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Tuesday, March 31
Mark McDonnell remembers a meeting
by
Charles Christian
on Tue 31 Mar 2009 11:00 AM BST
Meeting Here we are on this sloping ground amongst the pine trees. Low cloud ingests the mountain tops. You, oblivious to the scree and the roots, the rivulets and the mud, in your usual black town shoes and a raincoat. In my waterproofs and walking boots I feel almost protective of you; short, white-haired. I smelled your pipe amongst the pines, espied you amongst the mountain ash. I’m glad you came over to talk. I suppose you know North Wales? Came out from Liverpool in your youth to tackle the Horseshoe, Crib Gogh? I glance sideways at you with your hands in your raincoat pockets, white stubble on your chin. In recent years we have hugged more. You are talking of Owen Glyndwr, Edward I building castles to keep the Welsh down. Your epic, from terraced house to Oxford First is engrained in me. It’s how we always talk. History is always our currency. Anything more direct would be labelled “maudlin”. People don’t love; they are “fond of each other”. Your smooth soles slip a little on the wet stones by the lake. I go to take your arm. That head with the same hair as mine, between my head and my son’s. Your other sons and grandsons at your sides and at your feet to guide you from the altar to the earth. I suppose it’s the only time you carry your father or grandfather. When you carried me proud up on your shoulders your wavy brown hair was a horse’s mane. You would easily have convinced me, once, that there were bears in these woods. We would have stepped silently and been hunters together. * Mark McDonnell worked in Miami, Barcelona and Cambridge in (legal) drugs. Write on planes and trains; love languages (Chinese at the moment). Monday, March 30
Two prose poems by Katrina Naomi
by
Charles Christian
on Mon 30 Mar 2009 06:24 PM BST
For A A wasn’t one of the first, just one of the first to speak. A couldn’t say all of the words. I wasn’t a judge, A wouldn’t have one of those, but I believed the parts of A’s story she would allow. Permission is uppermost. Her country is R, this doesn’t really matter. What matters is that it happened to her. A told me. I wrote it down. A’s eyes were wet, A kept telling what she could. One of the soldiers used his rifle. This is happening, still. ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ Elephant Facts An elephant’s trunk has the greatest sensitivity, the greatest flexibility. I have seen an elephant pick up threads of silk with its trunk, swoon with the scent. Threads from a young girl’s sari, scarlet they were, like her welts after the last beating from her father. Her father was well known, the chief of mahouts. Three weeks later, that same elephant threw the chief of mahouts, calmly trod on each of his fingers. Scarlet. * Katrina Naomi's pamphlet Lunch at the Elephant & Castle (2008) is available from Templar Poetry - www.templarpoetry.co.uk - and she is working on a first full length collection due to be published by Templar Poetry in October. Sunday, March 29
News round-up
by
Charles Christian
on Sun 29 Mar 2009 07:15 PM BST
Here's a quick round-up of IS&T contributor-related news and developments...
* The latest issue (No.#3) of the Clueless Collective online magazine is out now and includes (it sez here) 'a new pullout Sunday paper style full colour art supplement, an opportunity to receive your very own slither of night and some poetry as well ' – all free. Click here for details www.cluelesscollective.co.uk * If you are interested in the relationship between poetics and language in art, with a focus on text in performance and sound art, then check out the second Text Festival which takes place in Bury (UK) in May and features exhibitions and commissions from some of the world’s leading practitioners including US visual poet Geof Huth, US Poet Ron Silliman and artist Jenny Holzer as well as emerging artists. The festival opens on 30th April, with exhibitions running through until July. For more details visit www.textfestival.com * New chapbook: Frostbitten by Mark Walton (48pp, US$10, ISBN 978-0-9811844-0-1) – this is the first entry in the Epic Rites Press workers in blood chapbook series and now available for purchase from www.epicrites.org Mark Walton is the winner of the 2008 London Slam! Championship and this collection of 23 poems is Mark’s debut volume of poetry. Samples from Frostbitten are available at www.frostbittenpoetry.com * Finally – after some nightmare encounters with production near-disasters, regular IS&T contributor John Irvine has been able to announce the availability of Anomalous Appetites 2009 - an anthology of illustrated speculative poetry – we'll let John take over from here... "Never before has an anthology like this been attempted. Many publishers spurn poetry, citing a lack of interest from the buying reader. However, it has long been my desire to offer poets in the speculative genre a platform to display their talents. I looked for subtle rather than brutal when selecting the final contributions, trying to avoid the ‘Hollywood’ style of hack and slash employed by most other magazines and anthologies in the genre. I wanted to offer the reader a vastly different experience. "As the poems for inclusion were selected, they were despatched to artists to interpret under the same plan… subtle rather than gory. The results of my desire have exceeded my wildest expectations. I am utterly indebted to the poets and artists without whom there would have been no anthology at all. I was also fortunate to secure the services of Australian graphic designer/artist/cartoonist Dave Freeman to whom I owe a huge debt of gratitude. "For those readers who like their horror and sci fi sautéed slowly with garlic and served up on fine china, then this anthology is for you. Do not expect axe hacking, explosions, bug eyed monsters or crudeness. Do expect fine and subtle poetry augmented by exquisite art… every single poem is illustrated. This is a collector’s anthology, created for those who are a little more discerning in their speculative tastes. We offer two hundred and nine pages of the best speculative poetry and art you will ever see from poets and artists from all corners of this creative planet. "I hope that you will find as much enjoyment in reading this book as Dave and I have had in collating and publishing it." John Irvine, Editor Dave Freeman, Design/art editor The book may be purchased by visiting the following link: www.lulu.com/content/3236199 (ISBN: 978-1-4092-5973-2) Saturday, March 28
Jack Kerouac reads some haiku
by
Charles Christian
on Sat 28 Mar 2009 05:23 PM GMT
Here's a treat from the archives, a recording of Jack Kerouac reading some of his haiku with a background accompaniment of jazz riffs. It all sounds a little corny now but back then (the recording must be late 1950s) this was the epitome of being part of the cool Beat Generation scene. It's also an early example of what we'd now call performance poetry – and it's a valiant attempt to add a little extra to a reading of haiku, which otherwise tend to end way before an audience has got into them.
Now available on Twitter
by
Charles Christian
on Sat 28 Mar 2009 03:54 PM GMT
 Starting this coming Monday, I'm going to 'tweeting' on the Twitter 'micro-blogging' service. If you know what it is, then 'good' as I don't need to explain it you. If you don't know what it is... bit of a problem but try it anyway as it costs nothing. I'll be mainly posting about the journalism day job but I'll also be covering the writing world generally, plus events (literature/spoken word & otherwise), plus – hopefully – some human interest stuff. You can 'follow' me – Charles Christian – at http://twitter.com/FourthEstate There is also a link available, showing my latest tweets, at the foot of the righthand column. Friday, March 27
Some flash fiction for a Friday by Vanessa Gebbie
by
Charles Christian
on Fri 27 Mar 2009 12:27 PM GMT
Beer, wallet
You left your wallet. I will ring you, let you know. And no, I won’t do anything silly with the cards. I won’t even look for the photo of me you used to keep in the side pocket. I expect it’s gone. I need a drink. I expect I’ll go to the fridge, get one of your beers. Maybe not. You know, I remember the first time I knew I loved you. And the first time you knew it too. We were in a car, a few others. Can’t remember who, now, there was just you, to my right, your thigh, some tape playing, your leg jigging. I wanted to put my hand on your thigh, Feel you. Just that. I needed cash. You pulled up at this cash point you knew. Empty street, then me on the pavement with my card, the door open. The music playing. I put my card in the machine, waited, listened to the music. If I turned round, I’d see the car. You. The others. Laughing. The door open, my place empty. Pin number, it said. I tapped. 2648. Nothing. I tapped again, 4826. Nothing. I knew those were the right numbers. The last two made a year that meant something. 2684. Nothing. You turned off the music. My breathing was fast. A footstep. A hand on my shoulder. “Jen? Problems?” I turned. I couldn’t look up. There was a thread pulled on your jumper. “I forgot my number,” I said. Then your hand under my chin, and you, bending down, making me look at you. The streetlight shone in my eyes, blinding me. You took out your wallet. Same one. “Silly,” you said. Your voice, shaking. * Vanessa Gebbie writes poetry and prose, and runs an online forum called Fiction Workhose – you can find out more about her work here www.vanessagebbie.com + www.vanessagebbiesnews.blogspot.com Thursday, March 26
Anne Brooke is worrying about Shakespeare
by
Charles Christian
on Thu 26 Mar 2009 10:57 AM GMT
Anne Brooke says she's started worrying about Shakespeare and upside-down haikus. Here's one...
A Shakespeare precis: Man is born, and dies. Only love remains or the memory of sin. * Anne Brooke has recently been surprised by an early spring, which drew her attention from her virtual hideaway of www.annebrooke.com – temporarily. Wednesday, March 25
New concrete poetry by Chris Major
by
Charles Christian
on Wed 25 Mar 2009 08:41 PM GMT
With the new Peter Postlethwaite movie The Age of Stupid currently portraying an apocalyptic representation of what could happen to Planet Earth in just 50 years time if climate control is not kept in check now, IS&T's resident concrete poet Chris Major is looking at the fate of Polar Bears...
 Tuesday, March 24
Newamba issues a warning
by
Charles Christian
on Tue 24 Mar 2009 04:51 PM GMT
Punch You in the Face The next time I see you I’m going to punch you in the face Don’t ask me why I’m not really sure It could be that thing you said to me a long time ago That I forgot and you can’t recall But, nonetheless, it pissed me off Maybe it’s because you like that song My Humps by the Black Eyed Peas Maybe it’s because you talk too much during movies Or possibly it pertains to the peculiar sound you make when you eat Perhaps it’s the way you look in a hat Perhaps it’s the things you say to my cat (I’m glad she always hisses and scratches you) Whatever it is I’m going to punch you in the face And I’ll record it and upload it to the internet, too So you and everyone Will know and will see That you got punched in the face Punched in the face By me * Newamba Flamingo was born and raised on a chicken farm in the Florida Keys by a suicidal cult of transvestite prostitutes who dressed up in gorilla suits and played loud Polka music from distorted speakers at all hours of the night. After escaping the chicken farm, he was taken hostage by an Elvis impersonator that forced him at gunpoint to write poetry. He was later able to flee from the Elvis impersonator and now wanders the streets of South Beach in a purple tutu, spitting out bizarre poems as he pleases. His work has been published and featured at 10K Poets, BadWriter, NC Lowbrow, MySpace, EveryPoet.Net, PoemHunter, and various toilet stalls across Florida. Monday, March 23
Roberta Swetlow asks about submission guidelines + haiku
by
Charles Christian
on Mon 23 Mar 2009 03:36 PM GMT
IS&T contributor Roberta Swetlow recently emailed in to ask about our submission guidelines. "Must all submissions to IS&T," she asked, "be previously unpublished material? Could I submit a piece that has been published in the past, to which I hold copyright? If the publication in which the work previously appeared has vanished from cyber or paper space, does that make a difference?"
So here is our answer, which hopefully clarifies the position... We know a lot of other magazines, webzines and competition organizers get very up-tight and precious about all this 'previously unpublished' schlemozzle. We don't care. If something is good (and obviously if the author still retains copyright – please, never, ever sign away your copyright) we'll use it. All we take is a 'bare licence' to reproduce a poem or story. Besides, if a piece of writing is only ever used once (or, as Roberta Swetlow puts it – see below – is damned to obscurity) – whether online or offline – how is anyone ever going to hear about a new writer and their work? The one caveat we do make is no simultaneous submission please (and that includes work also being submitted to competitions) if only because it causes us unnecessary aggro when, having accepted a piece, the author then gets it accepted elsewhere in one of those 'previously unpublished' outfits and wants to unsubmit it to us – or else even asks us to delete from the webzine a piece we have already published. Given that most readers receive an acceptance or rejection note within 24 hours, it is hardly a case of us unreasonably freezing their creative endeavours. Not content with raising this pertinent question, Roberta went on to craft a haiku sequence that neatly sums up the plight of writers caught out this way... Previous Publication So many poems Written when publication Seemed a distant dream Accepted – so proud! Journal will showcase my work Assumption turns trap Submission guidelines: Never known a published page Virgin works only. Other poems prisoned In pages of journals Now non-existent. Words scream silently: Previously published, Damned to obscurity. |
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