Come and See: A New Poem by Marcus Jones

 

you don’t have to be extreme
to be content,
other forces feed
this show-
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
from today.

but hark at me!
not knowing
what i’m sowing
day to day
deliberately-
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.

Zen Stories: A Sequence by Daniel Williams

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What is the answer
To that ancient problem?
Rain against glass,

The gutter’s low-
throated street song;
listen.

*
Every evening, he could measure progress
by the packed snow collected
under his boot-soles.

Finally, he unlaced them, loosening
stiff leather to stark flesh,
accepting the cold.

*
Razor slip- the water clouding red
like a prophecy; he traces the torn skin,
recognising himself in the mirror.

Conclusion follows question, indistinctly;
at the door, she shares the wound
like an old master.

*

In the house of words
he had assembled,
he wrote the sign

for ‘permanence’
as the house
trembled.

*

Starlings clustered
against the pier’s taut
skeleton,

the sea grinding shoreward,
its salt-tang resumed like a vow;
all one movement.

Bio: Daniel Williams is a poet and writer, and founding editor of Long Exposure Magazine.

Four Tanka-Art Pieces, by Andja Petrovic

TTR1

TTR3

TTR6

TTR5

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.”

an’ya is cattails Principal editor for the United Haiku and Tanka Society (UHTS), and was voted one of the top ten haiku poets in the world by her peers in 2011.

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.

Long Exposure Magazine, Issue 3: Call for Submissions

Long Exposure Logo

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: editor@longexposuremagazine.com.
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:

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Twitter: @longexposuremag

Boudhanath: A New Poem by Abhay K

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The great wheel of Dharma
spins incessantly
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

Long Exposure Magazine, Issue 2: Digital Release

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

Long Exposure Cover 2

Please enjoy the issue and share!

Support Long Exposure on social media:

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Twitter: @longexposuremagazine

Long Exposure Magazine, Issue 2, Upcoming Release

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The second issue of Long Exposure Magazine will be made available online from this Friday, 19th June.

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

Twitter: @longexposuremagazine

Two Poems by Marianne Szlyk

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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

Renoir at Les Collettes: A New Poem by Byron Beynon

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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.

Haiku in Translation, by Gabriel Rosenstock and Mariko Sumikura

lantern

foirfe amach is amach –
ciúnas an laindéir
ar a chrúca

utterly perfect –
the silence of a lantern
on its hook

Gabriel Rosenstock
(Composition in Irish Gaelic and English)

まこと見事な―
フックにかかった
ランプの沈黙

Mariko Sumikura
(Japanese Translation)

Negro Quarter, Tupelo, Mississippi, March 1936: A New Poem by William Doreski

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Negro Quarter, Tupelo, Mississippi, March 1936

The barn-slab of board and batten
must be a house: tin roof propped
above the porch, four over four
window, wood shingles clumsy
as a mouthful of store-bought teeth.
The whole thing slants to the left,

toward a courthouse white against white sky.
The slim black man in neat black suit
leaning against the building’s tilt
holds the entire scene together.
Beyond him, a small clapboard shack,
a few twists of wire, and the long wall

well beyond which the courthouse looms.
But where is the black man looking?
What’s around the corner and why
doesn’t he acknowledge the camera,
an eight by ten Deardorff, pointed
squarely between his shoulder blades?

You’d think anyone in Tupelo
in 1936 would sense
the threat, the long lens piercing
otherwise impassable distance
to center this man in a city
he may have little cause to love.

Bio: William Doreski’s work has appeared in various online and print journals as well as in several collections, most recentlyThe Suburbs of Atlantis (AA Press, 2013). This poem is part of a larger sequence based on the photography of Walker Evans. To read more of William Doreski’s work keep updated on the progress of the forthcoming issue:

Facebook: Long Exposure Magazine

Twitter: @longexposuremag

Long Exposure Cover

Provisional cover for the upcoming issue, featuring Haiga art work by Gabriel Rosenstock and Ion Codrescu. Submissions for our Eastern poetic forms specialism as well as other textual and visual work remain open. See our submissions guidelines for further details.

Parental Love: A New Poem by Julia Putzke

Parental Love

My mother has two
monikers for her firstborn.
Some days, she will call out:
“Oh, my dots?” My Daughts.
Most days, it’s “my somping!”
My something.

Please don’t ask where
these names came.
We fall, or should I say I fall
into laughter every time
I hear the second one.

My father is the same,
except the names repeat
the same word: twink.
The first is Twink. Shine.
Twinkle. Shine bright.

Twinklepants.
This last one
I’ve taken to mean
she shines bright enough
to take the blues out
of her worn jeans.
Or, she makes him smile
without second thought.

Regardless the hilarity,
no one would think
to look for a star
wearing pants,
happening to be the daughts
of somping parents,
burning the night sky
alive.

Bio: Julia Putzke lives in Georgia. Her work has previously appeared in The Refection and The Larcenist.

Long Exposure Magazine, Issue 2: Call For Submissions

The Haiku Edition

The Haiku has become a widely used daily exercise to keep us working with language, its syllabics offering the challenge of condensing and paring back an observation or train of thought to its essentials.
It is also a form which connects with common place or spontaneous observations, such as those on a daily commute, and lends itself to capturing them sharply and without superfluous description.
It is this ability to capture that Long Exposure wishes to explore for the next edition.
We will be looking for submissions of traditional Japanese forms such as Haiku, Haibun, Haiga, and Tanka, and other textual or visual work which shares its philosophy.

Alongside this the magazine will also include the usual range of new writing, photography and visual art across a broad range of styles and themes; submissions of all are welcome.

View our submissions guidelines for further details.

All submissions to: editor@longexposuremagazine.com

Long Exposure Magazine: Issue 1

Long Exposure Cover

It has been a longer process than expected, but the first full digital edition of Long Exposure Magazine is nearing release. Many thanks to our contributors both for their submissions and their patience. Response to the project has been incredibly strong; it was highly gratifying to see the number of writers and readers with interests in this field who felt it merits further exploration. Due to the volume of submissions the editing process has taken significant time, and we have already begun to structure the content for our second issue. If you haven’t been contacted about featuring in the first issue, expect to hear from us in the coming weeks about inclusion in the second.

Continue to follow our updates here and on social media for news of the full release and any related events, and again, many thanks for your continued support.

Thirteen Ways of Looking at a Self Portrait: A New Poem by Eric Nicholson

Self Portrait in Hell

I cannot find myself
in a threatening form with bird’s head. I stand
naked on a beach.

I was of two selves
and met my other self walking
towards me down a familiar street.

Art’s created from heart’s blood.
I paint Self Portrait in Hell,
a blood vessel bursts in my eye.

My relationship with Tulla ends
in violence and I lose a finger
joint from my left hand.

I do not know which to prefer,
the truth and anguish of art,
or the anguish of each day.

I’m sitting by a window,
my disfigured ‘hand of destiny’
clearly framed.

Another portrait in another room,
the space behind me shining through
my physical body.
Eyes of fire glow in the window pane.

I smell the resin
from the tall pines in the forests
of my childhood.

Each moment the door shuts.

I carefully measure the slow decline
into infirmity and old age.
I’m staying at Asgardstrand Hotel.

I walk with my hazel stick among
the violets and primroses in the perfumed
brilliance of spring.

The sunshine glances
off the south face
of Hardangerfjord. My mountain of mankind
rumbles in the distance.

Now the waterfall’s rushing
in my ears.

Bio: Eric Nicholson is now retired. He worked as an ESOL teacher and in other fields of education. Now in his retirement he enjoys countryside conservation, writing and walking. His work has previously been published in www.neutronsprotons.com,www.literaryorphans.org and www.emptysink.com. He blogs on http://www.erikleo.wordpress.com

More of Eric’s work is forthcoming in Long Exposure, Issue 1.

Image: Self Portrait in Hell by Edvard Munch, oil on canvas, 1903. Property of the Munch Museum, Oslo, Norway.

Durer’s Great Piece of Turf by Karen Stanley

It sits in your studio, in water
this piece of another world,
this slice of not-so-still life
you dug with your spade.

It confuses the bees
this island among paint pots
and brushes; they linger
in its leaves, while your fingers
faithfully trace its living lines,
feverishly catching its essence
before its greenness falls
in on itself and dies.

It is a mini kingdom, supplanted.
Its small subjects, marooned,
look out on an ocean
of sunlit plaster and pine.

You wet your brush with its sea,
colouring in grey outlines;
steeping soul into the paper
replica – setting its sky on fire.

Continue reading “Durer’s Great Piece of Turf by Karen Stanley”

Night in the City: A New Poem by James Bell

you can almost hear a siren’s distant howl
his cigarette is fresh and will take a while to smoke –
she will stand and wait for an answer

their window is closed against the night air,
noise and car fumes – they prefer their own temperatures
and aromas, half undressed or dressed

her perfume stronger; she wears a black skirt
and bra for heat rather than warmth – the red mask
hooked on the window frame is for a perspective

to see through any party masquerade
that has been or is yet to be – while
both sets of eyes are locked together

they see each other with the same expression – question
whether resolution will arrive before dawn

Bio: James Bell has published two poetry collections, the just vanished place (2008) and fishing for beginners (2010), both from tall-lighthouse. He lives in Brittany where he contributes articles and photography to an English language journal and continues to publish poems nationally and internationally. His recent print appearances include Tears In The Fence, Elbow Room, The Journal, Shearsman, The Stony Thursday Book, Under the Radar and Upstairs at Du Roc.

Two Poems by Lesley Burt

Edward Hopper

The label on my suitcase …

… reminds me I do not belong.
Outside, sky darkens over a line
of could-be-anywhere mountains.

Electric light casts shadows around
plain walls, plain carpet, plain curtains;
and the chair with no cushion

where I drop my wrap; perch
on the king-size bed, careful
not to rumple its dull coverlet;

turn sideways from my Buick
parked by the window. Wait.
Anticipate that knock at the door.

(After ‘Western Motel’, Edward Hopper, 1957, Yale University Art Gallery)

Continue reading “Two Poems by Lesley Burt”

Souvenir: A New Poem by Carissa Faulk

This pocket mirror
from across the Pacific
closes like a clam
to hide its pearly finger-prints.
It fears it will forget
the green rice fields,
rice cakes, burnt rice-water,
jumbled, jingling, jabbering
street markets
and song birds.
It is caged now,
and so it closes.
When I pry it open it reflects
only my own face back;
it does not sing anymore.

Bio: A native of the Los Angeles area, Carissa is currently earning a Bachelors degree in English at California Lutheran University in Thousand Oaks, California. She hopes to teach junior high English while continuing her writing career. Her work has appeared in FIVE Poetry Magazine and the Larcenist Literary Magazine. She was also the third place winner of the Blue Mountain Arts 22nd Annual Poetry Prize.

Remembrance, 1960: A New Poem by Elizabeth Lee

Aged 15, I was chosen with others,
all worthy, serious and well mannered,
to accompany the harvest produce to
a hospital for ex servicemen –
The Star and Garter, Richmond Hill.
A girls’ school with a thousand pupils
must have given a lot of marrows and such –
I don’t remember much of that.
We’re taken to a ward to meet a few.
Long rows of beds down either side
neat and white as false teeth,
arranged with military precision,
impersonal.
Men, bedridden since the 1940s
stare up the ward with dead eyes
at the apparition not seen for 15 years
of young women in school uniform.
The nurses, all angels
with starched wings clipped to their hair
tell us that some men have been here
since the ’14 – ‘18 War.
My shocked brain photographed the scene.
In a trench of shyness
I cannot get over the top
into no man’s land –
the space between us.
Next year, I did not volunteer.

Part of Long Exposure’s ‘Looking Back’ project, for National Poetry Day.

Bio: Elizabeth Lee’s poetry is varied. She is a member of a writing work shop run at Aberystwyth University’s Art Centre, and occasionally reads at its ‘Chinwag’ open mic event.

Light Above the Stratosphere: A New Poem by Shaina Clingempeel

In our dampened lake-side spot,
hidden by a ceiling of ashen pines,
we stuffed ourselves inside our souls
to fall in love. In a bed of earth, of ice,
and frozen land, we found a chilled delirium,
light above the stratosphere, propelling upward,
unhinged within a hell we called our heaven.
With coffee mugs colder than our limbs,
we sat in wait for the earth to shatter
so we could make it. For shards
of glass from that fishbowl cave
to soar through the air,
come frighteningly close,
and evade us.

Continue reading “Light Above the Stratosphere: A New Poem by Shaina Clingempeel”

Yes, Thank you Ensign: A New Poem by Liam Bell

Yes

I found myself on a Friday, to no avail, found out I used to be Pope in a past life and a French working woman in another. I felt no different. All there is are my lungs guttering water. I asked
politely for air, to no avail.

Yes Ensign

I controlled a whole religion, swathes of confidences
and I controlled the chickens, and the sun rise.
Fixed it so when I speak the day dawns and the chickens lay
on one word: go. And men march for one word: god. My banner the one they fly under, and my mouth gives tongue to his thunder. “Only a cock crows, coco-ri-co coco-ri-co and a flash of lightening”

Continue reading “Yes, Thank you Ensign: A New Poem by Liam Bell”