent smell—Onion and Garlic,
Marlboro, the sweet reek of Bud Light—and keep
from looking at your pocked face,
knowing I’m still a sucker for odd symmetry. Nearby, a penniless man attempts
a few notes from his trumpet, honking his way
through a tune meant to be lively. Soon
I’ll drive home alone, shaking with rage,
my iPod blaring high as I can stand it—
or else I’ll call you on your cell, and tell you
any lie I can think of to get rid of you.
And if you’re reading this, it’s been years
since then, and you’re still not
getting the hint in poems like this,
the way it never was.
By the way, Kim Addonizio is a living poet if you didn’t already know. Please check her out in the book-stores or your library sometime.
Thank you for checking out this new feature. As always, Wednesdays are still open to submissions from readers. You can even try your hand at Punctured Poems, just e-mail me at poethoundblogspotATyahooDOTcom.
*Don’t forget! Join the Donors Choose Challenge and help raise money for education! Go to the little “x” box where a picture should be on the right hand side titled “Donors Choose Challenge.” If you’re wondering why I haven’t donated it is because I’ve recently had some financial setbacks and I’m living off macaroni and cheese and bologna sandwiches. I intend to donate by the end of the month, and of course the end of October is when the contest ends. Please donate, it’s for an incredible cause.
I’ll see you tomorrow for another Open Submissions…
Tuesday, October 9, 2007
Charles Bukowski, the world is not always roses
Charles Bukowski was born in 1920 and passed away in 1994 at the age of 73. He was a cult favorite in his time and his critics thought he was offensive and lewd in his references to sex, alcohol, and violent images. However, his words are truthful, very in-your-face and he wrote like he had nothing to lose. He did not go out of his way to write in fanciful language, his poems are plain-spoken and although you might find him offensive you can’t say he was a terrible poet. Don’t worry, the poem I have selected is not heavy in pornography, violence, or profanity. There is one swear word and one violent image but the poem itself is imaginative and relateable. I feature Bukowski because he is a great poet, I own one of the books put together after his passing, and feel that he deserves a nod. I appreciate poets who are plain-spoken and say what they mean.
http://poetryfoundation.org/archive/poem.html?id=179730
Thanks for reading, I will see you tomorrow for Punctured Poetry:
http://poetryfoundation.org/archive/poem.html?id=179730
Thanks for reading, I will see you tomorrow for Punctured Poetry:
Monday, October 8, 2007
Donors Choose Challenge
I was just notified that donorschoose.org has issued a blogger challenge to encourage people to check out their site. I have been involved with Donors Choose before and I gladly accept this challenge.
This site is for teachers and schools across the country looking for donations for classroom projects, special trips, and much needed school supplies for struggling families. It is absolutely the BEST idea I have ever heard of. Please check them out and if you would be so kind, donate. I have selected LitLiberation for the challenge. My goal is to have viewers of this blog to raise $2,500.00 for the challenge. Go to the site listed on the right hand side as “Reading is Fundamental” just click on the “x” since the image isn’t working. Thanks!
Once you’ve browsed and hopefully donated, come back tomorrow for a poet who was and still is viewed as controversial…
This site is for teachers and schools across the country looking for donations for classroom projects, special trips, and much needed school supplies for struggling families. It is absolutely the BEST idea I have ever heard of. Please check them out and if you would be so kind, donate. I have selected LitLiberation for the challenge. My goal is to have viewers of this blog to raise $2,500.00 for the challenge. Go to the site listed on the right hand side as “Reading is Fundamental” just click on the “x” since the image isn’t working. Thanks!
Once you’ve browsed and hopefully donated, come back tomorrow for a poet who was and still is viewed as controversial…
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