Poet Hound has been interviewed at My Literary Quest

This is no April Fool’s joke, there are not Poetry Tips today. Instead, Jodi Milner of My Literary Quest has interviewed me for her site and I am happy experience the other side of an interview. Please check it out for yourself after 9AM at:

http://myliteraryquest.wordpress.com/

Thanks for dropping in, please drop in again next week…

Nerve Cowboy Open Submissions

While you do have to send a snail-mail submission with a return envelope, these editors welcome poetry all year-round. You may send up to five pages worth of poetry via snail mail (be sure to include your contact information in the top left corner of each page) to:

Joseph Shields and Jerry Hagins, Editors
Nerve Cowboy
PO Box 4973
Austin, Texas 78765

For further details check out their website submission guidelines at:
http://www.jwhagins.com/submission.html
Good luck to all who submit, please stop in again tomorrow…

Poems Found by Poet Hound

https://sites.google.com/site/rhpissue40/bill-christophersen
“West Side Story” by Bill Christopherson

http://foreverwillendonthursday.wordpress.com/poems-ii/#our mother
“our mother” by Nic Sebastian


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

Sky Burial by Dana Levin

When I first read this book, Sky Burial, by Dana Levin, I put it down in frustration. I wasn’t ready to read deeply into the concept of death, burial, rituals… My life was filled with the mundane every day trials and tribulations of quickly fixing dinner before one of us ran off to our hobby group or game practice. Then came the day I found out a former co-worker was in the hospital. The next day I was told life support had been removed, the following morning I learned my former co-worker had passed away.

If and when you are faced with mortality you often try to find a way to put the concept of death into imagery or words and this brought me back to Dana Levin’s book, Sky Burial, with renewed interest and a need to find comfort or reason through words.

Dana Levin places the concept of mortality and death at the feet of religious rituals and humanity’s desire to commemorate or make sense of mortality.

While I am allowed to feature only one poem I find that I am equally torn between two: One is a prose poem about a “crazy woman” encountered in a restaurant in which the patrons and the poet do their best to appear to ignore her antics and yet their heads all tilt in her direction and the other poem is about the struggle of a woman who ultimately collapses and dies. The one about the crazy woman tugs at me personally given my background in advocating for people with mental health issues and how our society has a very long way to go in the treatment of those with mental health illness. However, given the title of the book and the recent death of a former co-worker I will, of course, feature the poem about the struggle with death:



Bardo

You don’t have to break it. Just give it a little
tap.


tap tap. See,

there’s the crack. And you pry it a little
with the flat end of that spoon,

you’ll be able to slip yourself through.


--


To the woods where you’re walking. Crushed ice above you
like a layer of sky—

Some sun under it making it gleam.

Some snow under it bloodless and bright

in the fissured heart, the winter morgue of its imagined
land.

Where you can find her—

Sprawled, facedown, in the snow—

Bracing herself up, a puff of ice at her chin, then seizing
and dying all over again—


Automaton. You prop her up.

And it’s like shaking a doll, How dare it, How dare it—

What



--



good is she for, there in her dying machine?

You push her shoulders back against the trunk of the tree,
her chest’s so cold it cracks—

so you can slip yourself through.
To the woods she’s been walking,

wondering where the living has gone.


This poem struck me because I realized that once life support is taken away it then becomes a struggle to breathe on one’s own. For my co-worker, that struggle quickly came and was gone. That sort of struggle is detailed here along with how fragile life is. The beginning of the poem details the tapping and cracking of an egg and then the words “slip through” detail not only how easy it is to slip into a fragile egg but how a soul is just as fragile and slip from its human vessel and into something else—the unknown. There are so many layers that make up the poem, the main character watching the woman dying, the bloodless snow a clue that the blood has drained from the woman’s face as she struggles again for breath, the cracking of the egg and then the cracking of the woman’s chest. There are so many layers in this relatively short poem which shows the depth and careful construction wrought by Ms. Levin. I feel this poem encapsulates Ms. Levin’s talents throughout the whole collection and also speaks to me personally which is what most poets aim for—connection.


Ms. Levin lives in Santa Fe, New Mexico and has graduated from both Pitzer College and NYU’s Graduate Creative Writing Program. She has received honors and awards from Rona Jaffe’s Writer’s Award, a Writer Bynner Fellowship from the Library of Congress and has received the Guggenheim Foundation fellowship and a fellowship from the National Endowment of the Arts. Her work in this collection has previously appeared in such publications as The American Poetry Review, The Kenyon Review, Memorious, and many others.

If you enjoyed this review of Sky Burial by Dana Levin and the small sample from this book, you may purchase a copy for yourself for $15.00 (not including Shipping and Handling) at Copper Canyon Press by using the link below:
https://www.coppercanyonpress.org/pages/browse/book.asp?bg={BA2C9C20-D694-40FC-9A47-86BD96872BCC}


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

Forever Will End on Thursday Web-Site

Nic Sebastian’s poems and notes on the trials and tribulations of publishing poems are gathered smartly at her web-site, be sure to check it out at:

http://foreverwillendonthursday.wordpress.com/

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

Poetry TIps: You've Lost That Loving Feeling

There are days when you fall out of love with someone or something. Poetry is filled with lost loves, lost objects, but what about the simplicity of the absence of feeling? This week write about the emptiness left behind from an old flame or an old hobby you’ve lost interest in. The former kindergarten crush, high school love, first spouse, whoever you have no feelings toward—good or bad, just absent. How about old hobbies? Did you used to make things with your hands? Write about certain subjects? Sports you played or watched but no longer have excitement for? This week, we’ve lost that loving feeling and we’re writing about it.

Good luck to all who try, please click in again next week…

Anderbo Open Submissions

Anderbo reads year-round and accepts poetry submissions via e-mail, and they accept simultaneous submissions so long as you notify them if someone else accepts your poems before they do, three wonderful things, yes? You may submit up to six poems in the body of the e-mail and please provide your contact information. I suggest writing in your subject line “Poetry submission/Your Last Name” when sending to:
editorsATanderboDOTcom

Learn more by visiting their site at:
http://www.anderbo.com/

http://www.anderbo.com/guidelines.html


Good luck to all of you who submit, please drop by tomorrow for more Poetry Tips…

Poems Found by Poet Hound

Did you know you can find full-length collections on-line? This week, take a look at the following:


http://www.beardofbees.com/pubs/Earth_Day_Suite.pdf
“Earth Day Suite”, a collection by Joseph Harrington, published by Beard of Bees Press


https://sites.google.com/site/rhpbirthday2011/
“A Very Special Issue” poems by Allan Peterson and Howie Good


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

t. kilgor spake's The Poet Tree

t. kilgore splake hails from Three Rivers Michigan, he was born Thomas Hugh Smith in 1936 and while teaching at Kellogg Community College in Battle Creek, Michigan he took to writing poetry. He chose early retirement in 1989 to live in creative poverty and is now living in Calumet in the Keweenaw peninsula. His collection of poems, The Poet Tree, from Kamini Press features the riches of nature and family life. I’m happy to share several poems with you:


poet tree

denander drawings
lilliput poems
tibetan prayer flag colors
suffering autumn storms
vanishing in winter blizzards
buried until spring
to be born again

This poem is a guilty pleasure for me, Mr. Splake features the small press editors Henry Denander and Don Wentworth with the first two lines, then the way they persevere year after year through the seasons always renewing themselves through poetry. At least, that’s how I think of this poem, how about you?



dad

unable to remember
last time dad
hugged or kissed me
let me hold his hand
he had his job
basement and garage
massive collection of tools
my becoming a poet
would have disappointed emery
who wanted a son
with college diploma
happily married
giving him grandchild or three
with boring bland work
wearing dead pecker suit
selling life insurance
not chasing creative itch
writing new
another poem

Another guilty pleasure poem for me but I think you all will like it, too. So many of us pursue things our parents didn’t anticipate for our lives and this poem captures Mr. Splake’s life perfectly and can still be relateable to our own lives. Our creative pursuits may not be lucrative or filled with fame, they may not be understood by family but we pursue them anyway. Thank you Mr. Splake for this peak into your life and your passion for poetry.



waking from darkness

tortured eternity
writer’s black brain death
skull cavity empty
first dawn
streaking far horizon
steady light snow
turning paris white
rue Montparnasse
lover’s footsteps
vanishing in
early morning light

I think this is a great poem for writers, it captures the “tortured soul” often attributed to writers and yet the morning light floods in after a lover leaves us behind providing that beam of hope. Lovely poem, yes?


For a copy of The Poet Tree by t. kilgore splake, you may purchase the signed edition for $9.00 or the limited edition with signed artwork for $18.00, prices include shipping/handling anywhere in the world at Kamini Press:

http://kaminipress.com/2010/02/18/t-kilgore-splake-the-poet-tree/


For beautiful books with equally beautiful poetry, visit:
http://kaminipress.com/

Thanks always for reading, please click in tomorrow for more Poems Found by Poet Hound...

Beach Combing for the Landlocked Blog

Mark Holloway’s haiku and musings appear on this delightful blog, please check it out using the link below:

http://thefragmentworks.blogspot.com/

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

Poetry Tips: Spring Break and Spring Cleaning

I have to admit I don’t have a Spring Break vacation to look forward to but it is that time of year when everyone ventures out on vacations with their children or with their significant others to warmer climates. It is also a time when the weather is warming up and we begin the annual spring cleaning of our homes. This week take a break from trying to come up with new poetry and start spring cleaning in your home instead. Why? Often you’ll stumble upon things that you’ve long forgotten about and when you release yourself from trying to come up with a new creation you’ll often be inspired by something forgotten and will create new works naturally. Or if you are one of the lucky ones going on vacation, abandon yourself to absorbing the sights and sounds of your surroundings and take photos. When you come back refreshed you will also have refreshed your creativity. Try it and see for yourself!

Good luck and please drop in again next week…

491 Magazine Open Submissions

While I did my best to look over the website and its guidelines I have to admit they are fairly vague. The good news is that they tend to look for poets that aren’t already well known (and not many of us are) so I say try their on-line submission manager and submit three to give poems. The response time is around 5 months but they appear to be open year-round, so give it a try by using the link below:

http://www.491magazine.com/faqs.html

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

Poems Found by Poet Hound

http://www.vivacepress.com/studyingariel.html
Studying “Ariel” by Julia Gordon-Bramer

http://boltsofsilk.blogspot.com/2011/02/watching-by-joanna-lee.html
“Watching” by Joanna Lee


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

Single Ply and Soaked Through by Leah Angstman

Leah Angstman’s latest collection from Alternating Current’s Propaganda Press, single ply and soaked through, shoots straight from the hip with pared down memories about hip urban scenes, former hometowns, and the interactions of daily life with loved ones and strangers. I am happy to share a few poems that stuck with me:



dull roar of the crowd

how to make myself fit in among them
stretch the skin to envelop their ideals
their fashions
hairdos manicures
how to laugh when someone tells
a silly something so unfunny
that one just has to laugh

unless one is one
whose mold just doesn’t stretch
from the corner where i occupy
the table of one
who fits that mold

lonely music plays and
fiddles whine and i hear it
where others hear themselves
and yet try to make
our own sounds more important
more necessary
louder and casual
until it’s as empty as
this unstretchable skin
i wear

this mold
i’ve broken

This poem sounds like my own experience at a party or social gathering where I don’t know the people I’m with very well. I’m sure most of us have had the experience of trying to fit into a new crowd or setting and noting how some people try to make themselves sound important to fit in while others sit back and watch instead. I love the idea of “whose mold just doesn’t stretch/from the corner i occupy” because I can relate directly to it. How about you?



no, tom brady doesn’t come here

look around this bar
and tell me
what tom brady would find here

yet he visits up the road a piece
his dad a regular at the
difference a few blocks
a few more wines can make

when jon malkovich used to
sit back at booth 24
i thought it a good fit
his quiet bohemia mingling with
pbr’s and dim lights and
bad-tipping tufts students

but he was no football star
the ooohs and ahhhs not so grand
below the breaths and eyes
quick to turn away
easily distracted by the equally mundane

no supermodels on arms
no small talk because he’s been
hit too many times
to think of anything clever

yes that’s what this bar needs
more glamour less intellect
less poetry
more shoulder pads

I had to ask Leah Angstman about this poem and she revealed she worked in one bar in Cambridge while her friend worked at another up the street that tended to attract big names. While celebrities came to Leah’s bar, the flashier and more glamorous celebs came to her friend’s bar. She says John Malkovich was a regular and I have to admit I am jealous. I like that the poem pokes fun at her friend and hints that Tom Brady is short on intellect compared to John Malkovich.



today i was fitted for new ear plugs

shaped to my inner ear
and the battlefield scars of my
holed non-waterproof eardrums

bulky and protruding
with large r and l indicators
tiny grips for convenient removal
and embarrassingly bright blue

in the mirror i see them
as others see them
bold blue beacons of differentiation
and confidence loses its
reflection

flashbacks to childhood
those bits of wax the size and
shape of hominy
tiny chunks that would break off
get lodged in my ear
requiring surgical removal

the humiliating days of
middle school locker room showers
when it was apparently humorous for others
to poke fingers in my ears at the plugs
despite my sad begging looks of
a thousand starving children

now the future is here
in molded plastic and a comfort fit
pieces that don’t break off
waterproof with a tiny carrying case
annoyingly labeled with my name
in case you didn’t know the defective one
complete with chain to wear as beach bling
to the special Olympics

specially formed for my
scarred and damaged eardrums
to go under water in complete comfort
without design flaws
except one
for my confidence
but hey doc
i’m sure no one will notice
that they’re
bright fucking blue.

This one makes me smile because everyone has their own stories of embarrassing childhood memories that continue to pop up into adulthood. For Leah it is the ear plugs to protect her damaged ear drums and I can relate, why would the medical companies make these stand out so much? For me, it was head gear, and all manner of devices for my teeth growing up. A poem that pays tribute to those embarrassing items we rely on for a “normal existence” but portrays us as anything but normal is a funny yet heart-string-tugging poem. Thank you Leah, for putting your own embarrassment front and center because we can relate to you and you can relate to us.



If you enjoyed this sample of poems and would like a copy of single ply and soaked through by Leah Angstman, you may purchase a copy for $5.00 (+$2.00 U.S. shipping/handling or +$3.00 outside-U.S. shipping/handling) by using the link below:

http://alt-current.com/pp/pp_item.html#single_ply_and_soaked_through


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

Poetry and Poets in Rags

Rus Bowden of New England has an entertaining and edgy poetry blog if there ever was one with live tickers, and describes himself as a car salesman who dabble in poetry, check it out at:


http://poetryandpoetsinrags.blogspot.com/

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