THE SEMINARY OFFERED A FULL REFUND • by Chuck Von Nordheim

“Let’s marinate your God,” she said,

“in this epidemic of gin

until the peaberry bitterness

of his chess player strategy

for my personal salvation

becomes as listless as sea-star

tides washing a coral orchard.”

 

He’d known a girl with pink yarn tied

around her ponytail before

but she was his first with a tattoo.

 


Chuck Von Nordheim often thinks about the work of Joseph Campbell. His work has also recently appeared in Twisted Tongue #15.


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Posted on January 27, 2012 in Humour/Satire, Poems
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STUDY OF A FOAM PAINTBRUSH • by Gwen Tarbet

No leisure to dream,
aspire to great things,
beyond cheap grey foam on a dowel.

 

Not an art brush crafted from mink or sable,
and hardwood,
patiently lounging in a paint-splattered jar.

 

Each open plastic cell is functional, disposable,
rough and ready to do the job;
one shot only.


Gwen Tarbet recently won Okanagan College’s three-hour writing contest with her story “The Hudson’s Bay Blanket” which is going to be published in the spring of 2012. She has five children, two dogs, two cats and a wonderful husband, none of whom take her at all seriously – which is good.


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Posted on January 26, 2012 in Literary, Poems
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EMILY DICKINSON’S DOG • by Pippa Little

‘a dog as large as myself that my father bought me’

 

 

I rode in the dust

to her white door,

given over

soul to soul

on first sight.

I laid my huge head across her lap.

 

Longest afternoons,

as sunlight

slips away,

I dream:

her hand be-stirs my ear. I am

each breath between her words.

 


Pippa Little has three collections, all of which can be ordered online direct from the presses :The Spar Box (Vane Women Press, vanewomen.co.uk), Foray (Biscuit Press, info@biscuitpublishing.com) and The Snow Globe (Red Squirrel Press, redsquirrelpress.com). Her next collection, Overwintering, from Oxford Poets/Carcanet, comes out on October 25th 2012 and is available to pre-order from Carcanet.co.uk.

She is Scots but now lives in Northumberland, North East England. She will be reading at the StAnza Poetry Festival in her home town, St Andrews, Fife, in mid-March this year.

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Posted on January 25, 2012 in Literary, Poems
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PERSPECTIVE • by Jonathan Pinnock

We’re grown adults,

aren’t we? Grown up enough

to watch the rolling news

and learn of earthquakes,

tsunamis and revolutions,

 

grown up enough

not to behave like some

six-year-old weeping

over the shoebox burial

of her hamster –

 

Stop all the

bright pink plastic

My Little Pony

alarm clocks!

 

– and yet we are

inconsolable

after putting down

the phone. Nothing

will ever be the same:

we are diminished.

 

The microchip

does not lie: the cat

they brought in

was ours.

 


Jonathan Pinnock has had quite a lot of stuff published here and there and has even won a prize or two. His novel, “Mrs Darcy versus the Aliens” was published by Proxima Books in either the Autumn or the Fall of 2011, depending on your linguistic preference.


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Posted on January 24, 2012 in Literary, Poems
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Special Announcement: Lifting Up Veronica

The serialization of K.C. Ball’s Lifting Up Veronica begins today at Every Day Novels. The first five chapters are free, so why not give it a try? Serialized novels just might be a really nice thing to add to your daily reading.

 

Check it out HERE.

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Posted on January 23, 2012 in Site News
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GREY PASSAGES • by John Lander

I don’t know the names of plants
which makes it difficult to describe
scenes encountered outside:
glistened boughs and wet leaf confetti
slight fair afternoons renewed after deluge;
grassy paths can’t amply portray a delicate conflict
amid patches of blue and sandy-blonde strands.


I don’t know the names of birds
so the best I can do is tell you
about the balance of a hollow pear
on a pencil-thin branch under siege
from fitful gusts; but I’ve left out
the tail, the way it twitches as a cat’s
ears or a TV screen stuck between signals.


The names of clouds escape me, dissipate
into grey passages in my heavy textbook
of thoughts; I see the sun-yellow highlight
bright on the crest of the word to express
this lock of wool tethered to an invisible line
and lured across the crayon sky – remarkable
amongst counterparts: wafted, soon forgotten.


John Lander hopes you enjoyed this poem. He also hopes you enjoy the next one.


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Posted on January 23, 2012 in Other, Poems
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Every Day Inspirations

How about a “how-to” poem?

We all know how to do all kinds of things. How to cook oatmeal. How to jump-start a car. How to drive a stick-shift. How to tie our shoes. How to avoid perfume sample sprays at the shopping mall. How to [fill in your special talent here].

Take one of those every day things and write how to do it. The trick is to dig deeper and make it matter in a broader sense. Make it show how much you love someone else or how much you fear losing something.  You get the idea.

Some how-to poems to look up:

How to Make Rhubarb Wine by Ted Kooser

What You Should Know to be a Poet by Gary Snyder

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Posted on January 23, 2012 in Every Day Inspiration
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HAIR WASHED IN BEER • by Maire Morrissey-Cummins

My mother was gentle,
as she washed my hair in beer,
rolled it in curlers
for Sunday best.
 

It was summer,
she sat on the windowsill
chatted with the neighbours.
She wore her rose lipstick smile,
her grey dress with pink polka dots
and crisp white collar.
She was all things
beautiful.
 

I cannot recall when her rose smile faded,
her face nettled with anger,
gnarled by drink,
her chain smoking,
the bag of blue pills.
 

Our dinner splattered the lino,
She lunged with the ladle,
slipped and fell,
sliding in the thick slimy mess.
Writhing with anger,
hatred burned from her eyes
as she thrashed all around her.
I ran, with nowhere to go,
hid for hours behind the Beech tree,
rocking my sister for warmth.
 

An old woman now,
she remembers her life
solely with regret.
I remember
her rose lipstick smile.
 


Maire Morrissey-Cummins is new to writing and enjoy poetry. She has lived in Holland for many years and now lives between her home in Wicklow, Ireland and Trier, Germany. She is married with two adult children. Maire was born in Tramore, Co. Waterford.


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Posted on January 22, 2012 in Other, Poems
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PAVOR NOCTURNUS • by Mark Danowsky

In the dream there is a skull I know
from a Georgia O’Keefe painting, but seeing it
a storm draws in overhead.


I walk a few steps, maybe the distance
of a marathon—and come to Bukowski
on the rear deck of a rancher. He’s operating
a two-person saw without assistance.


The poet-monster works as if in a fever
eyes bulging, teeth clenched
—a mad dog grimace.


I put one foot behind the other until
I’m back at Borders, welcomed by a crimson banner


90% OFF — GOING OUT OF BUSINESS


Another sign informs me It’s all true.


I locate a librarian because the store is also
the public library. He directs me
to a giant of a woman in a 3-piece suit
who will not sell me “The Trial”
as the author himself is arriving that night
for a release party, to sign books, and as usual
I am not invited.





Mark Danowsky is a writer of poetry, short fiction, and book reviews. He resides in Northwest Philadelphia and works for a private detective agency in the Philadelphia area. His work has appeared in Every Day Poets, Short, Fast and Deadly, and Imitation Fruit. He has reviewed books for NewPages.com, ForeWord Reviews and Gently Read Literature. He reads for Moonshot Magazine and First City Review.


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Posted on January 21, 2012 in Literary, Poems
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OPENING NIGHT • by Bernie Barnes

it happens again…
stretch, breathe, loosen, limber
set is ready, props in place
talk to the walls


cards, flowers, chocolates
pep talks and last words
countdown to curtain
coffee with whisky


give your best
play the crowd
listen for laughs
bows and applause


don the suit
ascend the lounge
shake hands
salutations

Thanks for coming
So glad you enjoyed it
It’s a great script
We worked so hard


agents, producers, casting calls
options, careers, directions
stories, advice, questions
talk, drink, talk, eat, talk, drink


get away
back to my barstool
a moment of rest
opening’s behind me


nothing is left now
but the hangover
and four more weeks
of the same


Bernie Barnes is a little boy dreaming of the stars.


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Posted on January 20, 2012 in Literary, Poems
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