My novella got shortlisted for a Saboteur Award at the end of May. It didn’t win, but I got Sabotage Review, which means a lot to me.
A great site to read and/or submit your poems to 🙂
Jets are ready to take off for war; banners advertise the beauty
of cruel weapons. Sticky-pawed children queue to stroke
red-tipped wings, imagine parachute silks floating through
clouds escalating beyond the hangars. Fathers, who won’t watch
them grow, climb into polished seats, their specialist camouflage,
invisible in dark paintings, quivering under the thrust of propellers.
The sky dribbles vibrant colour, drifts through the scenery. Destination
isn’t important when fighting is; challenging the insupportable
outweighs the risk. For gamblers, risk is everything and nothing
at the same time; they can’t imagine not making their mark, won’t be
remembered with the wispy beards and skinny shins of old men.
The end is a plume of dust rising from the tombs of the bewildered.
One of my favourite sites. for reading and submitting to….I have a couple of poems here today…….
Broad backed, seal-like on the rock of stubborn acceptance
she feels flop-heavy, all fierceness gone. Dipping into morning’s
amber road, the journey absorbs her pain, smoothes the grumbling
edges. I try to read the whole of her: the shudder on the stairs,
her crumpled skirt dangerously torn. The road has seen and heard
it all before. The walking wounded don’t commit suicide on a whim.
My mind is a playground with a germ of an idea, a gem sparkling
within the umbra:
Mountains deny artificial explosives can be put
to good use. We explode naturally at times—all that fat.
Ash and steam create the loudest sound ever heard,
while history doffs its hat. We surmise that if we bubble
and expand enough, someone will hear the report.
A great online magazine to read and submit your writing to…..I have a couple of poems there this month…
The Haunted Sky
by Peter King
by Peter King
Waiting is filled with silence;
one drop slides down the smooth side,
hesitates before it’s sucked beneath
the incurved marble base.
There is bustle and commotion all around,
but it’s absorbed and nullified,
leaves not a ripple in the syrup
of the silent vessel, not a trace.
Even when the waiting’s overset –
a clumsy jog of someone’s
shoulder, maybe – it is slow to empty,
silence spreading out in sticky lace.
An insect, small and iridescent,
slow to see its danger, struggles
in the unexpected flood, antennae waving,
silence setting it eternally in place.
by Peter King
Beyond the armoured glass
its metal shutters now drawn back,
I stare at vacum.
The stars are brighter than
I’ve ever seen – but I don’t
see them now, nor my reflection,
nor the ghostly cabin at my back.
View original post 8,051 more words
Issue 24 of one of my favourite magazines is available here:
Prole is a print magazine crammed with poetry and prose. If you are a submitter, submit; but check out an issue for an idea of which of your work might fit. As a tiny taster, this is my contribution to issue 24:
In the wrought iron chair, oblivious to watchful eyes,
she’ll be waiting under a nervous moon for her dealer.
Her answers come foil –wrapped, sealed and shiny,
hard to get into without a steady hand.
My flaming wings were grounded by the threat:
‘Each time you chew your hair, angels fall from the sky.’
Hunger, the desire for sucking barley sugar to a point
that could blind with a jab, loosened my gloved fist,
had me running from the Trailer and her pipe-smoke, to
follow the direction of rain, edges of clouds, slush of gravel.
Shame is broken-glass shaped, fists through windows, bottles
smashed on grim pavements, my whistle killed by drifting teeth,
the sudden appearance of gaps on the bottom row, an inability
to exactly shape air to summon dogs racing over the horizon.
For sale: two signed copies of Filled with Ghosts, (Book 1, Spanish Spectres series)…Eight signed copies of Ghosts Treading Water (Book 3 Spanish Spectres series)
Not for sale: my copy of Ghost Train Leaving (Book 2, Spanish Spectres series….unsigned), dog bed, Nylobone and Trailer carpet. Cardboard to be recycled.
My poem 13 ways of Looking at Beetles was in the first volume of Lockjaw Magazine a couple of years ago. It’s an online magazine, one I really like, and it’s still happening (though not open to submissions at this precise moment in time). They have an archive of interesting editions. Here is that inaugural one:
Trying to gather together my ‘publishing history’ I came across a couple of my poems ‘Bully’ and Crossbow’ in Here Comes Everyone Magazine. It’s a great bi-annual literary magazine, in print, that’s still going strong, PDF versions can be read for free. Here’s a link to the PDF of the Conflict edition, December 2014.
Here’s a link to Picaroon Poetry’s Pushcart Prize nominations. Best of all, you get links to some issues of the magazine, all in one place, for free 🙂