Tag Archives: poetry

LiteraryMary is Back

There are a lot of really cool things going on this month, too.

First off is the premier of ‘Don’t Call Me Plath – Twelve Outstanding Women of the Small Press‘.

Our Ping Pong for the month is between Father Luke and Jenifer.

Another important announcement is our second call for submissions.

Lastly, LiteraryMary has a new Facebook page.

Enjoy!


It’s Time to Pre-Order the LiteraryMary Print Journal

The LiteraryMary print journal is now available for pre-order for $10.00 plus shipping, which is a discount of two dollars off what we will be offering it for when we release it on January first.   You can read about the first issue under the Issues tab on the home page, and you can purchase it here.  We will be printing a limited amount, so if you are planning to pick one up, I highly recommend that you reserve a copy as soon as possible.


Read Me In Nibble

nibble, a poetry magazine

will be publishing two of my pieces in their upcoming issue #4

and one in issue #5.

I urge you to check them out.

They got a good thing goin’.


There’s Not Much Rage in a Lower Case ‘i’

Well coiffed women roll
their fluid hips through the darkened
room in expensive dresses
where expressionless faces
hold prop drinks
in one hand and clap
the best they can
against plastic cups
with the other.

There are poems
about people who write poems
or publish poems
or how no one publishes
what they should.

There are poems
about sex
or drugs
or doing drugs
while having sex
or fucking
and doing drugs.

One woman’s
entire collection of paintings
is made
of semen
and menstrual blood.

The pasty skinned
man with yellow fingernails
and expensive suit took
black and white photos
of women in bondage
and homeless people,
and politicians walking
and a police man
eating a hot dog.

The hardwood floors
are immaculate
and slick
but the toilet
is the dirtiest
I’ve ever seen.

I hike my skirt
and go
behind the house
in the dark
with the cat
instead.


I Promise

I haven’t showered.
It’s too warm in here
and I’m
a little sweaty.
There are so many things
to do
today, but your
words
ask me to stay
put.

One more cup of coffee
and three more
poems
and then
I’ll take a shower.


Announcing the Writers and Artists of the First Ever LiteraryMary Print Journal!!!

Without further ado, and in no particular order except that which the alphabet gives us:

Poetry:

justin.barrett

Michael Berton

J. Bradley

Emily Brink

Janet Butler

Harry Calhoun

Thomas Cannon

Kelly Davio

Janann Dawkins

William Doreski

Danny Fahey

Father Luke

Glenda Fralin

Joseph Goosey

Michael Henson

Mark Kessel

David Kowalczyk

Carol Parris Krauss

Cathy Piper-Lally

Brian Maurer

J.R. MacLean

Colin McGuire

David McLean

Clayton Michaels

Chris Miller

Bob Minnery

Carl Palmer

J.R. Pearson

Joseph Reich

Noel Sloboda

Alex Stolis

Elizabeth Switaj

Joseph Vega

Trent Watkins

Fiction:

Meghan Adams

Jason Jones

Donald Mangum

Chris Miller

Photography:

Aimee Alvarez

justin.barrett

Isabella Chiang

Mike Coombes

Samantha Doll

Brian Maurer

Special Art Feature:

Jocelyne Desforges

The journal will be out on January 1st to celebrate the second anniversary of LiteraryMary.com.  No doubt you may recognize some of these names.  Others, I’m sure, will become familiar to you in the future as competition was fierce.  Pre-ordering information will be available soon.


Come Over to the Dark Side

LiteraryMary, journal of the beautiful, unusual and eclectic, will be publishing our first ever print issue in January of 2009, in celebration of the second anniversary of our steadily growing website of the same name. We are very excited about what this year’s journal has to offer. There will be a wide range of Fiction and Poetry featuring many talented authors. There will also be a mix of photography and art work. Our submission period is currently closed but will re-open in June. Look for prices, pre-order information and example links coming soon.

LiteraryMary Writing Forums is not your mother’s workshopping website. Well, many of us are mothers, but we aren’t your mother. We are also, kof, not a ladies auxiliary tea society. So what is LiteraryMary? We are a website dedicated to helping writers and artists of all skill levels grow and sharpen their skills on the long and often discouraging road to publication. We are also here to provide a place for writers and artists to hang out with other like-minded people. Our staff is knowledgeable and approachable. We have forums for poetry, fiction, nonfiction, screenplay and stage, visual art and audio. We also have forums which are hidden from non-members and search engines to protect your first rights. As a member, you are completely in control of your account and work. They can be deleted by you at any time without our permission. You work belongs to you, not us.

Maybe you’re suffering from writer’s block. That’s okay. We also have debate forums, contests, prompts and forums for socializing and fun. Rant, whine, make some friends, waste some time. It’s all good with us. We would love to pull you in for a great big soothing, slightly sweaty, possibly frightening group hug. On that note, keep in mind that if you are easily offended, our forums are perhaps not the place for you. We are a brick house. Mighty mighty, just lettin’ it all hang out.

Still with us? Good. Come inside, and make yourself at home. We’re glad you made it here.

http://www.literarymary.com/


Comme Il Faut

The moon never falls in love, or obsesses
on her personal needs, nor does she entertain
her own hopes or dreams, but bears
the prayers of the earthbound with grace
and uncompromising consistency.

She must be lonely, silver starlet
of the witching hour, voyeur of the vulnerable
upon her pedestal, never clutched
to kiss a lover’s lips, never lulled
by the rocking of hip against hip.

Her existence, only to bear witness.

The stars provide some company, winking
and twinkling, but all sparkle and fade.
The planets are pleasant, but distant
and condescending; planets predominant
over moons where they’re concerned.

Oh there’s work to be done, and she does it
well, turning tide and werewolf
at will while inspiring poets
to ode her more often than she could hope
to recall, though a few she knows by heart.

The moon endures a life accursed;
adored, but helpless to love in return.

 

 


We All Swing Both Ways, Guy – nowedon’t

They had a reel to reel
and a velvet couch,
a deck
with a gazebo
and a hot tub
and a large Dodge van
they’d named
The Blue Box’.

We took a trip
to the coast.  He played
Michael Jackson

and Christopher Cross
very loud. When we
got to where we were going
he announced:
The sunshine arrives
when The Blue Box
Gets There!’
slick
as a coked up disk jockey.
My Mom’s sister wore
flowing night
gowns.

My mom
wore torn underpants
and flannel.  At night
I would wake to get a drink
of water and find her
on the couch, cigarette
tip glowing red
hot in the dark.

The reel to reel
fascinated me, but at the time
I thought if I spoke
into the stereo speakers
playing the basketball game
on the radio, my parents
could hear me where
the were, watching
the Portland Trail Blazers.

My mom would visit
her sister while
I lounged on the floor
listening to middle aged
early 80’s music,
watching the tape
grow smaller
on one side
and larger
on the other.

They were the first
family I knew
of who didn’t smoke
in the house.


Skidding Through The Mud Incognito

From the erbacce-press website:

In the Summer of 2008 Richard Wink, the inspirational editor of Gloom Cupboard held a poetry competition, it was free to enter and the submissions flooded in. After months of wading through entries from all over the world the judges voted this poet as the one most worthy of winning first prize; and that first prize was the publication of this startling collection of highly original poems. You owe it to yourself to see why we unanimously chose this poet and you can find out more about Jenifer by clicking here… to purchase her chapbook click on the cover or if you use PayPal add it to your orange shopping cart.

Skidding Through the Mud Incognito

The blood came when I was still young;
about the same time our neighbor
mentioned how well I
was filling out my bathing suit.
My father didn’t notice the blood
or the neighbor’s comments.
My mother talked with me about men-
struation and taught me how to insert
a tampon so I could still climb
the apple tree in the backyard
with my brothers to watch drive-in
movies from the top and ride bikes
with the neighborhood boys,
skidding through the mud incognito.

What this means, is that you can purchase a book of my poems titled ‘Skidding Through the Mud Incognito’ from the erbacce-press website. All you have to do is click on the link up there and follow the directions. It’s better than donating to charity because I need it more. I have four kids, after all. blink. blink.

Absolut Cunt

(Thanks to Father Luke for the image)