themindlessmuse.blogspot.com
The Mind[less] Muse: January 2015
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Kind of a Hurricane Press. Saturday, January 31, 2015. A Poem by John W. Sexton. Arriving at Platform 7. Locked in the ground. Leaf-veins . . . Shiki perceives the folds. For an origami universe. The in-pipe . . . attaches. A gerund to is. Were burdened with souls and God . . . At platform 7 . . . We board the rain. John W. Sexton lives in the Republic of Ireland and is the author of five poetry collections, the most recent being The Offspring of the Moon. And Johnny Coffin School-Dazed. 136 page book), ...
themindlessmuse.blogspot.com
The Mind[less] Muse: Submission Guidelines
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Kind of a Hurricane Press. The Mind[less] Muse invites original and previously unpublished poetry with an experimental. Element to its pages. . . Be over 18 to submit. Send one to three works. Of an email to:. Subject of email: "[author's name] Poetry Submission for The Mind[less] Muse". Please include a third-person author bio with your submission. Publication is on a rolling basis. All authors being notified in advance of such selection for additional publication. What the editor does not want to see:.
themindlessmuse.blogspot.com
The Mind[less] Muse: A Poem by Michael Lee Johnson
http://themindlessmuse.blogspot.com/2015/07/a-poem-by-michael-lee-johnson.html
Kind of a Hurricane Press. Wednesday, July 1, 2015. A Poem by Michael Lee Johnson. I love the walk on the isle. Into your brain cells. I'm rolling heart ache. In a lover's night. I stand on solid ground. You preach to me,. I find you there:. I'm witches and queen.". 136 page book), several chapbooks of poetry, including From Which Place the Morning Rises. And Challenge of Night and Day, and Chicago Poems. He also has over 70 poetry videos on YouTube. Links: http:/ poetryman.mysite.com/.
jellyfishwhispers.com
Jellyfish Whispers: A Poem by Mary L. Westcott
http://www.jellyfishwhispers.com/2015/07/a-poem-by-mary-l-westcott.html
Kind of a Hurricane Press. Thursday, July 16, 2015. A Poem by Mary L. Westcott. Stopping by Ocala Woods, A Decima. The fan palms damp with drops. Of water from the drizzling sky. That rains quietly on ferns and high. Pines at Marshall's Swamp, a stop. To see the marsh, the oak treetops. In a cool place, to sit meditating. Surrounded by tall cypress abating. The whirl of life, the shop-strewn world,. Of commerce, cars and new stores unfurled. Like a million black ants proliferating. A Poem by Alicia Cole.
napalmandnovocain.blogspot.com
Napalm And Novocain: May 2015
http://napalmandnovocain.blogspot.com/2015_05_01_archive.html
Kind of a Hurricane Press. Thursday, May 28, 2015. A Poem by Ralph Monday. The guy ran a better deal than. It was once upon a time. Stuff when we first met. You know the deal. Flowers and chocolate,. In the woods,. Sex like the opening scene. Of a porno classic. Then you were Marilyn Chambers. Before Behind the Green Door. Still the Ivory soap girl,. Snow White, not Mary Magdalene,. Beauty before he became the beast. You got sucked in- like we all do-. Into his black vortex. Will He controlled everything:.
pyrokinection.com
Pyrokinection: A Poem by Barbara Ruth
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Where words come to burn . . . Kind of a Hurricane Press. Friday, June 26, 2015. A Poem by Barbara Ruth. When My Father Died. My father died on Groundhog Day. Too early in the morning. For the rodent to appear. But his shadow casts all around us. Saturn and Mercury retrograde. Both nearly ready to go direct. But Dad couldn't wait, all that week he'd gasped out the tune. Off we go into the wild blue yonder.". He wanted to be a fly-boy again. All around me machines. Speech fails to carry intention.
pyrokinection.com
Pyrokinection: June 2015
http://www.pyrokinection.com/2015_06_01_archive.html
Where words come to burn . . . Kind of a Hurricane Press. Tuesday, June 30, 2015. A Poem by Sy Roth. The Winter of Their Discontent. A Dusty Soleless Army. Petite jury of lead soldiers. Arrayed on their field of battle. A phalanx of them as they. Prepare to march into the trash bag. Silent neighbors tell tales -. Moccasins worn thin,. Pointed roach stoppers from a bygone age,. Oxfords and lost chain names -. Time gobbled them up. Ruins, vestiges of soldiers. Twisted into your shapes. Remnants of an ago.
pyrokinection.com
Pyrokinection: A Poem by Jonel Abellanosa
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Where words come to burn . . . Kind of a Hurricane Press. Friday, June 5, 2015. A Poem by Jonel Abellanosa. Writing During the Homily. Be grateful if you live among tigers. And elephants, if you can listen. To the stream's songs where birds. Forget the sky's theirs. Be thankful. If you wake with the meadows. Where there's no need for words. I see daily our concrete follies. We adorn churches with dying flowers. And water is how we prolong their torture. They wilt while the organist. View my complete prof...
pyrokinection.com
Pyrokinection: Three Poems by Ralph Monday
http://www.pyrokinection.com/2015/06/three-poems-by-ralph-monday.html
Where words come to burn . . . Kind of a Hurricane Press. Tuesday, June 23, 2015. Three Poems by Ralph Monday. Art is the only stay against. Extinction- the birds shucking. Seeds at the feeder know this but ar. Unconcerned, having their own. Trees, too, are aware but spend their. Time shooting out roots in search of. Earthy nutrients, water. The dead are unaware being dead. So let there be art, music, poetry for. Immortality- at least the comfort. The grave can be cheated by temporal. Splattering his bra...
