Time elapses we are flowers closing drowsy lipid heads pink underbellies, coloring innocent silvery dark winking in, winking out tracing lost lines within your curves language made of open mouths sleep, why sleep? When warm day light spills through closed curtains in gentle intrude, glimmering against the russet within you. Time elapses our breathing is […]
Indie Blu(e) Publishing will be releasing an Anthology of Lesbian Poets later in 2019. Themes of this Anthology will include identity, coming out, relationship, family, love, loss, and sensuality (rather than graphic erotica.) The deadline for submissions is June 16, 2019. Submissions can be sent directly to firstname.lastname@example.org and should be accompanied by a brief biography not to exceed 75 words.
The maximum number of submissions per writer is FIVE.
Writing should be submitted as a Word or PDF attachment. If you choose to submit a poetry meme, the meme must be accompanied by the text in a Word or PDF version.
Artwork for the Anthology is also being accepted and must be able to be reproduced clearly in black and white.
Questions? Contact Candice Daquin at email@example.com.
Thank you for your interest.
One of the hardest things to do when reviewing a book is to read other reviews. I typically don’t because it can be intimidating or distracting. However, I was curious to know what others had thought of this series of books and interestingly more has been written about Sarah’s Earthen Witch Novels series than most […]
If you only consider buying one poetry book this month, then I urge you to consider this one. I had the honor of reviewing it and I can attest to it being a superb collection of poetry from an extremely talented author.
Sudden Denouement Publishing is proud to announce the release of Christine E. Ray’s book Composition of a Woman. “Poet Christine Ray’s first printed collection of poetry, Composition of a Woman (Sudden Denouement Press, 2018) is a striking, fearless foray into the psyche of womanhood, both highly relatable and intensely personal for female readers and achingly candid and fascinating […]
I was going through the list of who I am following on WordPress with a view of clearing out people who had stopped writing on their blog. It’s sad. All the good intentions we have, all the excellent names for blogs, the ideas, the effort, where do they go?
Interestingly; I noticed that many of the people who had depression and/or feminism in their title line were no longer writing. I wondered, is that a coincidence or do things that matter but are not popular (depression/feminism) die out?
Whilst I admire those who continue a blog for years, writing faithfully every day/week/month I would also say that many of the BEST writers are those who start blogs and never continue them. I wonder where they are now? I wonder if they are okay? It seems sad to see their potential and ideas lost.
When I was sick I didn’t write for a few months here-and-there but people knew I was still around. I wonder how long it takes to not be around and not be noticed if you are not around, I wonder how long it takes to vanish or feel you have vanished?
Upon joining WP I met with a small group of writers/poets/thinkers and they were my ‘first’ friends here. What is interesting is of those, some are still my dearest friends and some completely vanished and this after professing love and life-long friendship. Of those who vanished, either into their own egos or others, they were the loudest at proclaiming such undying friendship. Had I known then, they were just saying it, I wouldn’t have invested as much time in cultivating those friendships but not everyone is like that, usually only those who speak the loudest (and I wonder why that is?).
At times I am tempted to ask some of those who never keep in touch, what happened? Where’s the love? ha ha ha! Because they were SO VERY effusive and then like a raisin in the sun they dried up and went onto greener pastures … I guess that’s the whim of the budding author for you! Yeah I met a few of those too. I learned from that fickelty though. No matter what happens, I’ll never feel too self-important for those who were there for me.
Going through the list is like looking back on the years I have written on WP and all the people I have met. I feel so lucky to have met those people, so many of them I really count as TRUE friends and I care deeply for them. Others I may not be literal friends with but I admire what they do and who they are, very, very much. We are basically, a wonderful community and I feel richer for being here.
Let’s spare a moment for those who are not here. In our WP world we have lost people. Those who have died. Those who have become too sick to write. Those who are too depressed to write. Those who are not here and though we do not know why, they are gone. Let’s think about those people we met when we first began here, the faces and voices of those who are not here now for a myriad of reasons. I for one, do not forget them. It’s a bit like first-love, you don’t easily forget your first.
Thank you to Rita, Eric, Tony, Monique, Derick and Sabrina, some of the very ‘first tribe’ who welcomed me and whom I had here on WP, for still being around and still sending your sunshine my way regularly.
Oh, and if this teaches me anything, it is to appreciate someone whilst they are here and to try to always keep writing through life’s ups and downs and appreciate the value of people coming into your life and holding you to the light.
For Paul and Cynthia. We remember you.
Played for keeps.
Competition was her muse
She wrote her first book
Won the acalades she sought
Changed her face in surgeons chair
In the pages of her, I read quiet despair
A pervasive loneliness in loose leafed characters
They screamed on her behalf, when she could only
You, today, walking, lost
With large red dog
And small foot tattoo
You had the same shape
An edge to your corners, as sharp as spite
A quietude and a silence, sadness set firm in your eyes.
I wanted to ask
Or reveal what I already knew
In just having met, the corners and the distance
No match for feeling, across tow path
And into that personal space, where you laid your sorrow out
I smiled a great smile
Can a smile impart a hundred thoughts?
You passed, and the wetness of your loss
Felt like brief rain on my arm
Two strangers and a dog
It was as if it hadn’t happened
You reminded me so much of Patricia
And her emptiness, written throughout each story
You see … we recognize each other
As much as for who we are not, as our similarities
Strange bedfellows of perverse and solitary, mearly trying to tred water.
If I’d spoken more, I would have asked;
Do you walk through the high grass to see the butterflies?
Do you feel the sun before it gets too hot?
Will we walk in the same direction and in time perhaps …
Talk of how we came to choose, empty steps, over laughter
You never know
They could be everything, or perpetual stranger
A moment, and no more
Or the rest of your life.
Instead of pulling away, if you reached into them
Like leaves blown, will fall, one on top, one below
A path of many