Bouncing Like Crazy

Eli Hopkins

When I got out of the shower Jill had almost finished packing her things, which was amazing considering the fact that I hadn’t noticed her get started. If only she wasn’t such an efficient and dynamic person I might’ve noticed she was leaving me. If she didn’t fold socks with such mechanical precision I might’ve perceived my world falling to pieces.

“What’re you doing?” I asked, hoping the combination of innocence and stupidity in my voice might inoculate my heart—and hers—against the obvious fact of the matter

“What does it look like?” she said.

I gave her my best dumb puppy face. It’s a face that’s gotten me out of untold jams. It’s a face that I make so often and so naturally you know it can’t possibly be fake. But she wasn’t having it. Not anymore. She wasn’t having any of this. I didn’t blame her. I knew that…

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They’re all Telling us the Same Thing

Drunk on Metaphors

everyone ignores their gods
until it’s important
then they mean the world

they see the true us
the sides we hide
then pray about

we fight
about who’s is right
but they’re all telling us
the same thing
be good to one another
and we can’t

we’re human
we live
we die
we need
something
to die for
so we don’t just
no longer
exist

©Madman Philosopher J.D. Casey IV

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2019 Literary Magazine Rankings for Poetry by Clifford Garstang + my list of Paying Markets for Emerging Poets

Trish Hopkinson

If you’re not already familiar with Clifford Garstang‘s annual literary magazine rankings or you’ve forgotten to check them out for a while, here’s a reminder to how handy they are! Every year Garstang ranks lit mags based on Pushcart Prize anthology. He creates rankings for the three main genres–Fiction, Poetry, and Non-Fiction. He explains why he started doing the rankings and his methodology. Submitting your work to lit mags you admire and managing submissions can be rewarding but can also be cumbersome work–Garstang explains, “Years ago, when I was first submitting short stories to literary magazines, I wanted a way to tier my submissions. I believe in simultaneous submissions, but I didn’t want to submit a story to a great magazine and a not-so-great magazine at the same time because of the risk of multiple acceptances. (If the not-so-great magazine accepted first, it would pain…

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YOU ARE THE ONE WHO WAITS FOR ME

THE FLOOD PLAIN, POEMS BY CHARLIE HOPKINS

IMG_4151written by Carol Hopkins

You are the One who waits for me.
You have waited for eons – before I was never born.
When I cry or feel pain or despair of my lot,
it’s you whispering my name and knowing I’ll hear
when I’m weary of the dream.

How long you have patiently stood by
while I turned my head and looked away into the galaxies of my mind.
The pain that is on me now is turning my head and
I glimpse you out of the corner of my eye.

Dusk is falling on this world so I can’t quite see yet,
but I know in the morning when the Sun rises
you’ll be there as you have always been.
How fortunate and blessed to finally know
unwavering loyalty and true love.

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Milestones

17numa

Today I received word that my writing has been published in the 300th literary venue since beginning to send out submissions in 2014.

And earlier this month my 1,500th poem was published during that same span of time.

Two nice milestones to reach.

My motto remains the same. One step and then the next. Always looking forward.

I sat on the front porch this morning watching the rain fall along with the leaves, and I thought about my amazing family and friends who have supported and encouraged me during this life. I am truly a lucky man.

I honestly believe that the real work has only just begun. I have big dreams, and I know that in order for them to be achieved my actions must follow suit.

I am more excited than ever about the possibilities of what the future holds.

Above all, I am extremely thankful.

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Featured Writer: Ken Allan Dronsfield

Creative Talents Unleashed

Of Yearning

In a lifetime full of yearning
through which came wishing, dreaming
within many splendid, unquiet enthusiasms
an echo murmured back the word, prayer!
I was needy and you solicitous,
my mind always straying to paradoxes.
Instead I uncovered the devotion,
the perkiness brought such euphoria
and so I screamed, ‘Is that a blessing?’
Mattering and assaultive within theodicy
Urging and purging within my slyness,
my shyness or otherness,
I could not awaken!
Tossing its ghost into all desire,
‘It’s that barrenness,’ I muttered
Quirkingly back into my memories
craving the eccentric, eclectic fantasy
the yearning essential evanescence
an evolutionist laughed in retort.
‘It’s that piety,’ I whispered.
The saintliness simply smiled.

© Ken Allan Dronsfield


Ken Allan Dronsfield, Poet, 2018 About the Writer
Ken Allan Dronsfield is a disabled veteran, prize winning poet and fabulist from New Hampshire, now residing on the plains of Oklahoma. He has been published in magazines, journals, reviews…

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