poetry

Issue Eighteen

art, Free poetry, magazine, poetry, Uncategorized, writing

Fab online magazine. My artwork happens to be on the cover 🙂

Riggwelter

Welcome to the eighteenth issue! Riggwelter keeps rolling on. This issue contains work from: Christy Alexander Hallberg, Caris Allen, Rosco Baldini, Stephen Briseño, Alyssa Ciamp, Geraldine Clarkson, Rachael Clyne, Jude Cowan Montague, Jessica Siobhan Frank, Samuel T. Franklin, Alison Gibson, Marissa Glover, Fiona Goggin, L. Mari Harris, Emily Harrison, Deborah Harvey, Seanín Hughes, Helen Kay, Kevin Latimer, Janice Leagra, Gayle Ledbetter Newby, Karen Little, Eleanor Mae, Brian Martin, Dan McKeon, Victoria Nordlund, James Northern, Robert Okaji, James Owens, Theresa Reagan, Bethany Rivers, Kelli Simpson, Gerri Stewart and Grace Velee and is edited by Amy Kinsman.

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Picaroon Poetry – Issue #13 – September 2018

Free poetry, poetry, Uncategorized, writing

A fabulous read and a great place to submit work to. I have a poem in this issue. It’s one of my favourite places to send work to….

Picaroon Poetry

Picaroon is back, with our last issue of 2018 – but don’t be sad. There will be a bit of a break, but we get back to our normal bi-monthly schedule in January. Also: we are now OPEN for submissions after our summer break, so please check our guidelines and send us your best rogue poems.

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Addiction

art, Collating poems, colour shape and form, Free poetry, ideas buzzing, life, magazine, poetry, Uncategorized, women writing, writing

Addiction

Have I mentioned ‘I am not a silent poet’ webzine? Maybe…..it’s worth checking out…and seeing if some of your poems are a fit…if you are a submitter….or if you like that kind of  writing as a reader. This is one of my poems that went up on the site a few months ago. I’m on with a project…art/writing….so it came up today:

Addiction

Clouds lower, proving the curves of sky in broad strokes.
Sea should soothe, its enviable power override the black dog
bounding towards me. I watch sprite shadows scamper

along sea walls, see him hook twin trout wriggling
on the end of taut lines, reeling them in, hugging
their slippery bodies.  I no longer lust after him;

my addiction to unreality, found at the bottom of wine bottles,
gives me extra layers of skin as he flays them.
We’re angry as gulls squabbling over ham baked by the sun.

Doing My Own Thing….(some would say, shooting myself in the foot)

art, Collating poems, ideas buzzing, life, poetry, Uncategorized, women painting, writing

INKI’m working towards an exhibition/event. This is one of twenty hand -drawn ink covers…each of which contains a random group of eight of my poems. They will form part of the exhibition. I’m hoping to do some printed versions from the originals….to sell to fund the exhibition. What could go wrong?  Nobody giving a fook I suppose. I don’t have the time or people skills to create a fan base…..

Angelica

Free poetry, life, poetry, Uncategorized, women writing, writing

Today I have a poem up on Atrium Poetry. I would highly recommend reading and submitting work to this fabulous online magazine….

Angelica

The Inheritance of Loss afforded him
opportunity to leave her. The Other Hand
was saved for us, shaped how she raised us.
Intimacy meant getting close enough
to have our blocks knocked off. The Great Beast
was tucked behind curtains or under blankets.
Slaughterhouse fueled my nightmares; her
choosing from curtains of meat at Snapes’s
while I gazed at meringues next door in Burton’s.
Topped with angelica, I knew they were reserved
for The Most Beautiful Woman in Town.

Karen Little trained as a dancer and a fine artist. She is widely published as a poet in the UK and further afield.

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Fast Flight by Karen Little

Free poetry, poetry, Uncategorized, writing

A great site to read and/or submit your poems to 🙂

I am not a silent poet

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.

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Shudder on the Stairs by Karen Little

Free poetry, poetry, Reading, Uncategorized, writing

One of my favourite sites. for reading and submitting to….I have a couple of poems here today…….

I am not a silent poet

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.

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