Heidi Mae Niska and Julie Gard reflect on their prose poem and photography collaboration set in northern Minnesota.
Heidi Mae Niska and Julie Gard reflect on their prose poem and photography collaboration set in northern Minnesota.
In this new poem, Lesley Burt explores the work of Van Gogh, discovering in it the possibility of a world ‘unclaimed by names’.
Long Exposure Magazine has now been publishing for 2 years!
During this time the magazine has been fortunate enough to publish a fantastic range of poetry, photography, visual art and critical work from around the world. Many thanks to each contributor and reader who has been involved so far.
Issue 4 will add sharp and engaging short fiction to this output, featuring more writers and artists than any previous issue.
These are exciting times as we look to expand the magazine and above all promote high-quality creative work and those who are producing it.
Long Exposure Magazine is now offering feedback and guidance on a selection of your poetry. For an introductory fee of £10 you will receive rigorous feedback and editorial advice on a set of up to 5 poems through e-mail correspondence.
Editor Daniel Williams holds undergraduate and postgraduate degrees in literature and creative writing and has published poetry widely on-line and in print, including at Cadaverine, Ink, Sweat, And Tears, and Envoi. Alongside his work in editing and publishing, he has experience of teaching creative writing in a variety of contexts, from local community to university level.
Make your payment below and the editor will contact you to receive your work and begin your tutoring session. Any enquiries can be sent to firstname.lastname@example.org.
Further opportunities at Long Exposure Magazine.
Long Exposure is looking to put together a list of artists to work with frequently who can respond to the writing published in the magazine, through painting/illustration, photography and other visual art forms, to be featured alongside the creative writing pieces in each issue. This is an opportunity for regular publication and promotion. If you are interested in this project please contact email@example.com with a brief introduction and a sample of your work or links to some examples. You can see the type of work the magazine has published so far here.
For the next issue, Long Exposure is opening up submissions to fiction, specifically very short fiction of 700 words or less. In previous issues we explored traditional short forms such as the haiku (Issue 2), and how an economy of language and sharpness of observation can heighten the impact on the reader by using a minimum of words.
Definitions for this type of fiction are various, and as such our criteria are broad. Whether your pieces lean towards a fluid and poetic style or want to focus on delivering an engaging narrative in a tight space, we would love to read your work.
As usual we are open to poetry submissions on any style or theme, but with a particular interest in the Ekphrastic genre or work which combines text and image, as well as to photography and art work and collaborative projects between writers and artists.
See previous issues for the type of work we have published to date.
If you have an idea for an essay or article, particularly on the relationship between creative writing and the visual arts, contemporary poetry and poetics, or the arts in education and society, contact the author to discuss.
All submissions and enquiries to: firstname.lastname@example.org
We look forward to hearing from you!
The new edition of Long Exposure Magazine is now available!
Featuring an international selection of new creative writing, photography and visual art.
Access it here:
We hurtle into a long tunnel:
windows reveal nothing beyond
reflections: people, red upholstery,
and windows reflecting the reflected.
In a magazine left on the table
among coffee rings, NASA reports
a rocket: to launch a moon crew,
using a single five-segment booster.
Astronauts will build lunar outposts,
pave the way for journeys to Mars;
its south pole will provide water, ice
and abundant sunlight for power.
The steward sways along the aisle
rattling refreshments on a trolley;
passengers drink, read, doze; trust
steel lines, solid earth, unseen driver.
We shoot out of blackness – where
blocks of flats loom higher than
street lamps and trees’ winter skeletons –
into the light of a yellow moon.
First the stars
blocked in canary yellow
the stars are made of glass
next the mountains
deckled cool blue, an organic horizon
the mountains hiss of fear
next the desert
dunes ruched in ochre red shadows
the desert is the story of landscape
then a pitched tent – last onto the paper
solid night silhouette
secure enough to withstand a storm
where we recline on foreign bedding and listen in
to the unprinted white spaces and
ink the future.
For more of Jane’s work keep updated with Long Exposure Magazine, Issue 3, forthcoming.
(After Mark Doty)
Splendid in rows like the silvery dead
your afterlife now lit in amber
as if each caught fire then dived
into waves of crushed ice.
Your summer skin glows oiled bronze
a tiger-burnt patina of experience:
the shimmer of youthful flash
quietened by an old gold currency;
this is the whole fish, no etiolated fillet
slit from a bodybag –
the meat needs strong company
in a sweet glisten of horseradish.
The biggest fish catches my eye:
its white stare from a hollow socket
half-winks at me to unwrap its silk
chevrons, strip it to the nub.
I want its dark flesh: its eye,
drowning in dry air, wants mine.
For more of Stephen Elves’ work look out for the release of Long Exposure Magazine, Issue 3.
Window on the Garden
Memory, my dear Cecily, is the diary that we all carry about with us.
– Oscar Wilde
The coal tit is being purposefully
its terse flight from hedge
to bike handlebar,
and seemingly off
only to be back on the bike briefly.
So many false promises
of departure, playing
with finality like a conifer seed
in its nippy beak, it revels
in its mastery of reprieve
with flippant swerves,
in a black bow tie and wing collar,
each drawn-out ending,
a sunflower seed
raided from a forgotten hoard.
with three toes facing forward,
and one backward –
able to cling to the vertical
without falling out
of the picture,
you are impossible to frame. This urge
to cup you like a soft bollock and squeeze,
is wrong, in a nutshell
but your pithy nature;
the impossibility of boiling down
spirit into sweetmeat
makes a play of thwarted possession:
agog to count
the freckles on your eggs
in their nest in a mouse hole,
to pop one in my mouth
and keep it forever, far from teeth.
This sky ceiling has been kindly donated
by Patricia Madden Cancer Trust
Look up sister! Six blue squares,
but only one is clear, as cirrus clouds
permanently gather in the other five.
Look at the poster sister! A man
manages colour-coded strings,
so his gown doesn’t gape.
Look down sister! Flip
through a torn magazine.
See the ads: Breast Feeding is Best;
How to Enhance a Small Cleavage.
Look this nurse straight in the eye sister!
Smile. What are the odds you’re next?
Attention sister! All mammography patients
please remove deodorant or talcum powder
from the upper half of your body.
Look sister! If you have sensitive
breasts, this may hurt. Look up sister!
Outside, a black sky hangs open,
the moon impersonates a breast.
Family history told through
various sofas, hairstyles,
decorated pine trees;
children changing heights
to stand beside Santa in
different stores and towns;
one where, laughing, we all
strum inflatable guitars
brought home from Memphis.
One where, on the day,
I could not see that my mother
already looked like a ghost.
My son stands before me, facing away,
his shirt back straight, his posture
I am afraid that when he turns to
face me, after dropping his rock in a
bucket half-full of water,
he will be
and I will regret those
millennia in between.
A drop of water strikes a rock;
I see just how quickly the
but the substance beneath stays
And I am grateful for love.
Maybe now you can see the stars
leaning bright-tipped above your head.
And perhaps you notice how,
if you stitch them together,
they become glowing jump ropes,
the clouds as children
leaping and yodeling over arc shadows in a twilit park.
Sometimes we have to learn to love other things
and nature is what sutures,
placing a palm on the middle of our back,
a bit like a demanding nurse
gently prodding, pushing and pulling us up on our feet
so that we might begin again.
Sometimes we have to choose others
which really just means loving ourselves first and foremost.
This is no rebuke, no judgment. There’s enough of that in the world.
But, Dear Son,
the noose and the blade are no one’s friend,
please give them up for once.
If you can’t do it alone,
at least take my hand.
Good. Thank you.
Up we go now, off this bed and out that door
and into the night,
cool air on our skins,
crickets and stars and smell of weed grass everywhere.
Ah, through a cloud scarf
the moon has just this second peeked out,
perfectly pale and round.
Do you see it? Yes?
Won’t you take a step and stand where I’m standing?
Why don’t you get a really good look
and, if you think you can,
raise your voice and tell her
how beautiful she is.
Click an image to enlarge.
Mark Blickley is a widely published author of fiction, non-fiction, drama and poetry. His most recent book is ‘Sacred Misfits” (Red Hen Press) and his latest play, “Beauty Knows No Pain,” opens in November at NYC’s 13th Street Rep Theater. He is a proud member of the Dramatists Guild and PEN American Center.
Frie J. Jacobs is a Belgian visual artist, poet and composer. His 2015 credits include exhibiting at the international Art Festival Watou in Belgium, and the Brussels International Underground Poetry Festival at WIELS (one of the leading institutions for contemporary art in Europe). Along with participation in numerous group and solo art shows, he co-curated Project O, a roofless independent art project. Jacobs also composes music and soundscapes for video, and is a member of the international artist collective, Urban Dialogues.
Photography by Dairena Ní Chinnéide
Like shedding skin
fragments are packed up
shards of sanctuary disappear
the cottage dishes are washed
bags negotiate themselves
in a form of farewell.
I sit in this artists retreat
observing beauty peeking out of a Lidil’s bag
almost completed paintings
of a desire
as transitory as the brushstroke
the intentional randomness
of a splattered and empty easel.
Colours echo more than sound
or the potential of memory
from the artistry within us
swallowed gulps of gaiety
a whole moon on a shoulder
the palette of parting
still wet in cracks of stone.
Flying the Coop
in this narrow
I do not inhabit,
conjuring my nest.
by dim light
in my bed,
delves in, I live alone,
The year is like a snake,
crawling through a field
tortuously toward its end.
Clouds like trucks roll
across the sky.
Stars burn in the void
of a black night, only to die.
My toenails are as long
as sabers. My hair
falls into my eyes.
Writing a poem is harder
than climbing a mountain,
or drinking from a dry fountain.
My face looks as old
as the Yellow River.
Only two months ago,
I felt like I was twenty-five,
when you were still alive.
For our next issue, Long Exposure Magazine is seeking photography or visual art based on the theme of ‘Movement’. The representation of movement, such as the play of light, the movement of animals or the actions of figures, have been a long standing preoccupation for the techniques of creative writing and the visual arts. The theme is open to new possibilities and can be interpreted in any way you choose.
A selected image or art work will then be chosen to feature as the front cover of Long Exposure Issue 3. Submissions to: email@example.com
As always, we look forward to viewing your work!
To view the type of work we have featured to date, read our previous issues here.
For the latest updates on the progress of the magazine and to view new content, support Long Exposure on social media:
Facebook: Long Exposure Magazine
Insatiable Carrot by Judy Kendall (Cinnamon Press, 2015)
For many writers, the garden, as a natural environment partly shaped by the individual’s personality, has maintained a considerable attraction. W.H Auden writes in his poem ‘Moon Landing’, ‘…give me a watered, lively garden, remote from blatherers/about the New’, asserting a preference for the tangible, domestic space in place of man’s progress into new territory. Composed in the latter part of the poet’s life, the simplicity of looking out on a stretch of tended land he could call his own represented a retreat from the accelerated intensity of the modern world. It also provided a security Auden had rarely been afforded, a sense of belonging.
Judy Kendall, in turn, employs her poetry to articulate a connection with the land, how the tactile and physical work of maintaining a garden, and the attention this requires, can be channelled into poetry, and may in fact embody the same characteristics.
The poems form observations of the continuous processes of life happening outside ourselves, from the slow progress of growing vegetables to the shriek of an owl at night. Subsequently, many examples draw from features of the Haiku form, with a focus on individual moments of action or stillness. Movement and a sense of the dynamic are key throughout, with the text moving fluidly over the page, resisting constraints or predictability. Through this, Kendall communicates elements both of her gardening and writing processes, and the essential relationship between them. The division between human activity and the natural world, and the poet’s resistance to this, is succinctly but strikingly probed in the line:
‘garden house divide
as thin as that?’
Throughout there are experiments which offer new challenges to the reader in this immensely varied collection, displaying Kendall’s exploration into the use of visual poetry and typography, and increasing the reader’s engagement, as they become involved in bringing its nuances to the surface. There is a huge creative energy and vibrancy behind the work, and its range is broad, spanning lyric poems, such as traditional sonnets, one or two-line fragments, arrangements with a variety of fonts, and examples where the text is effectively double exposed in appearance, as in ‘A little hedge-cutting?’, where this innovation potentially mimics the vibration of operating an electric hedge trimmer.
As a result, the poems are ambitious in their desire not only to represent experience in language, but to communicate some of the fundamental elements of the activity or object observed through maximising the poems potential, and what can be achieved with the written word on the page. The text works to provide more immediate and multi-sensory data of the experience than a simple re-telling.
In this way the poems, through their innovation, suggest a return to the source, a quest to assist us in remembering our place in the interconnected and co-dependent environments we inhabit.
A selection of Judy Kendall’s work is included in Long Exposure Issue 2, you can access it here.
Purchase a copy of ‘Insatiable Carrot’ here.
you don’t have to be extreme
to be content,
other forces feed
they build on what has been
and mingle with consent,
then roam the rivers we invent-
using nature and nurture’s seed
to make it grow.
unshade your grey, reclusive hours
and play your made, profusive flowers
all the way:
don’t let regret upset your dream-
it’s all it’s light has been
and make what it empowers
but hark at me!
what i’m sowing
day to day
and yet, i know it’s coming,
comes from going
out of me-
what i don’t make, i borrow-
come and see.
Bio: Strider Marcus Jones is a poet, law graduate and ex civil servant from Salford/Hinckley, England, with proud Celtic roots in Ireland and Wales. A member of The Poetry Society, his five published books of poetry are modern, traditional, mythical, sometimes erotic, surreal and metaphysical http//www.lulu.com/spotlight/stridermarcusjones1. He is a maverick, moving between forests, mountains and cities, playing his saxophone and clarinet in warm solitude. His poetry has been published in numerous journals and anthologies to date.
Bio: an’ya is the haigo (haiku nom de plume) of Andja Petrovic. an’ya loosely translates to “a peaceful light in the moonless night.”
She has won world-class awards and honors for her haiku and other verse forms from Japan, Canada, New Zealand, Australia, Germany, India, the UK, Brazil, and the Balkans.
Her work has been published in numerous international publications and anthologies. She and has been editor-in-chief of haigaonline, Moonset, the Tanka Society of America newsletter and the Haiku Society of America (HSA) 2011 anthology and is a winner of the HSA Merit Book Award. She is a founder and President of the Oregon Haiku and Tanka Society.
Submissions are now open for our third issue!
So far, the magazine has been fortunate enough to engage with and publish fascinating collaborations between creative writing and the visual arts, and we continue our interest in this type of project, whatever media is involved. We are always open to new projects being brought to our attention, and if you feel your work may be suitable for publication in the magazine or would like to enquire further then don’t hesitate to contact the main e-mail address at: firstname.lastname@example.org.
Alongside direct collaboration between art forms, the magazine continues to publish striking and innovative contemporary poetry, photography and other visual art in its own right, from practitioners at any stage of their careers. You can view our general submissions guidelines here: https://longexposuremagazine.com/submissions/
Both previous issues can be accessed online and free of charge, so if you have an interest in this field and would like to see the style and range of previously published work, we would greatly appreciate your support in reading Long Exposure’s output to date.
We look forward to receiving your work, and to continuing to explore the possibilities for contemporary arts.
To keep up to date with the progress of the magazine and our activities, follow Long Exposure on social media:
Facebook: Long Exposure Magazine
The great wheel of Dharma
drums rend the earth and heavens
mendicants pray for alms
pigeons feed on scattered corn
visitors click endless images
Cosmic mandalas adorn windows
handicrafts, Bodhisatvas in all avatars
Monks meditate in maroon robes.
Wearing a gleaming white robe
I sit at the centre
safeguarding Buddha’s relics
My eyes —
benevolent and wise
bless the cosmos
heal the diseased
ease the suffering.
Bio: Abhay K. is an Indian poet-diplomat. He is the author of two memoirs and five collections of poems. He has been awarded the SAARC Literary Award 2013 and nominated for the Pushcart Prize 2013. His poems have appeared in leading literary journals in India, Russia, UK, and USA and have been translated into Irish, Russian, Italian, Nepali, Hindi and Chinese. His most recent collection of poems The Seduction of Delhi was published by Bloomsbury India. He is the editor of CAPITALS — an anthology on the national capital cities of the world. The SAARC Song penned by him has paved way towards an official SAARC Anthem. His call for an official Earth Anthem has been lauded by UNESCO and supported by the Habitat for Humanity. http://www.abhayk.com.
This poem forms part of a larger sequence about various heritage sites in Kathmandu, Nepal.
Image Credit: Boudhanath Stupa – Kathmandu, Nepal. Source: http://www.mysticxpressions.com
The new edition of Long Exposure Magazine is ready! Featuring an internationally diverse range of creative work in a variety of forms. Access it here: http://joom.ag/g6Ob
Please enjoy the issue and share!
Support Long Exposure on social media:
Facebook: Long Exposure Magazine
The edition is focused on a variety of eastern poetic and artistic forms, and features the collaborative work of Ron Rosenstock and Gabriel Rosenstock, combining haiku and photography, a sequence based on the art of Hiroshige, several examples of Haiga art work, visual poetry and more.
Keep updated here at the Long Exposure website, or follow the project on social media:
Facebook: Long Exposure Magazine
At the Water’s Edge
after Cezanne, “At the Water’s Edge” (c. 1890)
Resisting the hot wind, this house at the water’s edge
retreats beneath the whir of trees.
Their dry brushstrokes are blue like water or sky
and green as the end of spring.
But mostly they are the colors
of canvas, earth, and parched leaves.
The sky is a haze of brushstrokes, a wash of turpentine,
smoke to the water’s edge.
Hills loom behind the house;
they are mirages made of thinned paint.
More buildings appear, shimmers in the haze,
reflections in the water.
No swimmer, no boat breaks the surface,
more mirror for land and sky than home for fish and weeds.
But the house’s heart is dark and sweet
with sage and lavender, with the scent of grass and lake
protecting its guests from the hot wind, the drought,
and the smoke to the water’s edge.
Birch Trees in North Carolina
Seen from the window of the slow train south,
the needle-thin trunks glint
the way the odd, white threads do
in a quilt of blues, browns, and greens.
I do not recognize all of these trees,
but I know the birch.
Its peeled bark is snow clinging to spring.
Its leaves are wind chimes.
Its roots clutch at the stone wall
between long-gone pasture and forest.
I see this birch in Carolina,
not where I expected it,
but here among the rows
of oak and pine, beside
pools of water, part of
this quilt of sky, earth, and vine.
Bio: Marianne Szlyk is a professor at Montgomery College and the editor of The Song Is… Recently, she published her first chapbook, Listening to Electric Cambodia, Looking at Trees of Heaven, with Kind of a Hurricane Press: http://barometricpressures.blogspot.com/2014/10/listening-to-electric-cambodia-looking.html Her poems have appeared in a variety of online and print venues, including ken*again, Of/with, bird’s thumb, and several anthologies by Kind of a Hurricane Press. She hopes that you will consider sending work to her magazine. For more information about the spring/summer contests, see this link: http://thesongis.blogspot.com/2015/04/contests-for-springsummer.html
The cicadas already
conduct the sound of the day.
Early conversation in a garden
with olive trees and a view
towards the Mediterranean.
The optimism you had –
being an old man
with crippling arthritis –
for life, health,
the beauty and vigour it could afford.
Inside the house your studio
with armchair, easel,
brushes and frames,
the quiet edges of the room.
The hushed strokes of passing
time, the depth of eye
as figures walk by
flooded in red-golden light,
the sensuality touching
a disclosure of heat.
Bio: Byron Beynon lives in Swansea. His work has appeared in several publications including Kentucky Review, Planet, The Independent, Poetry Wales, The Blue Moon Literary and Art Review (California) and the human rights anthology In Protest (University of London and Keats House Poets). He has given talks about “Poetry and the Mirror of Art”, how paintings have been used to inspire writers. Collections include Cuffs (Rack Press), Human Shores (Lapwing Publications, Belfast) and The Echoing Coastline (Agenda Editions).
Image: ‘The Farm at Les Collettes’, by Auguste Renoir. Date: 1908-1914. Oil on canvas. Property of The Metropolitan Museum of Art.