Survey! For Free!!!

Yep, that’s right – A FREE SURVEY! No cost to you!

;D

Okay, in all seriousness now, I’d love your opinion if you’ve got 1-3 minutes spare?

If you’ve ever read my poetry or fiction in the past I’m hoping you can help me decide what my next release should be. If so, check out this short survey below and grab a free e-book while you’re at it

Survey (via Survey Monkey)

 

Poetry & Place Anthology – Official Release & Launch Week

Poetry and Place Anthology 2015 400x625

It gives us great pleasure to announce the official release of the 2015 Poetry & Place Anthology!

Print and eBook editions are now available through major online retailers and can also be ordered through bookstores. Below, you’ll find a range of purchase links and we hope you’ll be able to support us and the poets within – even sharing this post helps spread the word about the anthology.

Unlike our previous journals, Egg[Poetry] and holland1945, this anthology was always going to be a longer project, both in terms of page count and terms of release schedule. But we believe the collection is stronger for the extra care and time spent.

We’re pleased to say that over the last year and a bit, we and the anthology have survived poor health, local postage price-hikes and distribution delays among all the other minor hiccups any journal faces and we’re beaming on the other side.

Stay tuned to our blogs for launch week, spanning Monday the 2nd – Friday the 6th of May, where we’ll be featuring spoken word recordings from the poets themselves for each of the five days!

Thanks again to everyone who helped us from start to finish! ‘Place’ is such an evocative theme; one that thrills us still and one we hope will enthrall you too when you read the poems we were lucky enough to be sent.

Ashley Capes & Brooke Linford
Editors
April 2016

Purchase Links:

Amazon AU: eBook
Amazon US: Print and eBook
Amazon UK: Print and eBook

Barnes & Noble: Print
Fishpond AU: Print
Angus and Robertson Bookworld AU: Print

 

Edited by Ashley Capes and Brooke Linford, the anthology contains poetry by the following poets:

James Croteau ~ Alan Summers ~ Marisa Fazio ~ Judit Hollos ~ Barbara A Meier ~ Ivy Alvarez ~ Lorin Ford ~ Brenda Saunders ~ Caitlin Thomson ~ Duncan Richardson ~ Elliot Nicely ~ Sandra Simpson ~ Mark Miller ~ Fiona McIIroy ~ Carolyn Gerrish ~ Guy Traiber ~ Frank Russo ~ Irene Wilkie ~ Jacqueline Buswell ~ Colleen Z Burke ~ Sarah Rice ~ Jeff Schiff ~ jenni nixon ~ Jenny Blackford ~ Jill Jones ~ John Stokes ~ Marilynne Thomas Walton ~ Julie Storer ~ Karen Andrews ~ Vanessa Proctor ~ Kevin Gillam ~ Les Wicks ~ Mran-Maree Laing ~ Nikki Carr ~ Jan Napier ~ Rasma Haidri ~ Joyce Joslin Lorenson ~ S.E. Street ~ S. G. Larner ~ SuzAnne C. Cole ~ Tina Schumann ~ J. Todd Hawkins ~ Traudl Tan ~ Valentina Cano ~ Mark William Jackson ~ Faith de Savigné ~ Stu Hatton ~ Chris Lynch ~ Jill McKeowen ~ Stuart Barnes ~ Billy Antonio ~ Jane Downing ~ Nathanael O’Reilly ~ Ben Walter ~ Frances Olive ~ Benjamin Dodds ~ Diana Jamieson ~ Andrew Phillips ~ SB Wright ~ Ron C. Moss ~ A. S. Patric ~ Michele Seminara ~ Jonathan Hadwen ~ Joyce Parkes ~ Anne Elvey ~ Brad Frederiksen ~ Amelia Walker ~ Koraly Dimitriadis ~ Jerome Gagnon ~ Emma Rose Smith ~ Margaret Bradstock ~ Christine Burrows ~ Karen Murphy ~ Monica Carroll ~ Janis Butler Holm ~ Frances Donovan ~ Margaret Owen Ruckert ~ Wes Lee ~ Nina Longfield ~ John Upton ~ Veronica Lake ~ Gabrielle Rowe ~ Robyn Sykes ~ Alison Miller ~ Katarina Boudreaux ~ Alice Allan ~ Nicola Scholes ~ Penny Gibson ~ Jane Williams ~ Simon Hanson

yellows

the city worries. its streets fill like ants before rain. shopping bags shackle. the wind rustles taxis. roads are liquorice chewed, spat into lines. wheels hijack space, stray leaves take on thuggish cigarette butts in gutters. ring-pulls hitchhike. twenty-foot women skyscrape, sell, sell, sell. lights remain tight-lipped. ‘closed’ signs are never circles. glass cools. silver sprinkles the hats, horn notes fight through the ragged tap dance of trams. alleys leak. fast food yellows everything.

 

 

(first collected in between giants in 2012)

China by Bob Perelman

  
China

 
We live on the third world from the sun. Number three. Nobody tells us what to do.

The people who taught us to count were being very kind.

It’s always time to leave.

If it rains, you either have your umbrella or you don’t.

The wind blows your hat off.

The sun rises also. I’d rather the stars didn’t describe us to each other; I’d rather we do it for ourselves.

Run in front of your shadow.

A sister who points to the sky at least once a decade is a good sister.

The landscape is motorized.

The train takes you where it goes.

Bridges among water.

Folks straggling along vast stretches of concrete, heading into the plane.

Don’t forget what your hat and shoes will look like when you are nowhere to be found.

Even the words floating in air make blue shadows.

If it tastes good we eat it.

The leaves are falling. Point things out.

Pick up the right things.

Hey guess what? What? I’ve learned how to talk. Great.

The person whose head was incomplete burst into tears.

As it fell, what could the doll do? Nothing.

Go to sleep.

You look great in shorts. And the flag looks great too.

Everyone enjoyed the explosions.

Time to wake up.

But better get used to dreams.

 

 

Bob Perelman’s famous LANGUAGE poem ‘China’ which I’ve always loved for the massive breadth – so much room for the reader in this one.

a long yesterday

the train clicked over sizzling rails when
I saw you in tall grass

a pink dress

speeding away

I saw you and thought of home

where the border was softer
and where you could slip into a long yesterday

___what a hole a dream leaves

I was a hawk as God’s arrow
my feathers left vapour trails

and far below
in the cobblestone square the shopkeepers smiled
and nodded and rested

and when we met
there was a heroic shiver of butterflies within me

leaves were always fluttering
___– you moved and I moved

the bones in your hand sung beneath flesh

little boy

little boy

territory denial and a man true to his mother

the shutter
is actually arranged to interrupt light
and the apple-worm is a pinkish-white finger

the poster may have said

until
a girl (and her doll) wearing pajamas
was common to find in graves

Holst, Mars (06 August 1945 – present day)

crushing rail, vehicular, and pedestrian traffic
is a semi-autobiographical novel
by another confectioner’s son

struck by a laundry truck
full of dirty atoms
an appetizer popularized in Manhattan
(does an oven mitt have a liver?)

whether you’re looking for an inexpensive derby
or a legacy of bones

the only food colouring in the factory is pink. Walter used it.

(first published in Cottonmouth zine, July 2008)

 

 

Here’s a poem with cut-up elements that I wrote a while back – the LANGUAGE Poets influence might be visible? I’m not sure but here it is, a blast from a few years back 🙂

Cordite ‘Toil’ Subs Close Tomorrow

Subs for Cordite’s Toil issue are closing tomorrow at midnight, so if you haven’t already maybe check your folders for some great poetry you might have on a pretty classic theme.

I’ve thrown my hat in this time (with what I hope are a couple of strong pieces) because the theme really appeals to me – probably because I think all writing is a particular form of toil – whether it’s mental toil or maybe back or wrist pain 🙂

cordite-new