As the street dies down,
The sea hones in on slick stones;
It was always there.
Photography and Haiku by Daniel Williams.
I wept at the cloud-shore when I saw fractures,
fractals of burnt orange and yellow splitting my home,
under a pale blue moon slashed with black scars
far darker than anything but imagination.
She – they – were safe. But home…
that was sheer memory now.
Continue reading “Frontier’s End: A New Poem by George Sandifer-Smith”
I champion the broken things:
Old-town busted concrete aprons
In front of renamed stores.
The quiet, soft, lurking decay
Slowly overcoming the catalogs left
On the floor of the abandoned ranch.
This is the straightening of the line:
The gentle, slow return to mean as
“New” and “improved” fade.
Sink your hand into the loam
the rasp and scrape of buried pebbles, bits
of brick, mortar, snail shells, nails
from a lost house of a lost century
to slide by your hand. Allow
the slugs and earthworms.
Allow the dirt.
Sink to your wrist.
The earth will grant you this, it is heavy
with last night’s rain, the earth is wet and waiting
and you are not an interloper, you
are standing on the bones of your grandparents.
Close your eyes.
Your eyes are in your fingers, in the dark
tunnels your fingers have made,
flushed and throbbing
with the red light of blood
as you slide by other times
and grasp for the remnant you need,
the hard cold thing in the sandy ground
covering your family’s dead,
the dark hard thing that’s waiting to be found:
the last bulb of the purple crocuses
that you’ll replant next fall in cooler earth.
Bio: Brooke Baker Belk has been writing since age 9, when her poem “Cat” was published in her elementary school’s magazine. She still writes about cats. Brooke is interested in English in all its forms; she studied Anglo-Saxon (Old English) in college, and thinks of poetry as a sort of excavation, one in which the bones of our modern language can show up unexpectedly and beautifully. Further thoughts on poetry live at brookebelk.com. Brooke lives in Durham, North Carolina, with her husband and her cats.
The field is gone, buried beneath future
Rubble of convenience and commerce.
Stalks that once drew bird and game
Draw gamers and the budget minded.
It wearies a memory to replace
What is here with what once was.
Natural overcome, replaced with synthetic.
Creation’s groaning is nearly audible.
I have no right to chatter,
It was a borrowed field.
The farmer passed on his debts.
Someone must pay. So the land and memory do.
Bio: Mark Hutton lives with his family in the mountains of Tennessee (USA). He is a writer, poet, avid blogger (intheperpetualruins.com) and clergyman. His writing ranges from fiction to theology/spirituality, farms and food to justice and conservation. Most days he can be found writing and consuming too much coffee or out in the woods.
What experience is created when the textual and the visual function in sync? ’Alchemy of Water’, a collaborative project between poets Tony Curtis and Grahame Davies and photographers Mari Owen and Carl Ryan, published in 2013 by Gomer Press, strongly informs the concept behind this project as a whole. The book lays both elements side by side. Each concise, imagistic poem is a direct reaction to the picture reproduced on its corresponding page. This allows the reader clear insight into their interaction, a dialogue between the Welsh landscape and two of its prolific writers. Here, Curtis senses the pull of national identity in the movement of the south Wales tide:
Dawn over Swansea Bay:
the wet sand is filling with sky.
The boat’s chains are a rich and heavy necklace.
Those rust-ochre links will tie you to this place
whatever the rise of the tide,
whatever the blue-grey weather brings,
whenever the sea sings in these chains.
The sparseness of Curtis’ language, the use of sibilance and its subsequent musicality, intimately crafts a broader semantic resonance to the image. Each poem presents how emotional content can be derived from the landscape and how it has been pictured, also acknowledging the continual draw of its specifics and uniqueness. The interaction between word and image, in any manifestation, is what this project aims to continue to explore.
in the long lines out
mired in engine oil and mayonnaise
hidden beneath cheap buckets of sand
left to my own devices, I dance
on street corners for heavy metal roses and fat men
I share drinks sin verguenzas de olvidados
I learn the nuances of silence
how words can be left out to form
a more perfect skyline
and everything is in love in the absence of a witness
flies mating midair
squirrels and pigeons furiously chasing each other
force or yearning
too much or not enough
like the winds at the end of summer
on hungrier days, when the cool rains come
I ache and creak and groan like pregnant trees
I sink into the yellow wildflowers that smell of spiced pie crusts
I roll my tongue in yearning like honey
and mingle with the dry fallen leaves
like the winds at the end of summer
Bio: Irene Zimmerman has been writing and wandering in the moonlight for a very long time. She is both a native and continuing resident of Brooklyn, NY, where she works as a Licensed Real Estate Salesperson. Surprising as it may seem, Irene is completely in love with her career.
Other than being alone in the woods for days at a time, she enjoys American Football, Folktales, Potatoes and Tango.
This project maintains an interdisciplinary approach, interested in all matters textual and visual. Poetry is a specialism, but we will also be looking to feature travel/life writing, critical pieces and articles, and some short fiction. We have a current interest in textual work being presented in conjunction with photography or a sequence of photographs, but will also accept individual pieces of writing and photography in their own right. Alongside this we would be pleased to hear what informs the practitioner’s work and their interests. This content will be gathered with a view to producing a regular e-zine.
Work which has been previously published or is currently under consideration elsewhere will be accepted at this stage. The author will retain full rights to their work. The project is seeking to be a space where individuals can show case their work and ideas freely.
With this in mind, all submissions will receive an individual response, as we hope to enter into dialogue with new or up and coming writers and photographers, and will subsequently offer feedback and discussion of their work.
We run a further blog at: http://long-exposure.tumblr.com/
Submissions and other enquiries can be sent to: firstname.lastname@example.org. Please use ‘Long Exposure Submission’ as your subject, and send work either in the body of the e-mail or as an attachment. We are looking for a maximum of 6 poems or photographs or 2 to 3 prose pieces per submission, although photography submissions may be negotiable if the work is an extended sequence. You can also include a short bio detailing your work to date if you wish.
We look forward to reading and viewing your masterpieces.