Open year round, if you believe your work fits their aesthetic you may send them an e-mail with subject line reading “Poetry by Your Name” and attach an .rtf or .doc with your contact information included to the editors. The poetry editor’s name is Vincent Guerra and they do accept simultaneous submissions so long as you notify them immediately if your work is accepted elsewhere. Send your submission (maximum of 5 poems) to:
submissionsATjukedDOTcom
For more details go to:
http://juked.com/info/index.asp
Good luck to all who submit, please drop in again tomorrow for another book review, and many thanks to the positive responses given so far for the new Friday Feature…
Thursday, September 22, 2011
Wednesday, September 21, 2011
Poems Found by Poet Hound
http://juked.com/2011/09/onmeetingrobertcreeley.asp
“On Meeting Robert Creeley: by Scott Keeney
http://steeltoereview.com/2011/09/15/the-black-house-by-kenny-fame/
“The Black House” by Kenny Fame
Thanks for clicking in, please stop by tomorrow for more Open Submissions…
“On Meeting Robert Creeley: by Scott Keeney
http://steeltoereview.com/2011/09/15/the-black-house-by-kenny-fame/
“The Black House” by Kenny Fame
Thanks for clicking in, please stop by tomorrow for more Open Submissions…
Tuesday, September 20, 2011
An Interview: Dear Minimum Wage Employee, You Are Priceless
Published by Dancing Girl Press in 2010, Emilie Lindemann’s collection of poems is funny and devastating at the same time. I enjoyed the introductory poem, the dedication, and each poem to the very last so I felt compelled to pick her brain for details and Ms. Lindemann kindly obliged:
1.) Emilie Lindemann, thank you so much for allowing me to interview you. The title alone is priceless. It is the entire reason I picked up your collection, can you tell us how you decided to come up with this title?
I was working at Kohl’s as a cashier for $7.25 an hour (minimum wage in Wisconsin) while I also worked as an adjunct instructor. I’d worked as a cashier at a farm supply store in high school and college, but this was different. I had my master’s degree and now the supervisor was reprimanding me for saying “Have a good weekend,” instead of “Have a great day.” During the first two weeks back in the service sector I wrote a note to myself in one of the notebooks I’m always writing in: “Dear Minimum Wage Employee, You Are Priceless.” I realized the note was also addressed to low wage workers everywhere. I am a person. You and I are people.
2.) The dedication page is funny and disturbing at the same time. For our readers, a sample of it reads as follows:
“For every man and woman who has ever worn a polo shirt, apron or nametag… For barcode wrists and inflamed pelvises. For bruised egos and unused Master’s degrees… For strutting out the doors and into the parking lot and never looking back.”
It goes on but the readers must pick up a copy and read it for themselves. In the meantime, how did you come up with your dedication? It could easily have been short and sweet and I am glad you made it as long as you did, it is fun to read.
I was frustrated with the way low-wage workers are treated by customers and the corporations, but I was also inspired by the way service sector employees can and do band together to resist corporate scripts. The women I worked with at Kohl’s and at my previous service sector jobs laughed together and turned the underpaid shifts into something else—maybe social calls, maybe games, or maybe occasions to appreciate and encourage one another. When we had to stay until one in the morning folding t-shirts and juniors’ jeans, we would take our shoes off and laugh. These poems are for those gutsy women (and men too).
3.) Your poems detail the trials and tribulations of working in retail, of the corporate guidelines are portrayed in such a way as to make the reader feel as diminished as the employee must feel when being told the guidelines. Your poem, Corporate Macaroni Code, is a good example which I will post below. Can you tell us more about the inspiration for such a poem as this one?
Corporate Macaroni Code
What is acceptable: black slacks,
especially when paired with a fuck-me voice
and a meek smile.
Avoid thrusting your elbows outward,
talking with your hands.
(This is only
for your own good. We wouldn’t want you
to look anything but professional.
We wouldn’t want you
to be mistaken for a woman shopping freely,
schlucking her boots against the linoleum,
sniffing blouse pits or rubbing discount dresses
between stubby fingers.)
On days when the weather
is especially conducive to Capri pants,
we want you to give us your shiniest apples,
your macaroni necklaces, the last rasp of your voice,
even if it’s higher or purpler than you feel.
Even if you go home to peanut butter.
Many jobs in the service sector have dress codes for employees that are quite entertaining to read. Sometimes the dress codes seem like a way to take power away from employees, to show workers that management and the corporation have power over them. Yet, the corporation spins it as a way to “protect” the worker, to make sure she is being professional. Of course, it makes sense at a grocery store or department store where you are issued a polo shirt. But it becomes a bizarre document at department stores where one wears her own clothes. The language and tone of the corporate dress code for one particular store seemed to imply that the retail employee does not have a sense of professional dress—or taste for that matter. For example, I remember that overalls and mesh tops were strictly forbidden. As if! Yet, the title and final stanza of my poem are important. The employee must not only give her best dress pants to the company but also herself. She must give her real smile, her real humanity for the sake of the corporation making a profit and reeling in store credit card customers.
4.) I love your poem, On Your Day Off, which describes exactly what the poem title says. I am curious about the paper pulp mentioned in the poem: Do you make your own? Also, can you tell us the inspiration behind this poem and give us some more details about things mentioned such as “the sound acrylic nails make/drumming on your countertop”? Here is the poem below:
On Your Day Off
You slide into traffic.
For a few tree-lined blocks
you could be
a business woman
or healthcare professional.
Later, at home—dipping your hands into
Inches of paper pulp you almost see the
blues, pinks, and mauves
of the updated misses department.
You stir pulp
until it purples, until no one
calls you ma’am or asks you to check prices.
And still later, when fibers collide,
when the paper flaps on the clothesline,
you forget barcodes, the sound acrylic nails make
drumming on your countertop. Instead you hear
geese honking beyond boxers
and solitary socks.
I haven’t made my own paper in a while, but that summer I did! I made the pulp in a kitchen blender and dumped it into a big old Rubbermaid container and it just felt so good to use my hands to make something that was for me. I was experimenting at the time with book art. It was such a joy to make something that involved colors and textures. This reminded me of the colors and textures that become tired and mundane and so separate from the worker at a store like Kohl’s where for several months everything is the same burgundy and mustard yellow and purple that you beep and bag. That particular day off it was such a pleasure to be left on my own and to hear outdoor sounds (I was making the paper outside) instead of hearing the sounds of middle-aged women drumming acrylic fingernails on my countertop when I scanned and folded their items as quickly as I could. The drumming of fingernails was intended to tell me that their time was valuable—more valuable than mine.
5.) You had mentioned that working at Kohl’s had inspired these poems when I sent you an e-mail to ask if I could interview you. Can you tell us what it was about the work there that inspired you to write about it? Was it to relieve yourself of frustration or a way to vindicate yourself about the work? What kind of work do you do now and do you write about it in poems, too?
Well, cashiers and other pink-collar workers like waitresses are expected to adhere to these scripts that consist of saying “Hello, welcome to Kohl’s” and apologizing for things that aren’t our fault and pretending that the customer is always right. These poems are my way of talking back, of making an alternate script where I voice my feelings and assert my “person-hood.”
When I wrote these poems I was also an adjunct instructor. And for anyone who doesn’t know, it’s like being a professor but without an office and without health insurance and with much, much lower pay. Now I teach writing full time at a liberal arts college. And I certainly do write about being a writing teacher. I think it’s interesting to explore things from the teacher’s point of view. I have this poem that talks about not grading essays because I ate a Twix bar in the grocery store parking lot. I wrote a poem called “How to Wear a Pencil Skirt” that explores the teacher’s sexuality.
I admit that there was this uneasiness when I was finishing my collection of poems (Pink-Collar Brides)—some of them speaking to the cashier’s experience—when I accepted a full-time teaching job. Could I still write about being a cashier? About being an adjunct?
6.) The closing poem is directed at brides and begins with a quote from a Bridal Guide. The quote has advice that I, personally, think sounds silly. This poem is directed at the bride who is now faced with real life now that the big event is over.
I am very curious to know how this poem came about? I, myself, have always dreaded weddings and their brides and wonder about your thoughts on the whole thing? Even for my own wedding, which turned out lovely, I still wish I had eloped and skipped the whole beauty-pageant-feeling of being a bride. I always looked forward to the marriage part, not the wedding. This poem paints a rather grainy and sober picture of what happens after the wedding. The poem is below, please enlighten us to the creative process for this poem:
A Ghazal for the Bride with Post-Wedding Blues
Some brides feel disappointed after their big day. Try to keep up with friends, establish a work-out routine with your hubby, anything to keep you moving and out of your papasan chair. –Bridal Guide
The wedding is over, the bride may now begin her spinning.
Bring out the bacon, the frying pans, and soiled sheets.
The wedding is over, the bride may have her gown professionally cleaned.
May all your nights involve Sudoku puzzles.
The wedding is over, the bride can roll up clean underwear
and ball socks together to create onions for his steak.
The wedding is over, the bride may now take down her knot.com profile.
And retreat to cellars for heads of lettuce and shriveled grapes.
The wedding is over, the bride can stop dieting, and let her skin go pale.
Piece together rye bread, sauer kraut, and smoked turkey with swiss.
The wedding is over, the bride can unveil her sweatpants.
She can trace long snakes of stretch marks to spell out “boredom” and “loneliness.”
The wedding is over, the bride can cut off her hair and paint her fingernails purple.
Tell the groom to strip off his cummerbund so she can catch her clippings and drippings.
The wedding is over, the bride can climb out of her papasan chair
And rollerblade down hills and into a deep valley.
Well, I rarely ever write formal verse. And my professor at the time, Brenda Cardenas, who has been a huge inspiration as a teacher and poet, challenged us to try several forms. I became intrigued with the ghazal form, how the couplets stand alone as individual poems, and how the rhyming word and refrain work like chimes. I cheated. I changed the form so that instead of a repeating word at the end of each couplet there is this refrain at the beginning: “the wedding is over.” But, anyways, I was preparing for my own wedding which ended up being an old fashioned Wisconsin wedding with chicken and potatoes and beer and a big white dress with red roses on it. And I was so conflicted because I hated the idea of registering for gifts and making my sisters and best friend wear matching shiny dresses and wearing a veil (which I didn’t). I thought the advice from a wedding magazine in the epigraph was kooky and demeaning, so I imagined the relief (rather than the anxiety) after a wedding. I imagined a bride letting her gut hang out. But I also imagined the disappointment that might happen after one has gone from being the Bride to being a Wife---especially in a culture where the Husband or Hubby (a word I refuse to use) is supposed to “complete” her.
7.) Where else can we find your poems or collections? Do you have a blog or web-site we can visit that you could include a link to? Are there any creative projects you are working on that we might see in the future? What kinds of events and happenings are inspiring your poems today?
I have a collection, Pink-Collar Brides, that I’m still submitting to a few presses that I admire—trying to find a good home for it. I have some recent poems up at Prime Number and Melusine.
http://www.melusine21cent.com/mag/node/262
http://www.primenumbermagazine.com/Issue7_Poetry_EmilieLindeman.html
8.) Which writers, poets, artists do you enjoy reading or seek inspiration from?
My favorite poets are Jan Beatty, Karen Brodine, and Chris Llewellyn---Carol Tarlen too. These women explore the world of work in their poetry. I always loved Lucille Clifton for her humor and gutsiness in her work. And, of course, I admire fellow Wisconsin poet Lorine Niedecker for the fun she has with language and sounds in her poetry. I made my husband come with me to Blackhawk Island (where Niedecker lived) last year as a kind of pilgrimage.
Plus, I’ve been inspired by the poets and writers who have been my writing teachers: Karl Elder, James Liddy, Maurice Kilwein Guevara, Kimberly Blaeser, Liam Callanan, and of course Brenda Cardenas as I mentioned earlier.
9.) Any advice for aspiring poets and writers out there?
Never underestimate the possibilities of a writing exercise or an experiment. Once I made a whole series of prose poems because I had this idea that I was going to force myself to use the word “panty” somehow in each one. When an experiment looks limiting it’s really freeing.
Write stuff down constantly. Doodle. Observe.
And I think exercise helps too—it lets you think and create without the pressure. I walk past corn fields and cows or I go to a Zumba class and I just relax and think.
Emilie Lindemann, thanks so much for agreeing to be interviewed. I wish you continued success in your writing and creative endeavors, please keep in touch.
If you would like a copy of Emilie Lindemann’s collection: Dear Minimum Wage Employee, You are Priceless, please visit the link to Dancing Girl Press below to purchase a copy for $7.00 at:
http://dulcetshop.ecrater.com/p/11548447/emilie-lindemann-dear-minimum-wage
Thanks always for reading, please drop in again for more Poems Found by Poet Hound…
1.) Emilie Lindemann, thank you so much for allowing me to interview you. The title alone is priceless. It is the entire reason I picked up your collection, can you tell us how you decided to come up with this title?
I was working at Kohl’s as a cashier for $7.25 an hour (minimum wage in Wisconsin) while I also worked as an adjunct instructor. I’d worked as a cashier at a farm supply store in high school and college, but this was different. I had my master’s degree and now the supervisor was reprimanding me for saying “Have a good weekend,” instead of “Have a great day.” During the first two weeks back in the service sector I wrote a note to myself in one of the notebooks I’m always writing in: “Dear Minimum Wage Employee, You Are Priceless.” I realized the note was also addressed to low wage workers everywhere. I am a person. You and I are people.
2.) The dedication page is funny and disturbing at the same time. For our readers, a sample of it reads as follows:
“For every man and woman who has ever worn a polo shirt, apron or nametag… For barcode wrists and inflamed pelvises. For bruised egos and unused Master’s degrees… For strutting out the doors and into the parking lot and never looking back.”
It goes on but the readers must pick up a copy and read it for themselves. In the meantime, how did you come up with your dedication? It could easily have been short and sweet and I am glad you made it as long as you did, it is fun to read.
I was frustrated with the way low-wage workers are treated by customers and the corporations, but I was also inspired by the way service sector employees can and do band together to resist corporate scripts. The women I worked with at Kohl’s and at my previous service sector jobs laughed together and turned the underpaid shifts into something else—maybe social calls, maybe games, or maybe occasions to appreciate and encourage one another. When we had to stay until one in the morning folding t-shirts and juniors’ jeans, we would take our shoes off and laugh. These poems are for those gutsy women (and men too).
3.) Your poems detail the trials and tribulations of working in retail, of the corporate guidelines are portrayed in such a way as to make the reader feel as diminished as the employee must feel when being told the guidelines. Your poem, Corporate Macaroni Code, is a good example which I will post below. Can you tell us more about the inspiration for such a poem as this one?
Corporate Macaroni Code
What is acceptable: black slacks,
especially when paired with a fuck-me voice
and a meek smile.
Avoid thrusting your elbows outward,
talking with your hands.
(This is only
for your own good. We wouldn’t want you
to look anything but professional.
We wouldn’t want you
to be mistaken for a woman shopping freely,
schlucking her boots against the linoleum,
sniffing blouse pits or rubbing discount dresses
between stubby fingers.)
On days when the weather
is especially conducive to Capri pants,
we want you to give us your shiniest apples,
your macaroni necklaces, the last rasp of your voice,
even if it’s higher or purpler than you feel.
Even if you go home to peanut butter.
Many jobs in the service sector have dress codes for employees that are quite entertaining to read. Sometimes the dress codes seem like a way to take power away from employees, to show workers that management and the corporation have power over them. Yet, the corporation spins it as a way to “protect” the worker, to make sure she is being professional. Of course, it makes sense at a grocery store or department store where you are issued a polo shirt. But it becomes a bizarre document at department stores where one wears her own clothes. The language and tone of the corporate dress code for one particular store seemed to imply that the retail employee does not have a sense of professional dress—or taste for that matter. For example, I remember that overalls and mesh tops were strictly forbidden. As if! Yet, the title and final stanza of my poem are important. The employee must not only give her best dress pants to the company but also herself. She must give her real smile, her real humanity for the sake of the corporation making a profit and reeling in store credit card customers.
4.) I love your poem, On Your Day Off, which describes exactly what the poem title says. I am curious about the paper pulp mentioned in the poem: Do you make your own? Also, can you tell us the inspiration behind this poem and give us some more details about things mentioned such as “the sound acrylic nails make/drumming on your countertop”? Here is the poem below:
On Your Day Off
You slide into traffic.
For a few tree-lined blocks
you could be
a business woman
or healthcare professional.
Later, at home—dipping your hands into
Inches of paper pulp you almost see the
blues, pinks, and mauves
of the updated misses department.
You stir pulp
until it purples, until no one
calls you ma’am or asks you to check prices.
And still later, when fibers collide,
when the paper flaps on the clothesline,
you forget barcodes, the sound acrylic nails make
drumming on your countertop. Instead you hear
geese honking beyond boxers
and solitary socks.
I haven’t made my own paper in a while, but that summer I did! I made the pulp in a kitchen blender and dumped it into a big old Rubbermaid container and it just felt so good to use my hands to make something that was for me. I was experimenting at the time with book art. It was such a joy to make something that involved colors and textures. This reminded me of the colors and textures that become tired and mundane and so separate from the worker at a store like Kohl’s where for several months everything is the same burgundy and mustard yellow and purple that you beep and bag. That particular day off it was such a pleasure to be left on my own and to hear outdoor sounds (I was making the paper outside) instead of hearing the sounds of middle-aged women drumming acrylic fingernails on my countertop when I scanned and folded their items as quickly as I could. The drumming of fingernails was intended to tell me that their time was valuable—more valuable than mine.
5.) You had mentioned that working at Kohl’s had inspired these poems when I sent you an e-mail to ask if I could interview you. Can you tell us what it was about the work there that inspired you to write about it? Was it to relieve yourself of frustration or a way to vindicate yourself about the work? What kind of work do you do now and do you write about it in poems, too?
Well, cashiers and other pink-collar workers like waitresses are expected to adhere to these scripts that consist of saying “Hello, welcome to Kohl’s” and apologizing for things that aren’t our fault and pretending that the customer is always right. These poems are my way of talking back, of making an alternate script where I voice my feelings and assert my “person-hood.”
When I wrote these poems I was also an adjunct instructor. And for anyone who doesn’t know, it’s like being a professor but without an office and without health insurance and with much, much lower pay. Now I teach writing full time at a liberal arts college. And I certainly do write about being a writing teacher. I think it’s interesting to explore things from the teacher’s point of view. I have this poem that talks about not grading essays because I ate a Twix bar in the grocery store parking lot. I wrote a poem called “How to Wear a Pencil Skirt” that explores the teacher’s sexuality.
I admit that there was this uneasiness when I was finishing my collection of poems (Pink-Collar Brides)—some of them speaking to the cashier’s experience—when I accepted a full-time teaching job. Could I still write about being a cashier? About being an adjunct?
6.) The closing poem is directed at brides and begins with a quote from a Bridal Guide. The quote has advice that I, personally, think sounds silly. This poem is directed at the bride who is now faced with real life now that the big event is over.
I am very curious to know how this poem came about? I, myself, have always dreaded weddings and their brides and wonder about your thoughts on the whole thing? Even for my own wedding, which turned out lovely, I still wish I had eloped and skipped the whole beauty-pageant-feeling of being a bride. I always looked forward to the marriage part, not the wedding. This poem paints a rather grainy and sober picture of what happens after the wedding. The poem is below, please enlighten us to the creative process for this poem:
A Ghazal for the Bride with Post-Wedding Blues
Some brides feel disappointed after their big day. Try to keep up with friends, establish a work-out routine with your hubby, anything to keep you moving and out of your papasan chair. –Bridal Guide
The wedding is over, the bride may now begin her spinning.
Bring out the bacon, the frying pans, and soiled sheets.
The wedding is over, the bride may have her gown professionally cleaned.
May all your nights involve Sudoku puzzles.
The wedding is over, the bride can roll up clean underwear
and ball socks together to create onions for his steak.
The wedding is over, the bride may now take down her knot.com profile.
And retreat to cellars for heads of lettuce and shriveled grapes.
The wedding is over, the bride can stop dieting, and let her skin go pale.
Piece together rye bread, sauer kraut, and smoked turkey with swiss.
The wedding is over, the bride can unveil her sweatpants.
She can trace long snakes of stretch marks to spell out “boredom” and “loneliness.”
The wedding is over, the bride can cut off her hair and paint her fingernails purple.
Tell the groom to strip off his cummerbund so she can catch her clippings and drippings.
The wedding is over, the bride can climb out of her papasan chair
And rollerblade down hills and into a deep valley.
Well, I rarely ever write formal verse. And my professor at the time, Brenda Cardenas, who has been a huge inspiration as a teacher and poet, challenged us to try several forms. I became intrigued with the ghazal form, how the couplets stand alone as individual poems, and how the rhyming word and refrain work like chimes. I cheated. I changed the form so that instead of a repeating word at the end of each couplet there is this refrain at the beginning: “the wedding is over.” But, anyways, I was preparing for my own wedding which ended up being an old fashioned Wisconsin wedding with chicken and potatoes and beer and a big white dress with red roses on it. And I was so conflicted because I hated the idea of registering for gifts and making my sisters and best friend wear matching shiny dresses and wearing a veil (which I didn’t). I thought the advice from a wedding magazine in the epigraph was kooky and demeaning, so I imagined the relief (rather than the anxiety) after a wedding. I imagined a bride letting her gut hang out. But I also imagined the disappointment that might happen after one has gone from being the Bride to being a Wife---especially in a culture where the Husband or Hubby (a word I refuse to use) is supposed to “complete” her.
7.) Where else can we find your poems or collections? Do you have a blog or web-site we can visit that you could include a link to? Are there any creative projects you are working on that we might see in the future? What kinds of events and happenings are inspiring your poems today?
I have a collection, Pink-Collar Brides, that I’m still submitting to a few presses that I admire—trying to find a good home for it. I have some recent poems up at Prime Number and Melusine.
http://www.melusine21cent.com/mag/node/262
http://www.primenumbermagazine.com/Issue7_Poetry_EmilieLindeman.html
8.) Which writers, poets, artists do you enjoy reading or seek inspiration from?
My favorite poets are Jan Beatty, Karen Brodine, and Chris Llewellyn---Carol Tarlen too. These women explore the world of work in their poetry. I always loved Lucille Clifton for her humor and gutsiness in her work. And, of course, I admire fellow Wisconsin poet Lorine Niedecker for the fun she has with language and sounds in her poetry. I made my husband come with me to Blackhawk Island (where Niedecker lived) last year as a kind of pilgrimage.
Plus, I’ve been inspired by the poets and writers who have been my writing teachers: Karl Elder, James Liddy, Maurice Kilwein Guevara, Kimberly Blaeser, Liam Callanan, and of course Brenda Cardenas as I mentioned earlier.
9.) Any advice for aspiring poets and writers out there?
Never underestimate the possibilities of a writing exercise or an experiment. Once I made a whole series of prose poems because I had this idea that I was going to force myself to use the word “panty” somehow in each one. When an experiment looks limiting it’s really freeing.
Write stuff down constantly. Doodle. Observe.
And I think exercise helps too—it lets you think and create without the pressure. I walk past corn fields and cows or I go to a Zumba class and I just relax and think.
Emilie Lindemann, thanks so much for agreeing to be interviewed. I wish you continued success in your writing and creative endeavors, please keep in touch.
If you would like a copy of Emilie Lindemann’s collection: Dear Minimum Wage Employee, You are Priceless, please visit the link to Dancing Girl Press below to purchase a copy for $7.00 at:
http://dulcetshop.ecrater.com/p/11548447/emilie-lindemann-dear-minimum-wage
Thanks always for reading, please drop in again for more Poems Found by Poet Hound…
Monday, September 19, 2011
Poet Hound Give-Away Simplified and Extended for Hosho McCreesh’s Collection: For All These Wretched, Beautiful, & Insignificant Things So Uselessly
Hosho McCreesh and I have decided to simplify the contest: To enter you only need to leave a comment or send me an e-mail saying you would like to win a copy.
The entrants’ names will be drawn at random on the following Sunday, Sept. 25th, and the winner’s name will be posted on Sunday. If I do not have the winner’s mailing address they can simply e-mail me their mailing address so that I can send them their winning copy.
If you have any questions please let me know, otherwise good luck to all who enter!
Thanks for dropping in, please stop by tomorrow for an interview with Emilie Lindemann about her collection: Dear Minimum Wage Employee…
The entrants’ names will be drawn at random on the following Sunday, Sept. 25th, and the winner’s name will be posted on Sunday. If I do not have the winner’s mailing address they can simply e-mail me their mailing address so that I can send them their winning copy.
If you have any questions please let me know, otherwise good luck to all who enter!
Thanks for dropping in, please stop by tomorrow for an interview with Emilie Lindemann about her collection: Dear Minimum Wage Employee…
Sunday, September 18, 2011
Sunday's Give-Away Announcement
To be honest, I'm surprised there have been no entries but I also wonder if we need to simplify this contest?
I will be announcing sometime this week what Hosho McCreesh and I have finally decided in regards to the give-away because I know that many readers and fans do not have sites or blogs that they can use to provide links to so please stay tuned...
I will be announcing sometime this week what Hosho McCreesh and I have finally decided in regards to the give-away because I know that many readers and fans do not have sites or blogs that they can use to provide links to so please stay tuned...
Saturday, September 17, 2011
Read a Good Book: The Wind-Up Bird Chronicle by Haruki Murakami
The Wind-Up Bird Chronicle by Haruki Murakami is published by Random House and is a complex story involving layers of characters. The main character, Toru Okada, is unemployed and trying to figure out what to do next. While searching for his missing cat his wife goes missing as well. As he tries to unravel these mysteries more fantastical and strange things begin to occur in his life.
Toru Okada encounters an aging war veteran who tells his tales of the horrors experienced during Japan’s campaign in Manchuria while he also receives visits from a psychic who helps him track down his missing wife. In addition to all of this, Toru Okada explores his neighborhood for his missing cat and encounters a teenage girl down the street who is simultaneously welcoming and vindictive. In the neighborhood he also discovers an abandoned well and begins to climb down inside for perspective which may seem odd but fantastical things happen as a result of visiting this well that fold into the layers of the story. The well belongs to a house that has a dark story behind it and all of the characters who seemed to be part of other circles in the beginning then blend in together as you move deeper into the mysteries surrounding Toru Okada.
Murakami paints a complex, eerie world filled with magical characters and surreal activities that envelop our main character slowly but surely until what we would call reality is no longer recognizable. It is an excellent book and while some mysteries are solved you are still left with a sense of wonder, a sense of longing for more explanations. This story will ink itself in your mind and perhaps invade your own dreams.
I highly recommend this book and you will most likely be able to find this in your local library and definitely in your local bookstore.
If you would like to purchase a copy for yourself on-line, visit:
http://www.amazon.com/s/ref=nb_sb_ss_c_1_16?url=search-alias%3Dstripbooks&field-keywords=the+wind+up+bird+chronicle&sprefix=the+wind+up+bird
To learn more about the author, Haruki Murakami, you can visit his link below:
http://www.randomhouse.com/features/murakami/site.php?id=
Thanks always for reading, please stop in again next week…
Toru Okada encounters an aging war veteran who tells his tales of the horrors experienced during Japan’s campaign in Manchuria while he also receives visits from a psychic who helps him track down his missing wife. In addition to all of this, Toru Okada explores his neighborhood for his missing cat and encounters a teenage girl down the street who is simultaneously welcoming and vindictive. In the neighborhood he also discovers an abandoned well and begins to climb down inside for perspective which may seem odd but fantastical things happen as a result of visiting this well that fold into the layers of the story. The well belongs to a house that has a dark story behind it and all of the characters who seemed to be part of other circles in the beginning then blend in together as you move deeper into the mysteries surrounding Toru Okada.
Murakami paints a complex, eerie world filled with magical characters and surreal activities that envelop our main character slowly but surely until what we would call reality is no longer recognizable. It is an excellent book and while some mysteries are solved you are still left with a sense of wonder, a sense of longing for more explanations. This story will ink itself in your mind and perhaps invade your own dreams.
I highly recommend this book and you will most likely be able to find this in your local library and definitely in your local bookstore.
If you would like to purchase a copy for yourself on-line, visit:
http://www.amazon.com/s/ref=nb_sb_ss_c_1_16?url=search-alias%3Dstripbooks&field-keywords=the+wind+up+bird+chronicle&sprefix=the+wind+up+bird
To learn more about the author, Haruki Murakami, you can visit his link below:
http://www.randomhouse.com/features/murakami/site.php?id=
Thanks always for reading, please stop in again next week…
Thursday, September 15, 2011
The Writing Disorder Open Submissions
They are open year-round, four issues a year. They have an on-line submissions form or you can send your poems on-line, via e-mail, or snail mail. They really make it convenient for you. You may send five to eight poems or one piece of prose. If you submit prose, double-space your submission. If you send your poems via the internet attach an MS Word Document. It may take 2-6 months to hear a response, please include a bio, and send only one manuscript at a time per reading period or twice a year per writer.
By e-mail, your subject line should include your last name, provide your contact information in your e-mail and MS word attachment:
submitATthewritingdisorderDOTcom
By snail mail, specify Poetry Editor either on the envelope or with your bio when you enclose your poems and mail poems typed on individual pages (please remember to place contact information on each page and always include a self-addressed stamped envelope) and send to:
C.E. Lukather
The Writing Disorder
P.O. Box 93613
Los Angeles, CA 90093-0613.
Their guidelines are very detailed in a very helpful way so please check out full details using the link below:
http://www.thewritingdisorder.com/submit.html
Good luck to all who submit, please stop in again tomorrow for another featured good book…
By e-mail, your subject line should include your last name, provide your contact information in your e-mail and MS word attachment:
submitATthewritingdisorderDOTcom
By snail mail, specify Poetry Editor either on the envelope or with your bio when you enclose your poems and mail poems typed on individual pages (please remember to place contact information on each page and always include a self-addressed stamped envelope) and send to:
C.E. Lukather
The Writing Disorder
P.O. Box 93613
Los Angeles, CA 90093-0613.
Their guidelines are very detailed in a very helpful way so please check out full details using the link below:
http://www.thewritingdisorder.com/submit.html
Good luck to all who submit, please stop in again tomorrow for another featured good book…
Wednesday, September 14, 2011
Poems Found by Poet Hound
https://sites.google.com/site/howiegood2011chap/technotopia
“Technotopia” by Howie Good
http://www.poolpoetry.com/poetfour.html
“metaphorically speaking we…” by Frankie Drayus
Thanks for clicking in, please stop by tomorrow for more Open Submissions...
“Technotopia” by Howie Good
http://www.poolpoetry.com/poetfour.html
“metaphorically speaking we…” by Frankie Drayus
Thanks for clicking in, please stop by tomorrow for more Open Submissions...
Tuesday, September 13, 2011
Poet Hound’s First Give-Away: For All These Wretched, Beautiful & Insignificant Things So Uselessly & Carelessly Destroyed by Hosho McCreesh
Yes, that’s right, we are giving away a collection of poems signed by the poet for the first time here on Poet Hound and the rules are simple: Simply prove you have links to both my blog and Mr. McCreesh’s web-site either by leaving a comment with a link to your own blog/web-site or by sending me an e-mail with a link to your blog or web-site.
In order to qualify you must have the following links somewhere on your blog roll/web-site list:
http://hoshomccreesh.com/hoshomccreesh.com/Home.html
and
http://poethound.blogspot.com
You have until Sunday, Sept. 18th 2011, to enter. I will literally draw your names/web-site/blog names out of a hat for the winner and then contact the winner for their mailing address to send them their free copy. The winner will also be posted on Sunday, Sept. 18th so make sure if you do not have a way to be contacted that you can contact me and receive your prize.
It’s as easy as that and I am happy to feature the collection here with a sample poem so you know what the collection is all about:
For All These Wretched, Beautiful, & Insignificant Things So Uselessly & Carelessly Destroyed, Hosho McCreesh’s poems record the city streets of the world and humanity’s attempts to live in a world of madness, hunger, and tragedy. The poems are dark and appealing and are a wake-up call to experience the world around you. I am happy to share a sample poem:
Homeless Man at a Bus Stop on Central Ave.
He wanted to ask for money,
that much was obvious
but before he could
he found himself trapped
in a meaningful conversation
with a stranger
& suddenly it must’ve felt wrong
to somehow cheapen it with a
ham-handed request for something,
anything the stranger could spare.
For a few moments they were just
two guys talking about
something true.
It couldn’t last of course, & ended
in an awkward parting of ways,
he cursing himself
as he walked toward the next bus stop,
trying to remember
not to invest himself
in these current transactions,
not to
connect meaningfully
otherwise he’d spend
the whole goddamned day
sober & starving
with truth.
This poem is intriguing in that you often don’t see a homeless man depicted in any other way than someone who is looking for a hand-out or is simply drunk and sleeping on the sidewalk. Here, a homeless man is having a real conversation, something outside the stereotype for both parties involved in the conversation. I wish we knew more about the discussion they were having, what truth were they speaking of to each other?
If you enjoyed this sample and would like to purchase a copy of the book, it is available at Sunnyoutside Press for $10.00:
http://www.sunnyoutside.com/authors.html
So if you do not enter or do not win the contest, you may visit Sunnyoutside Press of Buffalo, New York, to snag yourself a copy of this poignant collection.
Good luck to all who enter the contest and thanks always for reading…
In order to qualify you must have the following links somewhere on your blog roll/web-site list:
http://hoshomccreesh.com/hoshomccreesh.com/Home.html
and
http://poethound.blogspot.com
You have until Sunday, Sept. 18th 2011, to enter. I will literally draw your names/web-site/blog names out of a hat for the winner and then contact the winner for their mailing address to send them their free copy. The winner will also be posted on Sunday, Sept. 18th so make sure if you do not have a way to be contacted that you can contact me and receive your prize.
It’s as easy as that and I am happy to feature the collection here with a sample poem so you know what the collection is all about:
For All These Wretched, Beautiful, & Insignificant Things So Uselessly & Carelessly Destroyed, Hosho McCreesh’s poems record the city streets of the world and humanity’s attempts to live in a world of madness, hunger, and tragedy. The poems are dark and appealing and are a wake-up call to experience the world around you. I am happy to share a sample poem:
Homeless Man at a Bus Stop on Central Ave.
He wanted to ask for money,
that much was obvious
but before he could
he found himself trapped
in a meaningful conversation
with a stranger
& suddenly it must’ve felt wrong
to somehow cheapen it with a
ham-handed request for something,
anything the stranger could spare.
For a few moments they were just
two guys talking about
something true.
It couldn’t last of course, & ended
in an awkward parting of ways,
he cursing himself
as he walked toward the next bus stop,
trying to remember
not to invest himself
in these current transactions,
not to
connect meaningfully
otherwise he’d spend
the whole goddamned day
sober & starving
with truth.
This poem is intriguing in that you often don’t see a homeless man depicted in any other way than someone who is looking for a hand-out or is simply drunk and sleeping on the sidewalk. Here, a homeless man is having a real conversation, something outside the stereotype for both parties involved in the conversation. I wish we knew more about the discussion they were having, what truth were they speaking of to each other?
If you enjoyed this sample and would like to purchase a copy of the book, it is available at Sunnyoutside Press for $10.00:
http://www.sunnyoutside.com/authors.html
So if you do not enter or do not win the contest, you may visit Sunnyoutside Press of Buffalo, New York, to snag yourself a copy of this poignant collection.
Good luck to all who enter the contest and thanks always for reading…
Monday, September 12, 2011
The Writing Disorder
Wow, wish I’d found this site sooner! Poetry, fiction, nonfiction, art, reviews, blog, all of it is intelligent and engaging. Definitely check it out at:
http://www.thewritingdisorder.com/index.html
Thanks for clicking in, please stop in tomorrow for another featured poet…
http://www.thewritingdisorder.com/index.html
Thanks for clicking in, please stop in tomorrow for another featured poet…
Friday, September 9, 2011
Read A Good Book: The Mermaids Singing by Lisa Carey
This book was a gift from my father simply because my little sister’s name is Lisa. He had no idea what it was about but thought it looked interesting and I am so glad he gave it to me several years ago because it is an incredible story about three generations of Irish women and personal and intertwining lives.
In The Mermaids Singing, Clionna is the grandmother who comes to America to find Grainne, her granddaughter, to take her back to Inis Muruch, Ireland when Grace passes away from cancer. You learn about all three women’s private lives and what makes them who they are. Grace had rebelled against her mother and then fought with the love of her life in Ireland and came to America to make a new life for her and Grainne. Teenage Grainne remembers nothing of Ireland and hardly knew she had a grandmother named Clionna in Ireland when she is summoned to accompany her back “home” to Ireland. Grainne struggles to fit in to a new country and struggles with the idea of meeting her father for the first time. Clionna herself must find a way to share her love and emotion with a young girl she has always desperately wanted to know and can finally reconnect with. We learn about the lives of all three women, their struggle or embrace of their sexuality with the men they fall in love with, the rise and fall of emotions as they struggle to connect to their family members.
The Mermaids Singing by Lisa Carey is an intense and beautiful story that is definitely in my top ten list of books that I enjoy reading over and over again. I highly recommend this to all women who seek and struggle with connection to the female family members in their lives and who struggle with love and relationships. It is all here in an amazing story.
If you enjoyed reading about this book you may find a copy in your local library of purchase a copy for yourself through links on Lisa Carey’s web-site by using the link below:
http://www.lisacarey.net/ms_buy.php
To learn more about the author and her writing, visit her site at:
http://www.lisacarey.net/about_about.php
Thanks always for reading, please stop in again next week…
In The Mermaids Singing, Clionna is the grandmother who comes to America to find Grainne, her granddaughter, to take her back to Inis Muruch, Ireland when Grace passes away from cancer. You learn about all three women’s private lives and what makes them who they are. Grace had rebelled against her mother and then fought with the love of her life in Ireland and came to America to make a new life for her and Grainne. Teenage Grainne remembers nothing of Ireland and hardly knew she had a grandmother named Clionna in Ireland when she is summoned to accompany her back “home” to Ireland. Grainne struggles to fit in to a new country and struggles with the idea of meeting her father for the first time. Clionna herself must find a way to share her love and emotion with a young girl she has always desperately wanted to know and can finally reconnect with. We learn about the lives of all three women, their struggle or embrace of their sexuality with the men they fall in love with, the rise and fall of emotions as they struggle to connect to their family members.
The Mermaids Singing by Lisa Carey is an intense and beautiful story that is definitely in my top ten list of books that I enjoy reading over and over again. I highly recommend this to all women who seek and struggle with connection to the female family members in their lives and who struggle with love and relationships. It is all here in an amazing story.
If you enjoyed reading about this book you may find a copy in your local library of purchase a copy for yourself through links on Lisa Carey’s web-site by using the link below:
http://www.lisacarey.net/ms_buy.php
To learn more about the author and her writing, visit her site at:
http://www.lisacarey.net/about_about.php
Thanks always for reading, please stop in again next week…
Thursday, September 8, 2011
Steel Toe Review Open Submissions
This is a journal based in Birmingham, Alabama, that enjoys reading poetry, fiction, and more from all over the world. The guidelines specify that you may send your poems elsewhere but please let them know if they are accepted elsewhere. You must submit using their on-line submissions link, make sure you include your personal information when submitting and I would recommend 3-5 poems as that is a typical number to send. To learn more and to use the on-line submissions link, go to:
http://steeltoereview.com/submissions/
Good luck to all who submit, please stop in tomorrow for another good book review…
http://steeltoereview.com/submissions/
Good luck to all who submit, please stop in tomorrow for another good book review…
Wednesday, September 7, 2011
Poems Found by Poet Hound
https://sites.google.com/site/howiegood2011chap/3-tiny-heart-attacks
“Tiny Heart Attacks” by Howie Good
http://steeltoereview.com/2011/08/13/%e2%80%9cif-i-rise%e2%80%9d-by-amit-parmessur/
“If I Rise” by Amit Parmessur
Thanks for clicking in, please drop by tomorrow for more Open Submissions…
“Tiny Heart Attacks” by Howie Good
http://steeltoereview.com/2011/08/13/%e2%80%9cif-i-rise%e2%80%9d-by-amit-parmessur/
“If I Rise” by Amit Parmessur
Thanks for clicking in, please drop by tomorrow for more Open Submissions…
Tuesday, September 6, 2011
The Bulk of the Mailable Universe by Jules Gibbs
The Bulk of the Mailable Universe by Jules Gibbs is published by Dancing Girl Press and contains poems that are layered in meaning. I would recommend reading this through at least twice as you will pick up on more layers the second time around. Jules Gibbs currently lives in Syracuse, New York, and enjoys teaching poetry to adults and children. The title of the collection is what caught my eye as I absolutely love snail mail (not the bills kind, the letters-from-friends-and-family kind) and was delightfully satiated to read the contents. The poems greet you with words you do not see or hear every day yet are familiar such as “concordant, tycoon, slake.” These are words that make me want to reach out and touch them, experience them more in every day life. Then as you read there are layers that peel away as you understand them more with each reading. Below are a few I am happy to share with you:
Tussle
Deep in the jejunum, factory
of post-vertebral reasoning,
a concordant tome
produces a quasar, a nolo
prow for the cocky free speech
of her conceptual A posse.
The historic nonstandard
of her one congratulatory chromosome
says: You’re blocked; he’s Virgo
as any jellyfish, recherché, hopes you’re free.
Volcano at fifteen, she’s a woman
by reprisal, catalyst
doing battle, unashamed
as an evening gazette corrigendum.
It’s like the last rational brain cell
Whispering to a girl gone wild: Tussle,
you got some time—your future depends on it.
As many other girls have discovered
the hard way,
there’s nothing worse than creating
an expectation — then failing to deliver.
This poem makes me think of teenage girls coming into their own. The “congratulatory chromosome” that makes them female instead of male, “Volcano at fifteen” that describes their energy and feelings as they learn how to present themselves and strive to become what they hope to become. The ending stanza is a perfect way to encapsulate the experience of a girl trying to find herself: trying to become a particular someone or something and then being unable to fulfill it in other people’s eyes and/or their own. It’s an excellent poem that uses layers and imagery rather than direct language. Beautiful.
Ones and Ohs
Our system is supported by Mom
and another girl photo coming
soon. You need the most recent version of Flash
to get Catwoman, Gwen, D.C. comics—
everything comes with a rating: hottest
hotties stuffing age between biography—
Natalia, Jessica, Pamela, Beyonce’—
even Sharon Stone was saved
by post-sitcom success.
A girl named Ellora was born
on the 22nd of June in a hospital
just outside Paris. Already
she cries in four languages,
ones and ohs while a storm
marvels the beach in L.A.,
covers the sand that beat
Britney’s jailbait in the face,
Broadcast to the world. And still
she out-charts Christina.
I interpret this poem to mean that all women can become a star thanks to the internet, thanks to the ones and ohs of computers that can place in our faces the stars of every-day life on television, music, and now our own lives. While we may recognize the names in the first stanza there is background provided for Ellora: a baby girl born to parents who apparently speak four languages between them if you see the reference about crying in four languages. The first lines in the first stanza I interpret to mean that the Mom will be posting photos of her new daughter soon and post them on the internet just as so many starlets are found, whether they deserve the fame or not, on-line. In an era like ours, everyone’s pictures and daily lives are broadcast to the world, it’s a poem that high-lights the closing gap between everyday people, celebrities, and pop-culture.
If you enjoyed this short sample of poems as much as I enjoyed its entire collection you may purchase a copy of The Bulk of the Mailable Universe by Jules Gibbs at Dancing Girl Press for $7.00 using the link below:
http://dulcetshop.ecrater.com/p/11517243/jules-gibbs-bulk-of-the-mailable
Thanks always for reading, please click in tomorrow for more Poems Found by Poet Hound
Tussle
Deep in the jejunum, factory
of post-vertebral reasoning,
a concordant tome
produces a quasar, a nolo
prow for the cocky free speech
of her conceptual A posse.
The historic nonstandard
of her one congratulatory chromosome
says: You’re blocked; he’s Virgo
as any jellyfish, recherché, hopes you’re free.
Volcano at fifteen, she’s a woman
by reprisal, catalyst
doing battle, unashamed
as an evening gazette corrigendum.
It’s like the last rational brain cell
Whispering to a girl gone wild: Tussle,
you got some time—your future depends on it.
As many other girls have discovered
the hard way,
there’s nothing worse than creating
an expectation — then failing to deliver.
This poem makes me think of teenage girls coming into their own. The “congratulatory chromosome” that makes them female instead of male, “Volcano at fifteen” that describes their energy and feelings as they learn how to present themselves and strive to become what they hope to become. The ending stanza is a perfect way to encapsulate the experience of a girl trying to find herself: trying to become a particular someone or something and then being unable to fulfill it in other people’s eyes and/or their own. It’s an excellent poem that uses layers and imagery rather than direct language. Beautiful.
Ones and Ohs
Our system is supported by Mom
and another girl photo coming
soon. You need the most recent version of Flash
to get Catwoman, Gwen, D.C. comics—
everything comes with a rating: hottest
hotties stuffing age between biography—
Natalia, Jessica, Pamela, Beyonce’—
even Sharon Stone was saved
by post-sitcom success.
A girl named Ellora was born
on the 22nd of June in a hospital
just outside Paris. Already
she cries in four languages,
ones and ohs while a storm
marvels the beach in L.A.,
covers the sand that beat
Britney’s jailbait in the face,
Broadcast to the world. And still
she out-charts Christina.
I interpret this poem to mean that all women can become a star thanks to the internet, thanks to the ones and ohs of computers that can place in our faces the stars of every-day life on television, music, and now our own lives. While we may recognize the names in the first stanza there is background provided for Ellora: a baby girl born to parents who apparently speak four languages between them if you see the reference about crying in four languages. The first lines in the first stanza I interpret to mean that the Mom will be posting photos of her new daughter soon and post them on the internet just as so many starlets are found, whether they deserve the fame or not, on-line. In an era like ours, everyone’s pictures and daily lives are broadcast to the world, it’s a poem that high-lights the closing gap between everyday people, celebrities, and pop-culture.
If you enjoyed this short sample of poems as much as I enjoyed its entire collection you may purchase a copy of The Bulk of the Mailable Universe by Jules Gibbs at Dancing Girl Press for $7.00 using the link below:
http://dulcetshop.ecrater.com/p/11517243/jules-gibbs-bulk-of-the-mailable
Thanks always for reading, please click in tomorrow for more Poems Found by Poet Hound
Monday, September 5, 2011
Very Like A Whale Site
Nic Sebastian has wonderful commentary on making video poems, insights into other people’s inspirations, provides opportunities for you to send your own, and much more at this delightful blog, check it out at:
http://verylikeawhale.wordpress.com/
Thanks for clicking in, please stop by tomorrow for another featured poet…
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