Wednesday, December 22, 2010

Poems Found by Poet Hound
“You” by Frank Stanford
“Last Stand” by Howie Good

Thanks for clicking in, I will be away for the holidays so please drop in again January 3rd and I wish you all Happy Holidays and Happy New Year’s…

Monday, December 20, 2010

Roach-O-Rama Open Submissions

Richard Wink, the former editor of Gloom Cupboard, is spreading the word about his new print magazine that he is working on with fellow poet Ben Smith in Australia titled Roach-O-Rama. Since I will be out of town by Christmas Eve, I’m placing their submission guidelines today instead.

I’ve copy-and-pasted the guidelines below:

Send poems the old fashioned way. Jot them down on payslips, pizza boxes or preferably on an A4 sheet of paper, stick them in an envelope and mail them to whichever one of these addresses is cheaper for you to post to. Roach-O-Rama UK, 41 Drayton Wood Road, Hellesdon, Norwich, NR6 6BY, England or Roach-O-Rama Oz, PO Box 806 Tullamarine, Victoria, AUSTRALIA 3049
We are accepting submissions for the first edition until June 1st 2011.

To learn more, visit their site at:

Good luck to all who submit, please drop in Wednesday for more Poems Found by Poet Hound…

Friday, December 17, 2010

Poetry Tips: Secrets

The news these days seems to be focused on Wiki Leaks, the organization that releases documents that are shielded from public view for various reasons from governmental agencies. These days it seems harder and harder to keep a secret thanks to breaches through the internet. This week I am inspired to pretend I am releasing secrets via poems and perhaps you would like to join in? Imagine spilling secrets about yourself, friends, family, just make sure no one actually get a hold of them if they are very sensitive in detail. Does writing the poem feel like a relief of unburdening yourself of these secrets?

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

Thursday, December 16, 2010

Alaska Quarterly Review

You may send up to 20 pages of contemporary poetry “in traditional and experimental styles.”

The rest I have copy and pasted from their site:
Please include the following contact information in your cover letter and/or on your manuscript: mailing address, phone number, and email address if available. All manuscripts must be typed and accompanied by a self-addressed, stamped envelope (SASE). Unless a SASE is enclosed with your submission, you will not hear from us unless we are interested in publishing your manuscript. We try to reply within 6 to 16 weeks.
All general correspondence should be addressed to The Editors. Please address submissions to the section editor (e.g. Fiction Editor, Poetry Editor, Non-Fiction Editor, or Drama Editor) at the following address:

Alaska Quarterly Review
University of Alaska Anchorage
3211 Providence Drive (ESH 208)
Anchorage, AK 99508
Important notes:
(1) Unsolicited manuscripts are read between August 15 and May 15.
(2) Although we respond to e-mail queries, we cannot review electronic submissions.
(3) We review simultaneous submissions and request that they be identified as such in the cover letter.

For further details please go to:

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

Wednesday, December 15, 2010

Poems Found by Poet Hound
“Street Pocket Park” by Nolan Chessman
“Bachelorette” by Nicole Steinberg

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

Tuesday, December 14, 2010

John Bennett's Battle Scars

Editor Henry Denander of Kamini Press, based in Stockholm Sweden, sent me the press’ latest publication by John Bennett, a beautiful chapbook titled Battle Scars. While the cover features a beautiful abstract watercolor on the cover the poems themselves are my favorite kind: Straightforward and biting. John Bennett was born in 1938 in Brooklyn, New York, founded the Vagabond Press which published notables such as Charles Bukowski, Anne Menebroker, and many others, while John Bennett himself has published 39 books not including poems published in various anthologies. At age 72, Mr. Bennett is still writing and has his own web-site which I have included the link to at the end of this feature. Mr. Bennett now resides in Ellensburg, Washington, where he continues to write and publish as well as correspond with many other poets and sends his works via an e-mail list which you may sign up for after visiting his web-site.

Battle Scars, as I said, is straightforward with a bite that can be fierce, comical, or gentle. I am happy to share several of the poems with you:


I tell
people I’m
not one
of them &
they laugh
& say
have a

This poem has me saying aloud “Isn’t that the truth?” How often we find ourselves dismayed or disgusted by others’ behavior only to end up finding ourselves displaying that exact same behavior later, even amongst the same people who we initially were appalled by. I also think of this poem as being one that could apply to a mental health hospital as a result of the title since many people who need psychiatric help deny that they do. I imagine the residents of the institution laughing at the newest member when the new member announces that he or she doesn’t belong there. The poem can be taken at face value or to a deeper level depending on the reader and their own experiences.


After a
certain age
all mirrors are
good for is
checking for
skin cancer &
the nicotine
stain in
your mustache.

This poem makes me grin. It’s another poke at old age while including the humor in aging not-so-gracefully. Also, I hate mirrors so I like this poem all the more.

72nd Birthday

Sitting on
the hill at
sunrise with
my coffee &
fond thoughts
of all those who
hate my guts.

This poem is my favorite of the whole collection. I laughed aloud and then read aloud this poem to my husband. Just the idea of thinking fondly of the people who hate your guts is something I enjoy very much. The poet is rebellious and undaunted, the best way to be I say.

Ego Like Indelible Ink

Anyone who
tells you he’s
banished his
ego is

I mean,
there he
stands with
his motor mouth
running a
mile a

This poem had me saying “YES, yes!” aloud. Often the person who is announcing that they don’t want to bring attention to themselves is in some way actually announcing “pay attention to me!” This behavior is annoying at the very least and I love that Mr. Bennett wrote a straightforward and simple poem of the subject. Really, the rest of us could probably write prose for pages on this subject but Mr. Bennett is succinct and brilliant with his choice of words which captures the scenario perfectly with humor in the last stanza. Bravo Mr. Bennett!

I hope you enjoyed these short, straightforward poems as much as I do. The chapbook itself is also of high quality, spare and beautiful like the poetry inside. Each edition is also signed by Mr. Bennett himself in a limited print run of 125 copies so I urge you to act fast if you would like a copy for yourself.
To obtain a copy of Battle Scars by John Bennett for yourself, a mere $9.00 including international shipping or $18.00 including international shipping for the Limited Edition with artwork included, please go to Kamini Press’ site:

To learn more about Mr. Bennett visit his website at:

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

Belinda Subraman Presents/Gypsy Art Show Blog

Her introduction says it all, she features poets, musicians, artists, and writers with features and book reviews and so on. It’s a riveting site, full of visual appeal and great reads and insights, please check it out at:

Thanks for clicking in, please stop in tomorrow…

Friday, December 10, 2010

Poetry Tips: Cover Letters

To be honest, I’m not fond of trying to come up with cover letters when sending out poems and for those of you who are nervous, here are some things you can do. Format your cover letter the way you would for a job application. You’ll want to provide your contact information, details about what you have published or at least what poems are enclosed. Thank the editor for their time and end it just as you would a cover letter for a potential job.
For those of you out there who have done many cover letters, any suggestions in the comments section for myself and readers would be greatly appreciated!

I wish you all success as you send out poems and cover letters, please drop in again Monday…

Thursday, December 9, 2010

34th Parallel Open Submissions

They are open year-round but choose carefully as you may only send one poem via e-mail as a Microsoft Word or .rtf attachment. You will also need to include a cover letter and while they accept simultaneous submissions be sure to notify them if your poem is accepted elsewhere. Send your poem and cover letter to the poetry editor at:

Check out more details at:

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

Wednesday, December 8, 2010

Poems Found by Poet Hound
“Dawn Dreams” by Rachel Hadas
“Problems of Translation: Problems of Language” by June Jordan

Thanks for clicking in, please drop in tomorrow for more open submissions…

Tuesday, December 7, 2010

Spare Change Poetry by Ed Galing

Ed Galing sent me a collection of poems that he allowed Spare Change to publish in 2001. Spare Change is based in Cambridge, Massachusetts, and provides a means of employment for the homeless in the area. The local homeless sell copies of the Spare Change newspaper for $1.00 on the streets. The press itself is based out of Old Cambridge Baptist Church according to Wikipedia. I will include links at the end for you to learn more about this press because it certainly piqued my interest when Mr. Galing wrote me a letter about it while including this chapbook collection of poems.

The poems inside this collection by Ed Galing describe the hardships of growing up in poverty and then growing old in poverty. As always, Mr. Galing is straightforward and illuminating. Below I am happy to share these poems with you:

Look At Me

Look at me,
Remember me?
I laid down
In the middle
Of the street

Last week
And police
Trampled me
With their horses feet,

While I protested,
And protested

In a land of
Freedom of speech,

And democracy.

They finally
Dragged me and
Threw me into
The police wagon

And took me to
Jail for disorderly
Conduct protesting
Poverty and homelessness,

And it was then
That I took my
Good conduct medal
The army had
Given me,

And threw it in the trash can.

The ending of the poem produces the dramatic impact that is unfortunately necessary these days to bring home the message that we tend to ignore in the news: That free speech isn’t always “free speech” and that the good causes we stand up for are often trampled and mislabeled as “disorderly conduct” because heaven forbid anyone brings the real issues into the light of day. Ed delivers the impact of the absurd treatment of the protestor fighting for others in his home country, his home town, into sharp focus in this poem by throwing away the hard-earned Army Medal for Good Conduct.

Bitter Roots
i never sold apples
during the depression

on this new york
street that i passed by

each day, you would find
them, men with wooden
crates, upon which the

apples rested, and below
the scrawled sign,
“buy an apple and help me…
five cents…”

the men were always so
sad looking and old before
their time, defeated by an

enemy over whom they had no

millions unemployed and out
of work, and i too, was
one of them,

existing on a welfare check
of twenty dollars a week,

living in a cold water flat
alone, and broke…
and often i would shiver in
the cold air, stop, and buy
a sweet apple, munching it
on the way home to nothing,

thinking, it could be me,
it could be me…

and from then on,
even until these days,

an apple has never tasted
the same again.

Times are hard now and I like sharing poems that echo hard times of the past. In this one, Ed shares his days of living on welfare and thinking of the apple sellers as he munches on their wares where it becomes a symbol for him of the hard times he has left behind. As a result, he shares that apples have never tasted the same since. I hope all of us can keep going and make it through these current hard times just as Ed Galing has.

Street Musician

My father was never
Isaac Stern

the famous violinist

but he learned to play
the violin by ear

and would go out
on the street

and play simple

and people would
open up their

and toss coins
out to him wrapped
in tissue paper

my father was the
original street musician

playing for everyone.

He was the Pied Piper
of the lower east side.

and he did a creditable
job of creating music
in the midst of squalor

sometimes he even
came home with a
dollar or two

but his devotion
was worth

I find this poem a wonderful sentimental memory to ponder. The fact that people took the time and care to wrap their coins in tissue paper before tossing them to the musician captures my attention and my imagination, as though they are small gifts raining from the sky. Indeed, the musician most likely saw these wrapped coins as precious gifts and his family benefitted from them. Equally precious is Mr. Galing’s father’s devotion to learning to play well despite the small financial rewards and therefore makes the case that the devotion and care to playing well is worth millions. Mr. Galing has the ability to create vivid pictures in fairly sparse details with his lines and I admire him for it.

Blood Bank Days

i just had about enough
money to make the blood bank
in center of town
that day…
I was broke and hungry..
the center city blood bank
was commercial…
they paid you six bucks
for a pint of blood,
and sold it to others for
many times over, the bastards,
but that was it for me,
and i was too ashamed to beg…
trolley dropped me off on the corner,
and i walked in, to a room full
of down and outers like myself;
all ages, all sexes; all colors;
one thing we all had in common,
we were all there for the same reason.
nurse pricked my finger, dropped
the blood into a bottle, and it showed
i had enough iron in me to go ahead;
few minutes later i am layin
there in the cot,
nurse smiles and jams needle into
my arm, and hangs up bottle, and tells
me to keep squeezing…
i lay there, lookin at the bottle
slowly fillin up with my blood,
my hand pumpin in and out,
and i feel rotten, and dirty, and
but keep thinking of that six
bucks, and the donut i will soon get
with the coffee,
and enough money to ride home.

This poem struck me because I am so used to seeing the Blood Donor vans and think about how many people volunteer their blood to save others and then here is a poem about people who are barely scraping by giving their lifeblood to continue living while at the same time saving lives. It’s quite a revelation when you think about it. A new take on giving blood not only to save someone else but to save yourself from going hungry another day.

homeless poem

when a homeless man
writes a poem

you can bet
he won’t
do it with
just mere

he will use
the blood
that dripped
from his skull

the day the
cop hit him
over the head
with his billy

for no reason
except he was taking
up space in
the bus terminal

and refused to

he will write
his poem

as he stand
on corners

it won’t be a
pretty poem

I feel this is the appropriate poem to end with as the collection was sold by homeless men on the streets and these are poems written by a man who has lived through hard times and can speak for those living in hardship using his own first-hand knowledge. As Mr. Galing says, the homeless man’s poem will not be a “pretty poem.”

Imagine all of the poems we read on-line or in books, in journals, and then think of the poets who we rarely hear from: the poor, the homeless, the severely ill. These are not pretty poems and this feature is not a pretty feature. Just the same, I hope you found them worth reading and I hope you will learn more about this press who helps the homeless.

For the Wikipedia link to learn more about the history of Spare Change and how they work with the homeless please use this link:

To read an interview with a former editor of Spare Change who was no stranger to drugs and life on the streets, see Doug Holder’s interview with Spare Change’s editor Marc Goldfinger at:

To learn about Spare Change’s expansion from an article published in September of this year, please go to:

To learn more about Ed Galing, please visit his blog at:

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

Monday, December 6, 2010

Propaganda Press

I know I’ve said it before but I’ll say it again: Don’t forget to include poetry for gifts for Christmas this year! Alternating Current’s catalog at Propaganda Press includes many wonderful choices and features poets that have appeared on Poet Hound such as: Ed Galing, Hosho McCreesh, Justin Barrett, Christopher Cunningham, Leah Angstman, Julian Gallo, David Pointer, and countless more.

Take a peek and order at:

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

Friday, December 3, 2010

Poetry Tips: Holiday Poems

Plenty of holidays for various countries and religions are approaching and why not use this time to write poems to family and friends as gifts? You can also write poetic prayers for dinner gatherings with family or create a holiday poem for your holiday cards. Last year I sent out a Christmas poem printed on cardstock instead of buying cards at the store. They are inexpensive to make and the time you put into them means more than the store-bought version. If you’ve created poems for gatherings or cards I’d be interested to know in the comments section, let myself and other readers know what family and friends thought of them, too.

Best wishes to all who try it, please drop in again next week…

Thursday, December 2, 2010

Bolts of Silk Open Submissions

Open year-round, you may send between three and six poems up to 40 lines to Juliet Wilson who also runs the Crafty Green Poet blog. Include your name, contact information, and country of origin as Juliet Wilson accepts poems in English, Scots dialects, German, French, Italian or Spanish. In the subject line please include the words “Bolts of Silk.”
E-mail her at Juliet.M.WilsonATgmailDOTcom

Please make sure these poems have not been previously published within the last six months unless it has been in your personal blog and include a link to your blog if you have one.

For more details go to:

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

Wednesday, December 1, 2010

Poems Found by Poet Hound
“Music of Night for Michael Gizzi” by Lisa Jarnot
“A Curtain of Wine Bottle Tops” by Mavis Gulliver

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

Monday, November 29, 2010

Dancing Girl Press

Kristy Bowen champions women in her selections of chapbook manuscripts and her on-line literary journal Wicked Alice is also a delight to read. Please check out the chapbooks available and the poems at Wicket Alice by using the link below:

Thanks for clicking in, please drop in again on Wednesday…

Thursday, November 25, 2010

Blue Mesa Review Open Submissions...

You may send up to five poems via their on-line submissions system if you use the link below or you may mail your poems with your contact information and a self-addressed stamped envelope to:

Poetry Editor
Blue Mesa Review
Department of English
MCS 03-2170
University of New Mexico
Albuquerque, NM 87131-0001

Please see the link below for more details:

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

Also, Happy Thanksgiving to all of you celebrating out there, may you have some downtime to be creative and please drop in again next week...

Wednesday, November 24, 2010

Poems Found by Poet Hound
“Something That Happened in Brooklyn” by Andrew James Weatherhead
“Cherry Blossom Storm” by Henri Cole

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

Tuesday, November 23, 2010

Kimiko Hahn's Toxic Flora

Kimiko Hahn is a poet who was born in 1955 in Mount Kisco, New York, to a Japanese American mother and a German American Father, both of whom were artists. Ms. Hahn received her undergrad English degree from the University of Iowa and her Master’s in Japanese literature in Columbia University. She has several collections of poetry including “The Unbearable Heart” which received an American Book Award. I found her book Toxic Flora in my local library and the poems are elegant, fierce, and complex while beautiful and thought provoking. She mixes real life with scientific forays into plants and insects and often connects the discoveries to revelations about her own family. Here I will share a few excerpts from a few poems below:

Yellow Jackets

protect through venom and candor

While timing their own dinners
to mother’s tray, father’s tongs,

they can sting any intruder repeatedly
unlike the honeybee’s suicidal sortie.

through simple narration:
your mouth never stops moving.

Or, you eat off other plates as if they’re your own.

A startling attribute I wish I could emulate
if only my sting possessed such integrity.

I could not include the poem in its entirety since I do not have permission from the poet or publisher to do so however I hope I’ve included enough to do the poem justice. Ms. Hahn incorporates the stinging activities of the yellow jacket with the stinging words in italics of people which makes a great pairing in the poem to get its point across. The poet wishes she had the ability to sting with words the way a yellow jacket is able to sting repeatedly its enemy. Don’t we all wish we had that ability at times?

On Butterflies

Only the rare butterfly eats
live things:

the Hyposmacoma’s caterpillar
weaves silk around a mollusk

fastening the shell to a leaf
then sticks its head inside,

eating the snal alive.

to a wolf that dives for clams.

I see it as a little girl
who tears apart a little friend

Or a mother who rips open her own infant

to release the demon inside.
This hunger is less rare

than a butterfly with sharp teeth.
My mother is from Maui.

I really hope both publisher and poet forgive me for including nearly the entire poem but it is hard to portray the meaning without including most of the lines. In any case, what I love is that the poet first finds a rare phenomenon among a particular species and then pairs it with the destructive behaviors (not always so rare) among humans who tear each other apart either physically, mentally, or emotionally. The ending line “My mother is from Maui” is the most startling of the entire poem. Is Ms. Hahn’s mother cruel? Or is she simply from the same location as this particular species of butterfly? Either way I enjoy being left to ponder the idea as it lends itself towards re-reading the poem and taking in more details. Children who hurt their friends, mothers who try to release the demons in an infant and what kind of demons would an infant possess? Finally, what about her mother? The ultimate curiosity with which we’re left on our own to ponder.

For W

I don’t understand space—the emptiness

Take the protostar: I can’t grasp
how clouds of dust and gas can collapse

then suck up more stuff and expand

where did Mother disappear
after the car crash? Where

is my daughters’ grandmother
since they’ve learned there is no heaven—

except for rose, hedge, and pine?

a thing breaks down
yet shows no sign of ceasing?

And what now is the nature of her form?

Existential, yes, but poetry is about life, death, the living in between. Ms. Hahn questions what happens to the soul after death, the energy that space takes up despite constant collapse and destruction, death and rebirth. Who among us doesn’t wonder the same thing when a loved one passes away? Ms. Hahn’s version is elegant, spare, and beautiful which is what we need to read sometimes in order to find solace.

I hope that you enjoyed the excerpts of these poems, I can only hope I did them justice. There are countless poems I would like to share and many are too short for me to pull excerpts from so I urge you to find a copy for yourself.

To learn more about Kimiko Hahn, see the link below:

To obtain a copy of Toxic Flora for yourself you may find one in your own local library or at:

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

Monday, November 22, 2010

Press Press Press

This blog has been a longtime feature on the sidebar and considering that the gift-giving holidays are rapidly approaching I feel that this would be a wonderful site to look over the latest poetry chapbooks available for the lover-of-poetry in your lives. You can also jot down titles and the website for your own Christmas list, check it out at:

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

Friday, November 19, 2010

Internet troubles

Hello Everyone,
My computer last night mysteriously began having trouble with its IP address so while we have internet, my computer cannot log on. If you any of you know how to fix that as I am not very good with computers, I'd appreciate it. Otherwise there may be a delay in posts while I call up the experts.

In the meantime, have a wonderful weekend!

Thursday, November 18, 2010

Lilliput Review Open Submissions

Send up to 3 poems, each must be ten lines or less including the title, to Don Wentworth via snail mail with a self-addressed, stamped envelope enclosed to:
Lilliput Review
Don Wentworth, Editor
282 Main Street
Pittsburgh, PA 15201

For further details, check out the website:

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

Wednesday, November 17, 2010

Poems Found by Poet Hound
“What Holds Constant 9/01/09” by Virginia Bell
“The Emperor” by Mathew Rohrer

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

Tuesday, November 16, 2010

Sorry everyone...

Hello everyone, I am afraid there is no post for today, either. I need to drop by my local library and see what they have so I should have something for next week. In the meantime, please check in tomorrow…

Monday, November 15, 2010

Chicano Poet Blog

I have been dropping in on Reyes Cardenas’ blog and reading his poems for years now. They remind me of living on the Texas/Mexico Border, even though he lives in Papalote, Aztlan. He reminds me of people I have met and missed, of words I long to hear again. I am definitely overdue to feature him here and I hope you’ll enjoy his poems for years to come because I know I will:

Thanks for clicking in, please drop by tomorrow…

Friday, November 12, 2010

Poetry Tips: Common Colds

Yes, I was out sick at work and this inspired me to write some poems. Why not use the same opportunity to write bad poetry you can blow your nose on? Or perhaps poetry that laments illness, the absence of co-workers who are out sick, or a spouse who has made it impossible for you to sleep because they are coughing all night. The common cold is back to haunt us, why not designate some feel-good, or feel-bad poems about it?

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

Thursday, November 11, 2010

Bateau Magazine Open Submissions

You may visit the link below and use their on-line submissions link to submit up to five poems and/or translations of poems. For more details, please explore their website:

Good luck to all who submit, please drop in again tomorrow…

Wednesday, November 10, 2010

Poems Found by Poet Hound
“Seven Months Later” by Priscilla Atkins
“Summer’s End” by Scot Siegel

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

Tuesday, November 9, 2010


My apologies everyone, I came down with a severe cold and so I am afraid I do not have a post for today. Please check in again tomorrow, though, for more Poems Found by Poet Hound…

Monday, November 8, 2010

Creative Writing Now

Nancy Strauss sent me a link the web-site that includes instructions on how to write poetry or fiction, there are writing prompts and free writing courses available. It’s easy to navigate and I had a wonderful time perusing through it, please check it out at:

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

Friday, November 5, 2010

Poetry Tips: The Blues

Times are supposed to be getting better but every day more people I know are being laid off, or are still unable to find work. Everyone is singing the blues these days and it makes me want to play a harmonica after my poetry. This week try to write “Blues Poetry” and if you have a harmonica handy, try adding that to your mix, too.

Good luck to all who try it, please stop in again next week.

Thursday, November 4, 2010

Alternating Current Open Submissions

Leah Angstman of Alternating Current needs poems, particularly by female poets, to be sent her way for various on-line publication projects. You may send up to five to,

For more details, visit the blog:

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

Wednesday, November 3, 2010

Poems Found by Poet Hound
“The Internet” by Garth Pavell
“Stargnoc Caz!” by Bernadette Mayer

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

Tuesday, November 2, 2010

An Interview With Luke Armstrong

Luke Maguire Armstrong resides in Antigua, Guatemala where he is the director of the educational development organization Nuestros Ahijados. He has published a collection of poems through Potent Possibilities Publishing titled iPoems for the Dolphins to Click Home About which is also the title to one of the poems in the collection. The introduction alone is worth picking up a copy for yourself as I laughed so hard my husband begged me to read it aloud. The cover is tongue-in-cheek as well, and once you read the intro you then focus on the poems which range from funny to serious to worldly. I was intrigued by the entire package and just had to dig into the mind of Mr. Armstrong, who willingly obliged:

1. Your cover features dolphins against the waves, the title is large and easy to read, and then there’s this white circle towards the bottom and in the circle it says “if this book were to win an award, we’d put it here.” Seeing the circle and its text made me laugh aloud before I even bothered to open to the first page. Why did you decided to throw that on the cover?

Because I thought it was funny. It was just a matter of, once I had the idea to put something like that on the cover, there was no way I was not going to do it. It stays with the theme of the book of making poetry fun without compromising the artistic integrity.

2. As if the cover wasn’t enough, you have a table of contents that has absolutely nothing to do with the titles of your poems but are quite funny to read such as: “Hiring Your Girlfriend: Mistake or Best Decision You Ever Made?” and “Bathing Kitties: A Reluctant Memoir,” and “Bathing Old People For Money: A Reluctant Memoir.” When I eagerly flipped through the pages to those poems they were nowhere to be found but the poems were wonderful enough to make up for it. Then you find a creatively done map that serves as a more accurate table of contents but doesn’t exactly give away the exact titles. What prompted you to do an incongruous table of contents and then a map of an almost-table-of-contents for your readers?

When I was putting this book together, funny titles for poems that did not exist would just sorta pop into my head, and I’d write them on napkins or whatever I had to write on. I knew I had to include them somehow in the book, and creating a fake table of contents seemed like a winning idea.

At some point in our lives, we all ask ourselves the deep question, “Are treasure maps the coolest thing ever?” I think there is something universally awesome about treasure maps. I know I spent a large part of my youth making “pirate treasure maps”. In writing a poetry book, a pirate treasure map seemed a good direction to take. Credit goes to my friend Andrea C. Johnson, who took the idea and used her talents as an artist to create the map.

3. Mr. Armstrong, your Foreword is so funny that I would love to reproduce it in its entirety but I don’t have the energy to retype that much text and the readers of this interview really ought to get a copy for themselves, anyway, to thoroughly enjoy it. I would like to quote a couple of excerpts and ask you to expound on how you came to write this Foreword:

“If you have ever listened to poets talking about poetry (when we consume alcohol we tend to rant), you’ll discover that we feel a little left out. We see the Jonas Brothers rocking out and filling up stadiums of screaming teenage girls, while us poets sit on coffee shop stools and look out at an embarrassing acreage of five pale faces who have come to our poetry reading (usually all five in attendance are our mom.)”
Mr. Armstrong, this had me rolling on the floor as you really seem to understand poets’ plights, please expound on why you would share this sentiment with readers of your collection?

You never hear someone say, “You’re only a poet for the fame and fortune and free Ferris wheel rides!” Poetry is an interesting endeavor. Tons of work goes into it, but there are very few financial or other rewards to it. And this is okay. It just means that people write poetry for the right reasons. In my experience, there is no such thing as being a sell out and a poet.

Here’s another excerpt that really hits the nail on the head for me at least, please tell me more about why you thought to share this sentiment with your readers:
“We are all English majors who aspired to be Shakespeares, and when that failed, we aspired to be Hemmingways, and when that failed, most of us decided between having drug problems or becoming English teachers. That’s why your high school English teacher was so cranky. She not only was not Shakespeare, she chose teaching you not to end your sentences with a preposition instead of hitting a bong with your tied-dyed friends with names like Star, Cheebuz and Bob Marley.”
Please expound on why you would share this sentiment with potential readers?

I have to say, I had great English teachers in high school who went into teaching for all the right reasons. To my knowledge, none of them are drug addicts…
I have lots of friends from college who sort of gave up on their dream of writing when they had some setbacks early on and had to take jobs as teachers. There is absolutely nothing wrong with that. People need to make their ends meet, and teaching is one of the most beautiful ways to do that. But this is no reason to stop writing creatively. At the heart of it all, writing in-and-of-itself is a worthwhile enough enterprise to do for its own sake.

4. After the Foreword you present your Marketing Plan and how you hope word of mouth is important and that profits from this book will go to charity and say “Who says that poetry can’t save the world?” Please let us know which charity the profits are being sent to and what does the charity mean to you?

There’s no marketing budget for this book, or even much of a marketing plan for that matter. Publishing the book was never my intention when I was writing these poems. Writing poetry is just something I do for myself. But after accumulating a lot of material, it felt right to be putting some of them into a book. The whole thing is a result of a big mindset shift. I never used to share my poetry much with others. Then a writer friend, Alex Ferrar, invited me to read at a reading he was organizing. The feedback was positive enough that I started sharing it with friends and submitting it more for publication—all of which eventually led to the book.

It also feels right that if sales of this book somehow take off, which could only happen through word of mouth, that I put some of that where it can do some good. So a portion of any profits will go to the charity I work for ( This is a wonderful organization that is changing thousands of lives worldwide. I’m lucky, in that when I go to work, I get to see those lives changed and even help make it happen.

5. Now that we’ve gotten this far with you, we can now focus on your poetry which is a wide range of subjects with an even larger variety of emotional responses which could be provoked depending on how your readers view the particular poem at hand. I would say your poems range from trying to awaken the world to the plights of the less fortunate to ones that make readers laugh at your childhood antics and perhaps drunken college days. How did you decide to select such a broad range and put them together into one collection?

I’m laughing at you describing them as “drunken college days.” As I said in the earlier response, I never set out to write a book of poetry. I’ve been writing poetry since I was a kid, and before that I was expressing myself through journaling. What made it to the book are poems mostly written over the last three years. I put in what I considered to be my best work. I also left some out that I felt were negative and without the silver lining of hope to them. We all have good days and bad days, and as writers both are reflected in the writing we produce during those times. I’m a believer that there really is no reason to share with the world work that has an intrinsically negative nature. We all have lots of faces, but should strive to show the smiling ones to the world.

6. I would like to share a few of your poems with readers and ask you about them. Since I’m running with the theme of “funny” I’ll start with your own rendition of Robert Frost’s “The Road Not Taken” which you’ve turned into as “The Drink Not Taken.” How did this poem come about and how did you decide to model it after Robert Frost’s poem?

This poem was written when I was in college, for a literary journal that was looking for “bad poetry”. They rejected this poem telling me that it was “too good” for what they wanted. That was some irony, since most of my poetry at the time was not being accepted into literary journals because it was “not good enough.”

The Drink Not Taken
Two drinks settled on a yellow table,
And sorry I was able to drink only one
And be but one drinker long I gazed
And looked intently at both the labels,
For a closer inspection, both to the light I raised.

The first was light and smelled of juice
And having within it nothing to impair,
While the other was of a higher proof.
Though deep down I knew I should care,
Recklessly, I took the second and drank it bare.

And that next morning in bed I lay
With pounding head and eyes shut tight,
I realized shortly I’d slept through the day.
I should have realized that through the night,
Drink leads to drink and then to drunken plight.

I shall be telling this with a sigh,
Somewhere ages and ages hence:
Two drinks settled on a table and I,
Drank the one with alcohol content high
And that has made all the difference.

7. This next poem is called “Lunch Box Filled With Cat,” in which two young boys smuggle a cat into their room and it is discovered by the parents who return it to the rightful owners next door. I love that the main boy desperately wants a pet and fulfills his desire by simply picking up the cat and smuggling it into his room. Is this something that really happened or did you come up with this poem another way? What inspired you to write a poem about childhood adventures like this one?

This particular poem is inspired by reality. When I was eight, I really did kidnap a neighbor’s cat. I got in a lot of trouble for that. As the poem truthfully recalls, I was no longer allowed to have my own room when my parents found out. If only that cat had been a little quieter…

A Lunchbox Filled With Cat

Having only eight years frees you
Like birds soaring because they can.
Your own room is limitless space that lets you paint
The world even a peacock color—it turns
All things into possibilities—even pet cats.

A neighbor’s cat—lounging lazily on her porch—
A reminder of things you do not possess—
Things you do not possess—
A reminder of still possible things—
Still possible thing—
The need for a plan.

The plan:
1) Coax the cat with cheese.
2) Stuff cat in large, red lunch box.

Your room’s closet.
Your own room’s closet.

Your own room’s closet—
Soon to be cat cage.

And so with a faithful younger brother in tow
The world is suddenly remade—even a pet cat is now possible—
Is smuggled into your closet via a lunch box.
Our precious pet—which we fed with fish sticks—
That we gave a pillow for a litter box
And a sleeping bag for a bed—
That clever cat
Who used the pillow for a bed and
The sleeping bag as a litter box.

And for three days the cat and world were ours.
And were it not for too loud a meow, our father would
Not have been brought to anger—I would not have been
Brought to apologize to worried neighbors—I would not
have been punished—
forced to again share a room with my younger sibling—
I would not have been brought back to the stinking
Society of a younger brother still in diapers.

And this world has not changed.
Today there are no less kidnap-able cats,
No less lunch boxes.

The world has not changed—but something has.

Today I have my own room, but not my own world.
And every day I pass by cat-filled porches and
Wonder where the desire to coax them with cheese has gone.
The world has not changed, it has just been found finite.

8. This is a poem you mention in your introduction as one your mother would not be happy with but it is a poem which most people can relate to, especially the college crowd. Why did you decide to write this poem and if your mother did read it, what did she have to say about it?

My very religious mother, who is also a writer and proofread the manuscript of the book for me, certainly would have liked that I leave that poem out, but I think she understood why I kept it in. I kept the poem because it is not a poem about one-night-stands. It is not exploring a racy issue just for shock value. For me, it’s about the underlying human essence that causes people to want to have a one-night-stand. The poem is a realization of that.

I added the last two lines, “And this is hopeful. / And hope is love.” months after I had written the poem. I don’t think I would have included the poem in the book were it not for the addition of these two lines. They somehow changed the poem; it made the subject of one-night-stands somehow seem acceptable—when framed in the right context. Poetry is so much about how we frame things. By reading someone’s poetry, you have clues to how they see the world. Sometimes I’ll look at a poem I’ve written and wonder, “Is this poem true? Is it necessary? Is it kind?” When I say truth, I’m not thinking did it happen, but of Truth with a capital T. Meaning, does the poem invoke some essence of humanity? When I say kind, I mean, is the poem a positive take on reality? This is so important. Just by being part of the world, we are all charged with the responsibility of shaping it.

Whether we like it or not, we are all changing the world. The only question is to what degree and was it for the better or worse. Writers of poetry are not excluded from this. You can explore sad and taboo issues. This has always been the playing field of poets, but I think it is intellectual laziness to just stop there without offering readers road out of any darkness a poem or story leads them to.

To The Fathers Of The Daughters Who End Up In My Bedroom

Man to man, you know how it is,
Let us discuss some few things:

Everything will be dark, so we
Need not concern ourselves
About whether there is, or there
Is not, a decaying apple core in the corner.

Words are merely words and lies
Also words. Things happen
And there is sometimes a pot
Of gold at the bottom bottled beer.

I won’t call the false number
She gave me, so don’t stress it,
We will not meet over an
Awkward table, so never
Concern yourself about
Who will foot the bill.

If she needs a taxi tomorrow, I
Will offer to pay and she will
Refuse, choosing instead to use
Her daddy’s money.

You have raised her well, though
I admit my standards have
Slipped lately. Were you in my shoes,
You sir, would not have shoes on at all.

And after it all, in the dark light
Of the familiar edge of my bed,
As we both rummage through our
Value systems, searching for
Fleeting silver linings, we will
Sit listening, to the intimate voice
Of mutually vanishing
Exclusive revelations.

And one day, to my despair,
The tentative daughter,
That I hope your daughter is not
Carrying, will likely do the
Same human thing.
And this is hopeful.
And hope is love.

9. I would like to take a turn here to note you do have more serious poems, one in which I am curious as to whether it really is about you or from the perspective of someone close to you. The poem title is “The Certainty: Either We Must Become Orphans Or Parents Who Lose Who They Most Love.” The poem speaks of brother and sister driving with the knowledge that their parents have passed away. Please let us know how this poem came about and why you wanted to share the quiet, contemplative drive with your readers?

I know it is going to be a good poem when it just writes itself. This poem did that. I’m blessed in that both my parents are still alive. Art has such a strange dimension to it. When I read this poem, I can feel that it is vividly true. Even though I have not personally lost my parents, I can picture the car and the two siblings and I can hear the sound of the tires on the road and feel the frost on the window. I can even taste the coffee. This is what makes art so strangely wonderful, that it can be True, without really being true.

The sentiment I was really trying to express was about eventually finding love. I realized, somewhat sadly, that falling in love in the future means only knowing that person from the present onwards. I’ve calmed down a lot over the last few years. And that’s a good thing. But it is somewhat bittersweet knowing that whomever I meet from this day onwards will only see the destination and not the journey. This is why there is nothing as wonderful as an old friend, someone who knows both the journey and destination. So this was the point of the poem, and somehow it came out framed as a brother and sister driving down a dark highway, alone after their parent’s funeral.

The Certainty: Either We Must Become Orphans Or Parents Lose Who They Most Love

My sister sits silently steering as we
Speed back to returning to normal lives—
Lives built years ago by him and her
Now both not resting, not sleeping, not rising—

Cars hum by. I’m trivially troubled by the
Modifier in “good as gone.” Cars hum by.

Slowly I feel and taste a connection between
The humming highway and the warmth of my Starbucks.

Time’s frozen. Neither words nor glances pass between us.
We understand. Cars hum by.

Highway. Icy. Progress.

Lately I’ve become too old to still be young.
When my parents were my age they were married
With two kids and a promise that lasted till the end.
Cars, still, hum by.

Back then love was something that happened early.
And I’m not too worried it won’t, but it will be long
After I’m worth knowing.

We won’t experience the youthful best of each other,
But taking turns listening, we will settle for being
Ambassadors to our own pasts:

Rugged youthful stories: Black out binging, altered
Everything, new consciousness, have-beard-will-hitch-
hike, first and last times, recklessness that led to wrecks, the
future, as we uninhibitedly dreamt it should be.

The past won’t repeat itself in the future. We’ll repeat it.
Good as gone. As gone as cars humming by.

As the light fades, my sister turns on the headlights that
Illuminate the next few moments of highway.
Every minute twin lights moving faster than our ability
To survive an impact speed inches by the left.

It’s intimate inside the heated car. But to everyone outside
We are just a pair of anonymous lights speeding through the
Strange darkness, wondering when we’ll cross paths with
someone, hoping to one day leave loves orphaned to the
forgiving future.

Mr. Armstrong, thank you for sharing your work with me and allowing me to interview you. You have many more wonderful poems and I hope readers of this interview will seek out a copy for themselves. Please keep in touch and I wish you continued success in your writing.

If you enjoyed this interview and the poems shared you may purchase a copy for yourself for $9.95 at (shipping and handling not included) by following the link below:

Thanks for reading, please drop by tomorrow for more Poetry Tips…

Monday, November 1, 2010

A Handful of Stones

Find lovely gemstones of poems and writing edited by Fiona Robyn at her blog below:

Thanks for clicking in, please stop in again tomorrow.

Friday, October 29, 2010

Poetry Tips: Positive Peer Pressure

You are never too old to experience “peer pressure” if you ask me. As poets, if you feel a friend has talent, you should encourage them to continue writing. If they write for pleasure but ask your advice, gently guide them forward. Poetry is a community and we should make it as positive and encouraging a community as we can. This week, seek out friends who can give you an honest and tactful critique or offer the same to your friends. You just may strengthen your relationship and improve your own poetry as a result.

Thanks for clicking in, please stop in again next week…

Thursday, October 28, 2010

Alaska Quarterly Review Open Submissions

You may send up to 20 pages of poetry (they prefer not to read light verse) between August 15th and May 15th with a cover letter addressed to Poetry Editor and your contact information via snail mail to:
Alaska Quarterly Review
University of Alaska Anchorage
3211 Providence Drive (ESH 208)
Anchorage, AK 99508

For further details go to:

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

Wednesday, October 27, 2010

Poems Found by Poet Hound
“We Old Dudes” by Joan Murray
“Fusiturricula Lullaby”
by Gjertrud Schnackenberg

Thanks for clicking in, please stop by tomorrow for more open submissions…

Tuesday, October 26, 2010

Durable Goods Microzine

Durable Goods is a microzine which is so micro that I cannot really even feature an individual issue. You will definitely need to check out their blog to learn more and I am going to share just one poem per issue as forwarded to me by Alternating Current:

Durable Goods Issue 20:

Maybe I Expected Something More Profound

operating rooms are bitter cold
and those black slab tables are stiff

sounds dissolve into liquid metal
when the nurse lets me know
the knockout drugs are in

I say two words and they reverb like
a robot pulling its own wires:
“hummingbird hamburger:

some other robot voice laughs
and I’m gone

I mistook dying for two very distinct places


a zen temple with a black sand
octagon buried to my waist
and midgets shuttling me tiny plastic
cups of cold green tea


the attic of a bent old Victorian
tied down to a cement mattress
squat teenage nurses holding gas
over my face, oxygen hyper-blasted
down my throat
and dinosaur jr. wafting from
lower in the house

by: Shawn Misener

I enjoyed this poem because of the strange delusions experienced from the anesthetics. I’ve never had to experience such a thing but I’ve heard tales, and Shawn Misener turned it into entertaining poetry.

Durable Goods Issue 24:

She wears my vertebrae
hanging from her wrist—
each one collected as a charm.

They drum against each other
like hollow wind chimes
as her hips rock pneumatic
down Hollywood Boulevard.

She steps on stars
in those nasty boots

and wonders
out loud –
when I’ll grow a spine

By: Jason Hardung

This poem is a new take on “wrapped around your finger,” don’t you think? I really like the description of the vertebrae drumming together around this woman’s wrist as she wonders when the poet will grow a spine. He has one, the problem is that she’s got it wrapped around her wrist. Very interesting take on things, I like it.

If you enjoyed this micro-sample, please consider a subscription. It is a mere $12 US or $14 International for a 2011 subscription of 22 issues, for more details please use the link below:

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

Monday, October 25, 2010

Ink Haven

Annie Kerr posts regularly about her poetic endeavors, shares beautiful photographs and blogs about the beauty of the landscape around her. Check it out at:

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

Friday, October 22, 2010

Poetry Tips: Blogging

This is not about reading other people’s blogs, this is the active verb to blog, specifically about poetry. Many poets use blogs to share their own work, many are like myself and post things they believe are interesting or helpful.

For those of you who have blogs you know that it takes more time and effort to create it than for anyone visiting to read it. Even then, your readers most likely skim the material.

So is blogging right for you? Well, Monday’s post about Ron Silliman having three million bloggers would suggest that if you work hard and long at your passion, yes, it is worth the time and effort.

As for myself, I feel I have learned much more trying to blog than by trying to write and submit. This blog forces me to move out of my comfort zone to try new things, send poems to new places, to reach out to poets I would have been too shy to otherwise, and it has allowed other poets to reach out to me knowing that I support poets and poetry in all of its forms.

If you don’t have a blog you do not have to create one. The point for this post is to consider the idea. Find a way to reach out to more readers, writers, and editors and you may just surprise yourself.

For any veteran bloggers out there (I’d say you are veteran if you’ve been posting regularly for at least one full year) I’d love to see your thoughts about blogging in the comments section.

For potential bloggers, please feel free to leave questions in the comments section, even if you are afraid to ask a seemingly simple question all questions are good questions when it is unfamiliar territory.

Thanks for dropping in, please stop by again next week…

Rattle Open Submissions

You may send up to six poems, any length, throughout the year to Rattle Poetry. You may also send your work elsewhere but if your work is accepted elsewhere you must notify the staff at Rattle immediately. Make sure you look at their site to see if any of your poems fit any of the “themes” in upcoming issues to increase your chances of acceptance.

You also need to include your contact information. If submitting via e-mail to submissionsATrattleDOTcom, it would behoove you to put “Poetry Submission” and your last name as the title of your subject line in the e-mail.

If submitting by snail mail to:
12411 Ventura Blvd.
Studio City, CA 91604

Make sure your contact information is on each page of poetry.

For more details, visit:

Good luck to all of you who submit

Poems Found by Poet Hound

I have said before that I have been getting up early and as a result, forgetting my Poet Hound posts, so I do apologize. Here are the weeks' posts as they should have appeared:
Amy David’s “Reassurance”
Teresa Petro-Micchelli’s “Bob Dylan’s Lost Children”

Thanks for clicking in, please stop by tomorrow for more Open Submission…

Tuesday, October 19, 2010

An Interview With Ed Galing

Ed Galing was born in New York City in 1917 on the lower east side and has lived an adventurous life serving in World War II, giving performances with his harmonica, and publishing book reviews, articles, poetry (of course) and essays all over the United States. He has won literary awards, been given numerous literary nominations and has been featured in several literary journals in addition to serving as Poet Laureate in his now hometown of Hatboro, Pennsylvania. Did I mention he is also 93 this year? Mr. Galing’s poetry collections have been featured before on Poet Hound and I feel it is time to pick his brain and he was kind enough to oblige. This interview also focuses on his collection of poems in a chapbook titled Senior Center, published by Peerless Press, which is a world in itself that the majority of us don’t think about often, if at all. Not only is Mr. Galing himself an interesting subject but so is this collection of poems so let’s marry the two and proceed:

1.) Mr. Galing, thank you so much for agreeing to be interviewed. You’ve been writing for decades and you are still going. Any advice for writers who want to write as long as you’ve been writing? Any secrets such as “eat corned beef every day?”

Writing poetry, or any other media, fiction, articles, etc. is a burning desire to communicate with other people. One has to be committed-- (almost like a marriage) a true writer will always write – never stop. Others will do it for a while, then give up! Age has nothing to do with it! Only PASSION!

2.) I have read poets who discuss aging and how their lives are affected by it but you are the first to discuss life in a Senior Center, which is also the title of your collection that I have in front of me. May I ask why you wanted to devote a collection of poems to the people who work at and visit a Senior Center?

When I wrote Senior Center I envisioned those who go to them, who never had a VOICE! I wanted everyone to know about them—their LIVES, etc. Mostly widows and widowers—the lonely—sadly not many read this chap[book].

3.) The next few questions I’ll be asking you to expand on how you came up with some of the poems inside this chapbook. The first one I’d like to ask you about is “A Haven of Refuge.” For one, it is a group of people gathering for a very inexpensive meal, and second, you do not necessarily end up sitting with someone you know. For people like me who know nothing about Senior Centers, how is it that such a place comes into existence? Also, why do you sometimes end up next to strangers? Is it something the staff arranges or is it something you do to meet new people? Finally, you end with the easing of loneliness which is a feeling we can all relate to. Can you expand on the feeling of loneliness before you arrive at the Senior Center that drives people to come here for a meal and companionship?

A Haven For Refuge

we have several
in our senior
but the favorite
is the main
dining room…
open from twelve
to three,
and for just
fifty centers,
we are able to
sit down at a
round table,
complete with
table cloths,
holding about
six or seven
people each,
being served
a great jewish
meal on a nice
soup and salad,
chicken or fish,
while we rub
shoulders with
whoever is next
to us,
getting acquainted
all over again,
strangers when we
came in,
now no longer,
as we sip the soup,
eat our dessert,
and no longer
alone in the world.

Those of us who attend Senior Centers soon become friends—the common bond is we are mostly Jewish and share different experiences sitting around the table, men and women, being served by others, soon begin to talk, and share their lives. And they are all so interesting, all ages. The Government subsidizes the meals—and they are delicious. It’s almost like a “Red Cross Club” during WWII when everyone in the “SERVICE” came together. It’s a bond, a sharing—Senior Centers have been around a long time—being alone is often frightening—as my poem relates—togetherness spells LOVE! & Peace.

4.) In your poem, “The Young and the Old” you describe how the energy from the young people infuses you and your fellow visitors with joy and how at the end you feel like crying when a young girl kisses your cheek. Having worked as an Activities Director of a nursing home I know how much older people enjoy visiting with younger people. Some of the residents would say, “I don’t like being stuck talking to old people all of the time.” That sentiment comes clear to me in this poem, can you explain the importance of having a mix of ages to interact with in daily life for our other readers?

The Young and the Old

in our senior center
youth is celebrated
there are times when
the young come to
visit us;
they mingle with
we older folks,
and it makes us feel good;
the young boys
and girls
who visit
our center
come willingly,
to mingle with
us older ones;
to intermingle
and we swap stories;
and we listen to
their eager voices;
their freshness is
a joy to behold;
we all gather in
the large dayroom
when they come;
sometimes they entertain
they dance and sing;
to broadway sketches;
we sit in chairs while
they perform;
marveling how they move;
the joy in their faces;
there is a time when
the old and the young
in our center share
a common bond of humanity;
and once, when a young
lady kissed my cheek,
i almost felt like crying.

Senior Centers and adult day care centers are needed for those of us who are not too well, or lost someone, and needs a place for someone to take care of them for a few hours. Besides health care, they also have amusements, all kinds of singing, dog acts, harmonica, magicians, and young people to make the old people feel good. Both young and old learn from it.

My wife attended day care when she was 80 some years old. She mingled with others her own age while I did the shopping, etc. and I took a break. There were lots of activities and lunch, too, it was necessary.

5.) I think your poem, “Philosophy” is a very important one in capturing the sentiments I often hear expressed of people who are aging and I have to say I agree with your poem wholeheartedly. I am not quite sure how to phrase what I want to ask you for this poem but it boils down to this: How can you enlighten those of us who are younger as to what older people really want to see on television and hear on the radio? What is important to you and other people your age versus what those of us under 65 are led to believe thanks to the media that is focused on youth?


I am not a
very sociable

neither am i
a hermit

there are times
when the senior
center does
bother me a bit,

i will admit

i feel as if these
people are like

wanting to be cooped
up with our own

trying to keep old
age in a corner,

locked up in a box
away from the outside

everything on the outside
is geared to youth,

old people are never mentioned
in any television ads,
except when it comes to
arthritis; alzheimers;
constipation; diabetes; and
clogged arteries..

i begin to feel
like i want to stand
up on a soap box and
shout out loud,
liars, liars..
we live too…

Well, of course it’s the Young and Beautiful—but aging needs to be honored, recognized, respected, and understood. Many get older in looks but inside we’re FINE. Yes, we hate the thought of being old. I think women, more than men. Movie stars—all that, face lifts, all that. More older people now than ever and a cheerful redignation is better than “pumped up” make-overs. “Dem’s my Thoughts!”

6.) There are many poems I’d love to feature but then our readers wouldn’t have as large an incentive to reach out to you and read more of your work so let’s stick with some lines that piqued my interest instead of sharing poems in their entirety. You mention your wife who passed away several years ago and how you do not have someone at your side every day to pass the days with. If you don’t mind, can you expand on the role your wife played in your daily lives together and what life is like now in comparison without her?

The saddest, most heart breaking moment of my LIFE when my dear WIFE died at 88. She was very ill by then—Alzheimer’s, all kinds of ailments—I LOVED my wife—we were like Brother & Sister—like lovers, always. I loved her smile—her sense of humor—she was BEAUTIFUL! We went everywhere together, trips to the shore, New York, all over—I GRIEVE every day—I MISS HER.

7.) The last question I have for your collection is the one regarding the other Senior Center visitors. Many different kinds of people come to the Senior Center, including those who are homeless, you mentioned. How does such a large mix of people interact here in relative acceptance when in earlier years this mix of people would be unheard of in locations such as restaurants or parties or business events? What makes a Senior Center different from any other gathering place?

There is a linking bond at a Senior Center. A common sharing. Restaurants, parties, you come & go—it’s IMPERSONAL. Dancing helps, too, and MUSIC!

8.) Mr. Galing, being 93 and a poet who has lived a life full of family, friends, writers, do you still feel lonely more often than not? What do you do for yourself to combat those feelings nowadays? Any advice for the rest of us who may be lonely at different times in our lives?

Oh-oh-at 93, I am now in a “Scooter” Chair. Disabled. But get around. Lonely as heck. Write every day, I have people to help me every day from Government. Meditate. That HELPS.

Mr. Galing, thank you so much for answering my questions. I hope readers not only come away with an appreciation of your poetry but also an appreciation for people who are, as you say, “trying to keep old/age in a corner.” I hope to be as strong in mind and opinion as you are while I continue to age.

“Music Helps, PLAY harmonica”

If you enjoyed this interview and you would like to purchase a copy of Senior Center it is a mere $5.00. Please e-mail me at:
I will be happy to provide Mr. Galing’s address so that you may obtain a copy for yourself.

Monday, October 18, 2010

Ron Silliman's 3 Millionth Visitor

On Oct. 14th Mr. Silliman announced he would soon have his 3 millionth visitor. That’s right, that’s what he said! He also talks more about the idea of poets reaching out by blogging and I urge you to read that post so when you visit his site, scroll down and read about this new record. It just may inspire you:

Thanks for clicking in, please drop in tomorrow for an interview with poet Ed Galing…

Friday, October 15, 2010

Open Submissions and Poetry Tips

I have been trying to get up earlier these days and I have to say, the sleepiness in the morning has made me forgetful, so my apologies for skipping Thursday, here's both Thursday and Friday's features:

Open Submissions:

Ampersand Review

You should check out the link below, their guidelines are humorous and open year-round, but note you may e-mail five poems with your contact information to:

For further details, go to:

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

Poetry Tips: Be Bold

Lately I have been pleased with the e-mails I have been receiving from poets who are polite yet bold enough to ask if I’d like to review their chapbook. So far they have all been men and I don’t know if that is coincidence or not but I’d like to extend the invitation to women to be bold and to men who haven’t taken the plunge. There is nothing wrong with finding a blog or site you enjoy that posts reviews and politely asking if the editor or creator would be willing to take the time to review and feature you on-line. It takes courage and some careful wording but I would encourage all of you to be bolder in your daily lives with poetry and all things outside of poetry. This week be bold! Ask for a raise (with quantifiable data printed out), ask for that job you’ve applied for instead of waiting for a response, ask for an editor or reader to review your work, this week, be bold!

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

Wednesday, October 13, 2010

Poems Found by Poet Hound
“Vespertina Cognito” by Natasha Tretheway
“Poem For The Friend Who Packed My Husband’s Closet” by Laura Dixon

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

Monday, October 11, 2010

Up and Running

Greetings and Salutations!

Our internet is back up and running, there will be posts again starting on Wednesday so please check back again in a couple of days.

Thanks for dropping by...

Saturday, October 2, 2010

Internet Troubles

Hello Everyone,
I am sitting at a local coffee shop because Vonage and AT&T did not switch everything over within the 24 hours that they had indicated to us and our local AT&T won't be open until Monday. That means that there will be no Monday morning post and depending on how complicated it is to fix there may not be posts further into the week.
Apologies for the inconvenience, I won't be stopping at the local wireless coffee shop very often as I would feel obliged to buy coffee every time I sat down and I just don't have the funds at the moment.

Thanks always for visiting, please keep checking in!

Friday, October 1, 2010

Poetry Tips: Memorize One Poem

I know I’ve put this up in the past but this is one I think is important. There is a poem out there that speaks to you and it is one you need to learn and carry with you in your memory. There will be times when you have trouble putting feelings into words and this poem will bring you comfort or joy.

My personal favorite is by Emily Dickinson and it starts “A poor torn heart, a tattered heart…”

How about you?

Good luck to all who endeavor to memorize, please stop in again next week…

Thursday, September 30, 2010

Barrier Islands Review Open Submissions

Straight from the site:

Barrier Islands Review is also looking for well-written poetry. As with fiction, we're not looking for sentimentality, but well placed emotion doesn't hurt. Poetry may be on any subject and in any format, but special attention will be paid to traditional and invented forms. However, content should never be sacrificed for form. Submit up to six poems for consideration, up to 100 lines each.
All submissions must be previously unpublished. Simultaneous submissions are okay if you tell us when they’ve been published elsewhere. Multiple submissions are okay, too. Please use our handy-dandy submissions manager.

Email submissions will be scowled at and deleted. Snail mail submissions will be used to make paper maché jungle animals.

If your work is selected for publication, we request first digital publication rights along with the right to archive your piece indefinitely. However, pieces may be taken down upon the author’s request. Published works are eligible for the yearly chapbook publication.

At this time we are not a paying market. This may change in the future, depending on readership and donations. However, digital copies will be furnished for all contributors. Those whose work is chosen for the “Best Of” anthology will receive a contributors’ copy.

For more details and to use their submissions manager go to:

Good luck to all who submit, please drop by tomorrow for more PoetryTips…

Wednesday, September 29, 2010

Poems Found By Poet Hound
“Cold Blooded Creatures” by Elinor Wylie Country of Sight
Neil Atkin’s Poems from Lost Country of Sight

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

Tuesday, September 28, 2010

Ed Galing's Sunrise, Sunset

Mr. Galing’s Sunrise, Sunset is published by Peerless Press. Mr. Galing’s Author’s note explains that the title is taken from “Fiddler on the Roof” as it best fits his collection of poems. These poems take in childhood memories and current day reflections of his life. As always, Mr. Galing’s poems are straightforward and communicate exactly what he is trying to say, which I enjoy immensely. I hope you’ll enjoy the small sample of the poems I’ve selected:

Waiting For My Son

it will take him
two hours to get
jack’s deli, where
i am waiting
he lives in

says he can’t get a good corned
beef sandwiches there.

so he is coming to meet me
here, and i sit in a booth
and wait and i am holding an
old album,
full of pictures from the old days.

one is when i bought him his first
bike, oh, how he rode around and
around, waving his hands happily.

it was the first bike he ever had, and
we lived in a housing project, very,
poor, but somehow, i was able to buy
him the bike.

i had never seen a happier boy in my life
i want to show him these pictures when he comes.

so much time has gone by since those days
for one, my wife has died, and
i am alone, and the album is about the
only thing that keeps me thinking young.

my wife once said: why do you keep the
pictures so long?, she couldn’t understand how much it meant to
be able to see the
past, when we were young and happy.

he should be here soon…i keep thinking
now he is seventy years old, and i’m
ninety one… it’s hard to believe so much time
has come and gone… so many tribulations.

wait till he sees this album, i think…
and there he is, just walked in, he sees me

and waves, and for a moment I can’t believe
this is my ten year old son…this is a man…
who is slightly bent over, has a moustache, limps,
and is headed my way…no, there must be a mistake…
but here he is now, smiling and saying, hello, dad,
but the traffic is awful out there… now let’s eat
some of the good cornbeef.

hello son, i reply. be my guest.

i don’t think I will show him the album.
that’s a different story, a different time…

This poem definitely tugs at my heartstrings. Mr. Galing is looking fondly over the photos of his family when they were all young and his son full of energy on his bicycle. When Mr. Galing looks up he sees the transformation of his son’s youth to a man bent over and walking with a limp, he doesn’t have to say his heart aches but you know through his words that it does. It would break his heart to show the album to his son by the time he arrives and so he puts it away to spare himself. This is a poignant poem from the heart.


we didn’t know, really,
how good we had it,
until the day it
came to an end,
it was a long time
when burlesque made us
feel like real men,
when the girls
danced on two left feet,
dressed in gaudy
costumes with plumes and
feathers, but at least
they tried,
and the strip teasers pranced
up and down the stage,
to the staccato beat of the
drum, keeping time with every
beat, tatatata tatata…
shedding a little bit of
clothing every time,
until all of us would
scream, take it off, take
it all off,
to see a naked girl in
the flesh, young, beautiful,
not ashamed of their bodies,
you always bought a candy box
from the candy man who said
there was a prize in every box,
which was a lie,
but we didn’t mind,
part of the fun of bein
alive at this time,
seeing naked girls without
having to beg for it
when burlesque faded
away, like a 45 rpm, it was
a bad day for us,
and now it is gone, and
in its place is a WALMART DRUGS
store, and the only sound
now, is the sound of the cash registers,
and thats the only music
they care about,
and nothing else.

I thought I’d lighten up the mood after the previous poem. This one is a no-holds-barred poem about a man missing the burlesque shows and knowing there is nothing like it anymore. Straightforward and funny, to me anyway, Mr. Galing describes “the good ol’ days” in a way that most men do not. Thanks for the big grin, Mr. Galing.

Jewish Heaven

in the day care center where i
often go for a visit, i see all
kinds of old people, some in wheel
chairs, walkers, staring out at
the world who has treated them so
unkindly… who asked for a broken
down body? who wanted to have
alzheimers? we have nothing to say
about it. we pray, we go to church
or synagogue, hoping that God will
hear our prayers… i know someone who
eats in a jewish deli, about eighty
two years old, who wrings his hands
together and looks up at the ceiling,
praying to someone up there to give
him just one more day of life…
i know what he’s thinking… he knows
that the odds are great that when his
number is up, there is nothing he can
do about it, even if he prays every day.
at least he eats his corned beef sandwich
with relish. and ketchup too. and i
watch this old little man, who prays
in a jewish deli, and then eats like
there is no tomorrow… i hope he likes
corned beef up in heaven, if that is where
he goes someday. as for me, i like a
good bowl of matzo ball soup. and please,
some rye bread too.

This poem makes me smile, too. Mr. Galing observing a fellow diner while they enjoy their respective dishes and witnessing prayers to God for one more day of good food is an entertaining subject for a poem. Think of how many different kinds of people thank God for their meal and then think of this poem. It makes me smile all the more, watching an older man wringing his hands as if to say “please just one more corned beef sandwich before I die” instead of the usual prayers said at mealtime. Mr. Galing is inspired to add his own prayer which is for matzo ball soup instead, with some rye bread, and leaves me smiling at the end. I think I’ll be appreciating my meals even more from now on thanks to this poem.

I hope you enjoy these poems as much as I do. You can snag a copy for yourself for $5.00 from Ed Galing himself. If you are interested, please e-mail me at

I don’t want to give out his mailing address so openly on the internet, so please do e-mail me if you’d like a copy of this chapbook.

You can also read and learn more about Mr. Galing by visiting his blog, run by his friend Doug Holder, at:

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

Monday, September 27, 2010

Tom Clark Blog

Tom Clark is a biographer of poets such as Jack Kerouac and Robert Creeley and writes poems himself on this amazing and beautiful blog at Tom Clark’s “Beyond The Pale.” Check it out at:

*Be careful if you decide to TYPE the above address into your search engine because there is another similar blog, and it’s a different man.

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

Friday, September 24, 2010

Poetry Tips: Incentives

There are days, even weeks or months, in which a complete lack of desire to write occurs. You may have been going strong, you may have been diligent, but then the interest begins to wane. Taking a break is always a good idea but when you feel like writing has become a chore rather than a joy, it may be time to bring in some sort of incentive to keep going.
For example, mine has been treating myself to an Oreo cookie when sitting down to work on my poems when I least feel like it. Other times has been treating myself to window shopping if I spend a designated amount of time working on my writing—even if it is just tweaking already existing poems. Your may be allowing yourself a nap on the weekend after you’ve spent thirty minutes working at your own written words. Perhaps you’ll allow yourself a treat like an Oreo for the days you least feel like writing.

Let me know what incentives you use in the comments section, I’d love to hear about them…

Thanks for dropping in, please stop by again next week…

Thursday, September 23, 2010

Alternating Current Open Submissions

Alternating Current is seeking up to five poems, deadline is November 30th, 2010, for Poiesis Issue #5.

Send these via e-mail, include your contact information and add “Poetry Submission” in the subject line to:

Alternating Current publishes a wide variety of poems so if you have a poem that often has trouble finding a place to go, this is where I’d recommend sending it.

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

Wednesday, September 22, 2010

Poems Found by Poet Hound
“No Picnic” by Julie Marie Wade
“The Owl” by Ange Mlinko

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

Tuesday, September 21, 2010

Lilliput Review Issue #176

This issue is packed with flora and fauna, quiet contemplations, and sentimental poems. Below I am happy to share a few of the issue’s treasures:


Toward Kiyomizu
Crossing Gion
Under moonlit cherry blossoms
This evening, everyone
Passing is beautiful.

By: Yosano Akiko, translated by Dennis Maloney

Isn’t this a beautiful poem? Forget candlelight, we can envision passerby under cherry trees in the fading light of sunset and envy Yosano Akiko’s view.

Summer Fruit – sharing 2 of 4 poems by Lyn Stefenhagens of Osprey, FL:


tart and sweet;
your tongue finds the pit,
your fingers the stem
and both are stained
by a fruit that seemed
prim as a nun, intact.


Each little nub,
dark as your blood,
is chambered like a heart.
If you eat, take great care;
the vine which protects it
is jealous. Beware.

Both poems make me want to run out and buy these fruit. The Cherry is portrayed as sweet and innocent until its inner nature is revealed and the Raspberry is given the importance of being a vessel of life as a heart, so precious that its vine seeks to protect it for its own. Both are wonderful poems. The other two fruit poems are wonderful as well but I want to entice you to get your own copy of this issue to read the other two.

every horizon appears close now
no tree can
taste its own fruit

by: Chris Ellery by San Angela, TX

I envision a Texas sunset (I challenge you to argue that any other sunset is more beautiful than the sunsets in Texas) settling over fruit trees and casting a light so becoming that the poet wishes the fruit tree knew not only how beautiful its fruit looks but how lovely the fruit tastes.

If you enjoyed this sample I urge you to subscribe to Lilliput Review. You can subscribe to SIX issues for a mere $5.00 via Pay Pal at:

The blog itself features poems that Don Wentworth posts from previous issues along with countless other wonderful things, including Issa’s Sunday Service. So please visit the blog and consider a subscription to this tiny and fabulous collection of poems.

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

Monday, September 20, 2010

Moving Poems

When I was visiting the Lilliput Review blog, Issa’s Untidy Hut, there was a feature on Moving Poems and I’m so glad I visited. You will be, too, check out the short films here:

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

Friday, September 17, 2010

Poetry Tips: Tolerance

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…

Thursday, September 16, 2010

Adirondack Review Open Submissions

Straight from the site:

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
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:

Good luck to all who submit! Please stop in tomorrow for more Poetry Tips…

Wednesday, September 15, 2010

Poems Found by Poet Hound
(Cioran’s Nightly Visit” by SJ Fowler
[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:

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

shackle locks
& lips
ham hocks
& hips
in the land of
milk & honey
no runaway
it’s obesity’s
the label’s
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.”

(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:

or via Paypal to

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:

Thanks for clicking in, please stop in for a featured journal…

Friday, September 10, 2010

Poems Found by Poet Hound and Poetry Tips

Having a short week threw me off so here are the Poems Found by Poet Hound in addition to Friday's Poettry Tips:
“Koheleth” by Louis Untermeyer
“Often She’d Drop Into Fathomles” by Rachel Jamison Webster

Poetry Tips: Falling for Fall

I don’t know about you, but I am ready for the Fall weather. The heat, humidity, the long daylight hours have taken their toll on my skin, my hair, and so on. In Florida we are finally waking up to 70-degree weather which warms to the 80’s. This week I want you to write about your anticipation of the Fall. Do you long for apple cider? The change of colors in the leaves? The promise of the big holidays to come such as Halloween, Thanksgiving? There is plenty of material so have fun!

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