I am one of those poets who will not turn her nose up at a dozen newly sharpened pencils, but pencils are not for everyone, so I have compiled a little list of other gifts that the poet in your life just might appreciate.
Read MoreMolly Malone Cook
Molly Malone Cook
I am one of those poets who will not turn her nose up at a dozen newly sharpened pencils, but pencils are not for everyone, so I have compiled a little list of other gifts that the poet in your life just might appreciate.
Read MoreAll the petty energies expended on downtalking the nominations or defending your own excitement is better spent, I promise. Like on resistance. Or supporting people. Or writing more
Read MoreAdriaen van Utrecht
I know what it sounds like, but it’s true: you broke the spine of my life. You used to hand me scraps of kindness, and I would gnaw on them for days.
Read MoreIn ancient times people slept on nothing but bundles of straw, animal skins and other natural materials. Sometime later, someone had the wonderful idea to raise this bedding off the ground to avoid drafts and crawling critters. Then came stone boxes, and in Egypt, the more important you were, the higher your bed was. Imagine having to climb steps in order go to bed. Talk about making an entrance! Later, we had beds made of fine woods, carved intricately or gilded becoming even more a status symbol, later on the 18th century, iron came into play, one of the selling points being that insects could not penetrate iron. True!
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Joanna C. Valente is a human who lives in Brooklyn, New York, and is the author of Sirs & Madams (Aldrich Press, 2014), The Gods Are Dead (Deadly Chaps Press, 2015), Marys of the Sea (The Operating System, 2017), Xenos (Agape Editions, 2016) and the editor of A Shadow Map: An Anthology by Survivors of Sexual Assault (CCM, 2017). Joanna received a MFA in writing at Sarah Lawrence College, and is also the founder of Yes, Poetry, a managing editor for Luna Luna Magazine and CCM, as well as an instructor at Brooklyn Poets. Some of their writing has appeared, or is forthcoming, in Brooklyn Magazine, Prelude, Apogee, Spork, The Feminist Wire, BUST, and elsewhere.
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... a little reminder that Puerto Ricans are a strong united people.
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John Maher is an award-winning journalist and poet living in Brooklyn, NY. He is digital editor and associate news editor at Publishers Weekly and co-editor of The Dot and Line. He has written for such publications as Esquire.com, Thrillist, Kirkus Reviews, Electric Literature, Hyperallergic, and The Rumpus, among others. His poems have been acclaimed by Mark Wunderlich as “sharp, short, and striking, notable for their control and their certainty. I admire the endings of the poems in particular, with their modest flourishes, their brandished daggers."
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Via Cynthia Figueroa
... @thewildflowerpower is a vibrant archive of green things..
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Peter Milne Greiner
Peter Milne Greiner's work has been featured in Motherboard, Dark Mountain, Fence, SciArt Magazine, and elsewhere, and has been lauded by the likes of Jeff VanderMeer and Claire L. Evans. He studied poetry at The New School under Sekou Sundiata, and is a scholar of the history of the Roaring Forties. In July of 2013 he sent a poem into space through the Jamesburg Earth Station in Carmel Valley, California. He is the author of the chapbook Executive Producer Chris Carter. LOST CITY HYDROTHERMAL Field is his first full length collection.
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Jeff Kravitz
In his final letter to humanity, Kurt writes at the end of the letters, “I’ll be at your altar.” If he is speaking to humanity he must be referencing the altar of religion, of fate. If he is speaking to his wife he must mean the altar on which they built their lives: the one filled with drugs, rehab, and guitars. But maybe he’s speaking to his daughter, just a two year old girl at time of her father’s suicide, and he means he will be at her crib, her bedroom altar, waiting for her like a father feels he should. Kurt was a mystery for most of the world. Though many of us would argue we knew him all along.
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There’s a photograph of Georgia O’Keeffe, her face hung like a moon and her hair pulled in a dark crescent, that has always haunted me. The image pulses with power, attacking the contemporary moment with the timelessness of an icon or a specter.
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via allure
Pinterest is the devil. Well, not really of course but it definitely puts your loves and, let’s face it, materialism into perspective. One of my 55+ (hush!) boards is entitled If I Had Money to Burn. And it includes pottery older than Hera and beds that no longer exist. Or if they do are locked away in the perfectly preserved loft of some long dead Italian socialite. That gave me the idea of writing reviews for these and other items that I may never be able to obtain because of a lack of funds or that they simply no longer exist. It would also strengthen my copy writing chops, so win/win! Maybe this will become a new genre, fan reviewing? (Just kidding.) My first effort follows below and more will follow soon!
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Joanna C. Valente is a human who lives in Brooklyn, New York, and is the author of Sirs & Madams (Aldrich Press, 2014), The Gods Are Dead (Deadly Chaps Press, 2015), Marys of the Sea (The Operating System, 2017), Xenos (Agape Editions, 2016) and the editor of A Shadow Map: An Anthology by Survivors of Sexual Assault (CCM, 2017). Joanna received a MFA in writing at Sarah Lawrence College, and is also the founder of Yes, Poetry, a managing editor for Luna Luna Magazine and CCM, as well as an instructor at Brooklyn Poets. Some of their writing has appeared, or is forthcoming, in Brooklyn Magazine, Prelude, Apogee, Spork, The Feminist Wire, BUST, and elsewhere.
Read MoreBuried under the snow, a hand. It crawled with fingertips as black as the hidden pavement. The man arising. The sun glaring on his home in the snow, turning it back into water. A car and then a crowd pass by and the man sits naked with his hand outstretched. Scars spiral up the muscles of his blue veined forearm--a tale he’d rather not tell and no one asks him anyway. There was a woman once, passing by she dropped a red kopeck in his hand and he thanked her. Such a strange piercing stare in her ice blue eyes bloodshot with last night’s memories still playing like a video tape across her retinas. Was he there? No, he was buried deep where no one could find him, and now his house was gone. He’d make another when the weather turned. Until then, he would sit with his hand outstretched and waiting. Maybe someone would take it.
Read MoreBY LISA MARIE BASILE
I’m not trying to write a researched post or a think piece. I’m just writing to you, as a person. As an appeal.
I want to talk about the "witch hunt" against men by women and non binary folks. And about the way we talk about assault.
Many of us keep hearing people say that NOT ALL MEN (oh for the love of god, not again) have done "equally bad" things. Like, taking your dick out isn't the same as rape or wielding power or money over someone so they fuck you isn't the same as touching someone. There are lots of KINDS of assault, of course. We all know this. Although there are vastly different levels of short- and long-term trauma involved, what makes something that's nonviolent and space-invading okay if the other person didn't ask for it? There is a consent issue even if the body is not involved directly. Can we update this thinking, please?
Yes. There is difference between raping someone and staring at someone, both legally and ethically, but the fact of the matter is that ALL of these behaviors have gone un-checked for a long time and both require consequences. Different consequences, but consequences nonetheless.
The baseline consequence is that these assailants must look into the abyss and have it look back. They must know that they are predatory; they must live with it; they must die knowing it. Other consequences are legal, social, familial, professional, etc.
For society to be healthy, we need to tell our kids and men and boys (and everyone) that abuse of power is not okay in any way.
I’ve have heard a LOT of people saying that many of these stories coming out against Spacey, Weinstein, Louis, etc., are "bandwagon" stories. That they're tiring, not constructive, repetitive...and, the worst, "done for attention." (Because sexual assault attention is SO fun and validating, right?).
I have briefly considered these wayward opinions, which I have seen proliferated both by men as well as by smart, compassionate, and trusted feminists, women, and non binary folks.
But I disagree with these ideas.
If it feels like a "bandwagon" or a "witch hunt" it's because it is. For so long, women/non binary people have been told—either out loud, or quietly, through small, uncomfortable gaslighting moments and fucked up interactions—that our stories don't matter. Fuck yes, we have a hunt going. Do we sit inside while others ravage through the night for change? Or do we (those of us that can or want to) finally join, as we maybe have wanted to for so long? Remember: some of us stay silent for safety purposes. So we have to fight for everyone, even if they can’t for themselves.
I have two stories I’d like to share. About molestation and harassment. Both deal with sexual assault in different ways.
I’m saying it because I’ve been feeling safer—safe enough to do so. (I’ve already got all the attention I would need, thanks, so it’s not for that. #EyeRoll).
RELATED: Should We Use Witchcraft Against Rapists?
This is about being touched: At a young age—right before adolescence, I slept over a friend's house. The stepfather touched me as I slept. He touched my friend too. She was in the space as I was. I woke up. I told the friend in the morning what her stepfather had done. I told my mother. We went to the police. The youngest daughters said he'd raped them. The oldest, 16, said it wasn't true. Their mother called me a liar. The court case against him was lost. The two girls said they had lied. There was so much disbelief and so much attack against me (they'd said I was projecting my own lack of a father figure onto him) that the girls had just given in and tried to keep the peace and said it wasn't true. With all my heart, this shit was fucking true. He had me sit on his lap in the dark multiple times. But it was the 90s, a small town, and no one fought for me and my experience. I don't speak about this much, but do not for one second think it doesn't bother me that people like this get away with this fuckery. EVERY. DAY.
This is about being harassed: A few years ago I was in a management role at a startup. Another manager hit on me, tried to touch me, made advances at me. I told my young, "hip" boss what happened and he told me "that guy does that to everyone." He asked me not to speak up. They were selling the company. They didn't want to fuck shit up. I told the HR director who was leaving. This wasn't a silent situation. What happened? NOTHING.
Both are real and bad. And worth discussing in their own way. Both are systemic. Both are caused by society feeding ideas of (mostly) male power and dominance.
So if we are bandwagoning—whether in Hollywood OR in our lives in small towns and big cities away from the silver screen—it's because we're taking a chance we feel we are not alone in taking. Who wants to stand up and shout what happens all alone? It's bad enough most of us repress it just to be able to deal.
So, have some patience. Know that people are trying to find their way around in the dark. Know that this is the way to change. It's not perfect. If there were a manual for "how to finally make it known that male toxicity is a disease and is fucking everyone up since forever" maybe we'd know how to handle it. So, if you must critique a movement, consider the reasons it may be flawed first. Emotion is not perfect.
We see all these stories and all these admissions and we think it’s strictly a women’s issue or an issue done TO people (all people I might add: people of color, cis-het people, non binary folks, and people in the LGBTQIA community, every body, shape and size, everyone) instead of BY people.
But it’s more than that. This is a MEN's issue, mostly. It’s an assailant’s issue. The survivors can’t figure your shit out for you.
What this means: if you ARE in the demographic that hasn't abused your power or treated us like objects or raped us or even made us feel super uncomfortable or told us our allegations weren't real, then speak out. Speak out to other men and spread the fucking word. What kind of human are you if you don't?
And if you are those men: stand up, take responsibility and do the work to stare yourself in the eye and come to terms with how your wound wounded others. Fix this.
We cannot all heal unless we do it together.
Lisa Marie Basile is the founding editor-in-chief and creative director of Luna Luna Magazine. She is also the moderator of its digital community. Her work has appeared in The Establishment, Bustle, entropy, Bust, Hello Giggles, Marie Claire, Good Housekeeping, greatist, Cosmopolitan and The Huffington Post, among other sites. She is the author of Apocryphal (Noctuary Press), war/lock (Hyacinth Girl Press), Andalucia (The Poetry Society of New York) and Triste (Dancing Girl Press). her book, nympholepsy, was a finalist in the 2017 tarpaulin sky book awards.
Her work can be found in PANK, the Tin House blog, The Nervous Breakdown, The Huffington Post, Best American Poetry, PEN American Center, The Atlas Review, and tarpaulin sky, among others. She has taught or spoken at Brooklyn Brainery, Columbia University, New York University and Emerson College. Lisa Marie Basile holds an MFA from The New School. @lisamariebasile