Thanks to living in Florida and all the madness surrounding the pastor of a small church, I’ve been inspired to write poems about tolerance. Tolerance takes countless forms, when you get down to it. Can you tolerate an annoying co-worker? An unruly child? A relative who is always late to gatherings? Can you tolerate Republicans? Democrats? Can you tolerate different religions? Skin color? Homosexuality? This week I’d like you to question yourself and write about your own tolerance or intolerance.
Good luck to all who try it, please stop in next week…
Friday, September 17, 2010
Thursday, September 16, 2010
Adirondack Review Open Submissions
Straight from the site:
Poetry
Please submit 2-5 single-spaced poems with a brief bio. We do not publish previously published work and do not accept simultaneous submissions. The Adirondack Review acquires first rights for publication. Upon publication, rights revert to the author/artist. The Adirondack Review reserves the right to reprint work at a later date if it is selected for inclusion in a print anthology. Please send poems in the body of your email, not as attachments.
Send poetry submissions to editors@theadirondackreview.com.
Please include your last name, date of submission, and the word "POETRY" in the subject line of your e-mail.
For more details, visit their site at:
http://theadirondackreview.com/
Good luck to all who submit! Please stop in tomorrow for more Poetry Tips…
Poetry
Please submit 2-5 single-spaced poems with a brief bio. We do not publish previously published work and do not accept simultaneous submissions. The Adirondack Review acquires first rights for publication. Upon publication, rights revert to the author/artist. The Adirondack Review reserves the right to reprint work at a later date if it is selected for inclusion in a print anthology. Please send poems in the body of your email, not as attachments.
Send poetry submissions to editors@theadirondackreview.com.
Please include your last name, date of submission, and the word "POETRY" in the subject line of your e-mail.
For more details, visit their site at:
http://theadirondackreview.com/
Good luck to all who submit! Please stop in tomorrow for more Poetry Tips…
Wednesday, September 15, 2010
Poems Found by Poet Hound
https://sites.google.com/site/rhpissue35/steven-fowler-2
(Cioran’s Nightly Visit” by SJ Fowler
http://poets.org/viewmedia.php/prmMID/21846
[without a listener] by Maxine Chernoff
Thanks for clicking in, please drop by tomorrow for more Open Submissions...
(Cioran’s Nightly Visit” by SJ Fowler
http://poets.org/viewmedia.php/prmMID/21846
[without a listener] by Maxine Chernoff
Thanks for clicking in, please drop by tomorrow for more Open Submissions...
Tuesday, September 14, 2010
Poiesis # 4
Leah Angstman at Alternating Current has put together a fabulous issue (and not just because one of my own poems appears in it) for Issue #4 of Poiesis. The poems range in intensity from loving and carefree to dark and foreboding. One poem blew my mind and I am going to let you know now that the only reason I did not include it was because it was just too long for me to try and type up. So you’ll just have to nab a copy for yourself and I’m sure you’ll know what I’m talking about because it’s based on a young man’s controversial lifestyle. I had a hard time paring down the number of poems to share with you and I am thrilled to share a sample of them with you:
Hitchhiking
By: Alan Caitlan
His red taillights are like smashed
windshields, half moons of broken glass
beneath the skin; kicking open the passenger
side door, he invites you inside, says,
“Pull hard, it sticks sometimes.” Pushes down
the gas pedal all the way, dual busted exhaust
pipes, jacked up high, rear springs too: inside,
rolling aluminum beer cans, overflowing ash tray,
smoldering, dropping live butts on grease
stained beyond-all-recognition floor mats,
says, “Like my dolly?” tickling the ass end
of a stuffed cloth blue gnome, its hard rubber
head lying on the hood, says, “Had an accident
with my fist.” Pauses, says, “You know, I killed
a guy once. Looked just like you, he did.”
“No shit,” I want to say but nothing comes out.
The spider web patterns of fractured light,
splinters that penetrate the young driver’s eyes
laying a tight fitting blacktop on the night.
Quite frankly, this poem made me shudder, and that’s a good thing. The sort of person you would dread picking up is instead the driver and so the poet takes a chance and climbs in for the ride and we don’t know how it ends. All we know is the beginning and I’m curious and thirsty for more, Mr. Caitlan.
Fat Free
By: Joseph Dorazio
Salivary
slavery
shackle locks
& lips
ham hocks
& hips
in the land of
milk & honey
no runaway
calorie
it’s obesity’s
emancipation
the label’s
proclamation:
fat free!
I like the alliteration, the pop of rhyme, the whole rhythm of this poem. The subject is great too and is portrayed in short, slim lines. The whole of it is clever and catchy, and I agree with its mockery of the message: The answer to obesity is fat free! Obviously, fat free does not solve much of anything except to make the consumer feel better about themselves. Thank you, Mr. Dorazio, clever poem.
war chant
by: Robert Schuler
I speak for the liberation of the soul
from the slavery of the marketplace
This short poem addresses a broader spectrum of the one above. Free consumers from the marketplace and then their souls will be free. He could go on and on but “enough said.”
Fornication
(or, How My House Got This Way)
By: Anthony G Herles
They fooled me for a while but I caught wise
Those noises in the cellar were not mice
And in the attic, too, those all were lies
The fluffy dolls from Raggedy Ann were some surprise
What she was doing up there was not nice
She fooled me for a while but I caught wise.
Chairs and tables I’ll have to sterilize
They wouldn’t listen to my Puritan advice
So in the living room, all they told were lies.
And GI Joe and Legos seemed to multiply
Regardless of their word to cut the vice
They laughed at me a while, but I caught wise.
Silverware and dishes offered me no alibis
Bathing together seemed to them exotic paradise
So in my kitchen they lived erotic lives.
My house is filled with stuff I can’t abide
Their stand of my confusion will not suffice
They have not fooled me yet, for I am catching wise
Tomorrow I will confront them with their procreation lies.
Finally, a rhyming poem! This one made me laugh out loud, the multiplication of stuff is something I can relate to very well, how about you? Every time my back is turned it seems my own stuff forms taller piles and stacks. The idea that Mr. Herles’ things are fornicating and multiplying is portrayed in a riotous rhyme scheme here.
Okay, so I had about three more poems marked to share with you but I’m going to stop here. After all, you should be reaching for your own copy by now!
If you would like to purchase a copy of Poiesis issue #4 for yourself from Propaganda Press, it is $4.00 (+ $2 US, or $3 out-of-US shipping and handling) at:
http://alt-current.com
or via Paypal to alt.current@gmail.com
OR via check or money order made out to Angstman Arts and mail it to:
Alternating Current
PO Box 183
Palo Alto, CA 94302
Thanks always for reading, please click in tomorrow for more Poems Found by Poet Hound
Hitchhiking
By: Alan Caitlan
His red taillights are like smashed
windshields, half moons of broken glass
beneath the skin; kicking open the passenger
side door, he invites you inside, says,
“Pull hard, it sticks sometimes.” Pushes down
the gas pedal all the way, dual busted exhaust
pipes, jacked up high, rear springs too: inside,
rolling aluminum beer cans, overflowing ash tray,
smoldering, dropping live butts on grease
stained beyond-all-recognition floor mats,
says, “Like my dolly?” tickling the ass end
of a stuffed cloth blue gnome, its hard rubber
head lying on the hood, says, “Had an accident
with my fist.” Pauses, says, “You know, I killed
a guy once. Looked just like you, he did.”
“No shit,” I want to say but nothing comes out.
The spider web patterns of fractured light,
splinters that penetrate the young driver’s eyes
laying a tight fitting blacktop on the night.
Quite frankly, this poem made me shudder, and that’s a good thing. The sort of person you would dread picking up is instead the driver and so the poet takes a chance and climbs in for the ride and we don’t know how it ends. All we know is the beginning and I’m curious and thirsty for more, Mr. Caitlan.
Fat Free
By: Joseph Dorazio
Salivary
slavery
shackle locks
& lips
ham hocks
& hips
in the land of
milk & honey
no runaway
calorie
it’s obesity’s
emancipation
the label’s
proclamation:
fat free!
I like the alliteration, the pop of rhyme, the whole rhythm of this poem. The subject is great too and is portrayed in short, slim lines. The whole of it is clever and catchy, and I agree with its mockery of the message: The answer to obesity is fat free! Obviously, fat free does not solve much of anything except to make the consumer feel better about themselves. Thank you, Mr. Dorazio, clever poem.
war chant
by: Robert Schuler
I speak for the liberation of the soul
from the slavery of the marketplace
This short poem addresses a broader spectrum of the one above. Free consumers from the marketplace and then their souls will be free. He could go on and on but “enough said.”
Fornication
(or, How My House Got This Way)
By: Anthony G Herles
They fooled me for a while but I caught wise
Those noises in the cellar were not mice
And in the attic, too, those all were lies
The fluffy dolls from Raggedy Ann were some surprise
What she was doing up there was not nice
She fooled me for a while but I caught wise.
Chairs and tables I’ll have to sterilize
They wouldn’t listen to my Puritan advice
So in the living room, all they told were lies.
And GI Joe and Legos seemed to multiply
Regardless of their word to cut the vice
They laughed at me a while, but I caught wise.
Silverware and dishes offered me no alibis
Bathing together seemed to them exotic paradise
So in my kitchen they lived erotic lives.
My house is filled with stuff I can’t abide
Their stand of my confusion will not suffice
They have not fooled me yet, for I am catching wise
Tomorrow I will confront them with their procreation lies.
Finally, a rhyming poem! This one made me laugh out loud, the multiplication of stuff is something I can relate to very well, how about you? Every time my back is turned it seems my own stuff forms taller piles and stacks. The idea that Mr. Herles’ things are fornicating and multiplying is portrayed in a riotous rhyme scheme here.
Okay, so I had about three more poems marked to share with you but I’m going to stop here. After all, you should be reaching for your own copy by now!
If you would like to purchase a copy of Poiesis issue #4 for yourself from Propaganda Press, it is $4.00 (+ $2 US, or $3 out-of-US shipping and handling) at:
http://alt-current.com
or via Paypal to alt.current@gmail.com
OR via check or money order made out to Angstman Arts and mail it to:
Alternating Current
PO Box 183
Palo Alto, CA 94302
Thanks always for reading, please click in tomorrow for more Poems Found by Poet Hound
Monday, September 13, 2010
The Fork of Ambiguity
The poems found here are great, after visiting over the weekend, I found myself laughing over some of them. Clever, great reads, check it out at:
http://the-fork-of-ambiguity.com/
Thanks for clicking in, please stop in for a featured journal…
http://the-fork-of-ambiguity.com/
Thanks for clicking in, please stop in for a featured journal…
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