Lit Kicks

This blog talks about reviews, conducts reviews, and talks about shocking news regarding books and other reviews. I found it interesting and entertaining, lots of good links that had me traveling down the deep literary rabbit hole. I urge you to check it out at:
http://www.litkicks.com/

Thanks for clicking in, please drop in tomorrow for another featured poet…

Blue Pencil Open Submissions

Accepts both free and measured verse in any length, either three poems, or one prose piece with a reading period of October through May, simultaneous submissions ARE accepted, please have all your poems in one text attachment via e-mail sent to: thebluepencilATwalnuthillarts.org
For more details go to:
http://www.thebluepencil.net/bp-submissions/tbpo-writers-guidelines/

Good luck to all who submit, please drop in next week…

Poems Found by Poet Hound

http://www.sundress.net/wickedalice/manion29.html
Floating World by Jennifer Manion

http://arseniclobster.magere.com/200702.html
Hair by Kelly L. Morckel


Thanks for clicking in, please drop in tomorrow for more Open Submissions…

Catching Cold

Sorry folks, I’ve caught the chest cold that’s going around the office so there are two posts I wasn’t able to get to, the Tuesday Featured Poet and Friday’s Poetry Tips. The rest of these I got made up before I caught the cold so please stop in Wed. and Thursday and try me again next week. I’ll hopefully be less fuzzy headed by next week, until then, take care of yourselves and keep checking back in!

Five Branch Tree Blog

A creative blog by Brian of Grand Rapids, Michigan in which he speaks of things literary and poetry—thought you might enjoy reading it, too:
http://www.fivebranchtree.blogspot.com/

Thanks for dropping in, please stop by tomorrow for another featured poet…

Poetry Tips: "Oh, excuse me, very sorry..."

Or another title: What I wish I hadn’t stumbled on. This week I dare you to write a poem dedicated to an awkward moment in which you stumbled into someone’s business that you had no intention of stumbling into. Think office affairs, scandals, or even barging in on someone in the bathroom—public toilet or otherwise.
Good luck to all who try it, I can think of countless moments myself, how about you?

Thanks for stopping in, please click in next week for another featured site…

Right Hand Pointing Open Submissions

A Call To Humor

“This year I asked for submissions for a humor issue and, unfortunately, it
didn't come together. We've done a couple of others with good results, but I
just didn't get enough submissions to feel good about it. We have a couple of
pieces we've accepted but haven't yet published and I ran a couple of others in
regular issues after the humor issue fell apart. Time to give it another shot.
So, we're opening up for submissions of humorous poems, fiction, and art.
Length requirements for poems and fiction are the same as for regular issues.
<500 words for poems. Not more than 16 lines for humor although we'll go up to
20 lines if the poem is <75 words.

Target date for publication is April 15th and the deadline is March 15th.

Get writing. And get funny.

Dale”

For more details check out the site below:

http://www.righthandpointing.com/

Good luck to all who submit, please come in tomorrow for more Poetry Tips…

Poems Found by Poet Hound

http://www.poetryfoundation.org/archive/poem.html?id=173524
Birches by Robert Frost

https://sites.google.com/site/righthandpointingsite/decarteret
Artifact by Mark DeCarteret

Thanks for clicking in, please drop in tomorrow for more Open Submissions…

Never Trust A Man Wearing Purple Shoes by J.J. Campbell

J. J. Campbell lives in Brookville, Ohio and has been published widely in the small press. In his recent collection of poems, Never Trust A Man Wearing Purple Shoes, published by Propaganda Press by Alternating Current, Mr. Campbell explores life’s yearnings and uncertainties. Here are several that caught my attention:


forever a romantic

carrying a flame
for a love that
quit me many
years ago

and the lips of
that angel haven’t
graced me this century

yet i hold onto
hope like a
fucking fool.

Many of us know the memories of an old flame, I especially love how he ends it since the last two words are a surprise to the relatively tame lines in the beginning.



the spark of my youth

i keep listening to the
music of my teenage
years hoping to find
the spark of my youth

but as i wake each
morning and am
greeted at the mirror
with disappointment

i sadly realize those
old tunes are out of
magic.

This is another poem for memory lane, greeting the past with the hope of being inspired by it only to realize that which once inspired no longer does so. Mr. Campbell leaves us with a feeling of sadness with minimal use of drama and a simplicity of language.



4818

finally, the comfort
of my own bed after
five days of a hospital
bed

the first comfortable
pillow

the first soft sheet

the first tears of
knowing i’m
cheating death

soon i’ll know if i
have some rare blood
disorder or some
genetic defect that
gave me blood clots
at age 32

regardless, i got a
funny feeling death
just became my next
door neighbor.

The title leaves me wondering if this is an address or hospital room number? For me, the poem brings a sense of relief as the poet slips into familiar life back into a place where he is truly comfortable after such a daunting experience. However, the poet leaves us hanging in suspense at the end, as we never learn the results and that he feels death is next door.


If you enjoyed this sample of poems by J.J. Campbell, you can purchase a copy of Never Trust A Man Wearing Purple Shoes, which is Number Eleven in the Pocket Protector Series of Alternating Currnet’s Press for $3.00 plus Shipping&Handling at:
http://alt-current.com

Thanks always for reading, please drop in tomorrow for more Poems Found by Poet Hound…

The Haiku Foundation

A wealth of wonderful resources, informational posts, and more at a very easy to use site:

http://www.thehaikufoundation.org/

Thanks for stopping in, please drop by tomorrow for another featured poet…

Poetry Tips: Baby It's Cold Outside

Think of all the words used to describe cold weather: cool, chilly, freezing, icy, etc. While the Florida weather here has thus far been mild, there are some chilly mornings that have inspired me to write about the first big chill that swept into my bones. I urge you to try your hand in writing about cold weather and its accomplices such as frost, ice, sleet, slush, snow, anything and everything that comes to mind. Honor the winter season with a poem about its temperature!

Good luck to all who try it, please stop in next week for another featured site…

Anti Open Submissions

Send 3 to 7 unpublished contemporary poems as a single attachment (Word .doc or RTF) via e-mail to anti-poetryATanti-poetryDOTcom along with “a cover letter with your name, contact information, a contributor-note biography of 50 words or less, and a statement of 50 words or less on what you’re against in poetry.” They are open to submissions year round and they do accept simultaneous submissions as long as you let them know immediately if your poems are accepted elsewhere.

For more details, use the link below:
http://anti-poetry.com/guidelines/

Good luck to all who submit, please stop by tomorrow for more Poetry Tips…

Poems Found by Poet Hound

http://www.octopusmagazine.com/issue12/main.html
Lynn Xu’s Our Love Is Pure


http://anti-poetry.com/arroyora1/
Rane Arroyo’s Even Tricksters Get The Blues


Thanks for clicking in, please drop in tomorrow for more Open Submissions…

Luci Tapahonso's A Breeze Swept Through

Luci Tapahonso was born in Shiprock, New Mexico, and her first language was Navajo, her second language, English. Her collection of poems, A Breeze Swept Through, incorporates Navajo words throughout and is an absolutely beautiful collection full of wistful memories, tender laughs, and family history and its traditions. Ms. Tapahonso is also a professor of English, Women Studies, and American Indian Studies at the University of New Mexico in Albuquerque. Thanks to the internet, I am able to share some of her wonderful poems with you:

I copy and pasted the poem (which I cannot format the way it shows on-line so please use the link to see the correct format) from the following link:
http://www.hanksville.org/storytellers/luci/poems/hillsbrothers.html

Hills Brothers Coffee

My uncle is a small man.
In Navajo, we call him, "shidá'í,"
my mother's brother.
He doesn't know English,
but his name in the white way is Tom Jim.
He lives about a mile or so
down the road from our house.
One morning he sat in the kitchen,
drinking coffee.
I just came over, he said,
The store is where I'm going to.
He tells me about how my mother seems to be gone
every time he comes over.
Maybe she sees me coming
then runs and jumps in her car
and speeds away!
he says smiling.
We both laugh - just to think of my mother
jumping in her car and speeding.
I pour him more coffee
and he spoons in sugar and cream
until it looks almost like a chocolate shake.
Then he sees the coffee can.
Oh, that's that coffee with the man in a dress,
like a church man.
Ah-h, that's the one that does it for me.
Very good coffee.
I sit down again and he tells me,
Some coffee has no kick.
But this one is the one.
It does it good for me.
I pour us both a cup
and while we wait for my mother,
his eyes crinkle with the smile and he says,
Yes, ah yes. This is the very one
(putting in more sugar and cream).
So I usually buy Hills Brothers Coffee.
Once or sometimes twice a day,
I drink a hot coffee and
it sure does it for me.

I love this little picture of every day life between and the poet and her Uncle. She includes a Navajo word with which I wish I knew how to pronounce and leaves me thirsting for more such glimpses into the native language. It’s a sweet little anecdote about something most would find trivial that obviously means a lot to Ms. Tapahonso and reminds me of my own family’s small preferences that make me smile. I’m sure you have your own little preferences in your family that make you smile also.



This poem is also copy-and-pasted from a link, please use the link to see how the poem should actually look in the correct format:
http://www.hanksville.org/storytellers/luci/poems/together.html

They Are Together Now

they were returning from Gallup late at night
singing with the radio and laughing
he was driving too fast too fast
he missed the curve
the crash the immediate silence
they whimpered as
the warm blood spread into the cold asphalt cracks
amidst the glass and tangled metal their bodies writhed
moaning and crying until they rose above
they left then watching in silence
oh the soothing silence
the incredible serenity
they rose leaving the steaming blood
ticking of metal settling down
the tinkle of glass slipping
the tin whine of a dying radio
they gather with others now
in the thin darkness
airy, light ghosts sometimes they talk laughing
standing in little groups
waiting to befriend anyone
who might happen along
they are happy
on the flat plateau of that other world: death
that quiet pleasure
they are all together now.

While the poem depicts the violence and nightmarish details of death, Luci Tapahonso also captures the surreal idea of a happy afterlife turning this into a poem with a happy ending. The most moving part for me is when they couple rises above the scene: “crying until they rose above/they left then watching in silence/the incredible serenity/…leaving the steaming blood/ticking of metal...” She turns the noise down with her words, the wreck fading into silence and peace. To capture the noise, silence, the pain, then peace, all in a relatively short poem is admirable and well executed by Ms. Tapahonso.


There are countless poems in this collection that are not found on-line. “Yes, It Was My Grandmother” speaks of her Grandmother’s ability to tame wild horses, “skirts flying, hair tied securely in the wind and dust./She rode those animals hard and was thrown,…She worked until they were meek/and wanting to please.” As Luci continues to describe her mother in admiration she also thanks her, as her Grandmother hated to cook (much like myself in fact) with the lines: “Oh Grandmother/who freed me from cooking./Grandmother, you must have made sure/I met a man who would not share the kitchen.” I adore this poem and urge you to flip straight to it when you get your hands on a copy of this book either by library or on-line, or in a book-store.

There are more and more poems I could introduce you to but I urge you to use the internet links I provide here, peruse your local library, book-store, or on-line and get your hands on a copy yourself. My husband found this book in Santa Fe, New Mexico at one of the local book-stores while we were on vacation and it is now one of my favorite books of poetry on my shelf.

If you enjoyed these poems as much as I have, then you will be happy to find more poems and learn more about Luci Tapahonso by using the link below:

http://www.hanksville.org/storytellers/luci/


Thanks always for reading, as a result of the Thanksgiving Festivities, the posts will resume next Wednesday so please drop in next week and I wish you all a Happy Thanksgiving Holiday!

Julie Andrews and her love of poetry

My husband heard Julie Andrews and her daughter talk about their love of poetry and the poems they loved and the poems they have written over the generations and knew I would absolutely love it. I know you’ll absolutely love listening, too, so please click the link below and be prepared to be tickled pink!

Julie Andrews in an interview with Diane Rehm:

http://wamu.org/programs/dr/09/11/19.php#28912


Thanks for checking in, please drop in tomorrow for another featured poet…