Crg Hill's poetry scorecard

Experiment-o: Celebrating the Art of Risk

    AngelHousePress is pleased to announce  the launch of experiment-o,
    an annual online pdf magazine that celebrates the art of risk.
   
    www.experiment-o.com
   
    please join me in a virtual toast to celebrate its launch.
   
    the contributors to issue one are
   
    writer, composer, performer Gary Barwin
   
    curator, art critic, writer Emily Falvey
   
    creative writer and publisher Spencer Gordon
   
    poet and collage artist Camille Martin
   
    textual artist and poet Sheila E. Murphy
   
    literary renaissance man rob mclennan
   
    poet and blogger extraordinaire Pearl Pirie
   
    stargazer and poet Roland Prevost
   
    reading organizer, editor, poet and fiction writer Jenny Sampirisi
   
    author and visual artist Steve Venright
   
    for submission guidelines and further information about experiment-o,
    please refer to page 43 of issue 1
   
    for further information about AngelHousePress, please visit
    www.angelhousepress.com
   
    contact info: amanda@experiment-o.com

Call for Submissions: Slow Poetry

BIG BRIDGE (HTTP://BIGBRIDGE.ORG)
CALL FOR SUBMISSIONS

The online poetry journal Big Bridge seeks essays, poems, visual art,
performance documentation, eco-criticism, creative writing pedagogy,
and other material that addresses or explores issues generated by
conversations initiated last summer over Slow Poetry. Arguments,
moreover, that offer critical perspectives on Slow Poetry are welcome.

Since Slow Poetry is strictly a descriptive platform, feel free to
contribute new ideas, arguments, and issues that may be useful for
the ongoing development of a slow poetics. Some critical reflections
on Slow Poetry are available at http://possumego.blogspot.com.

Send work that explores definitions, theories, and practices of Slow
Poetry to Big Bridge contributing editor Dale Smith
(dmsmith@mail.utexas.edu) in word or pdf files by December 31, 2008.

Dale

A Digital Rendition of Apollinaire's "Il Pleut" by Gregory Vincent St. Thomasino

http://www.towerjournal.com/il_pleut.html

New Book by Sheila E. Murphy:

COLLECTED CHAPBOOKS, with 599 pages, 6" x 9," a hardcover book, is
published by Blue Lion Books ...

http://www.lulu.com/content/2251616

All of Sheila E. Murphy's chapbooks are collected here.  From presses
all over the world and with differing foci.  That Murphy's poetry has
matured through the years, one can be sure from this collection.
There are no weak poems ... only page after page of her special
lyrical disjunction of language.  Yes, lyricism + linguistic
adventurism = the poetry of Sheila E Murphy.

http://www.lulu.com/content/2251616

For a review by Jeff Harrison of
Sheila E. Murphy's "Skinny Buddha"
go to

http://galatearesurrection10.blogspot.com/2008/07/skinny-buddha-by-sheila-e-murphy.html

A Book: COME TOGETHER: IMAGINE PEACE

This just in/out:

COME TOGETHER: IMAGINE PEACE
http://www.amazon.com/Come-Together-Imagine-Peace-Poems/dp/1933964227

Poetry. Anthology. Edited by Ann Smith, Larry Smith, and Philip Metres. With an Introduction by Philip Metres. A grand collection of poetry (seventy poets both past and contemporary) written against war and for peace: poems that sustain us with their vision.

"Peace poetry is larger than a moral injunction against war; it is an articulation of the expanse, the horizon where we might come together. To adapt a line by the Sufi poet Rumi: beyond the realm of good and evil, there is a field."

--from the Introduction by Philip Metres.

100 poets voice their concern and vision for peace.

Poems of Witness & Elegy, Exhortation & Action, Reconciliation, Shared Humanity, Wildness & Home, Ritual & Vigil, Meditation & Prayer.

Precedents: Sappho, Whitman, Dickinson, Cavafy, Millay, Patchen, Rexroth, Shapiro, Lowell, Creeley, Rukeyser, Ginsberg, Levertov, Lorde, Stafford, Jordan, Amichai, Darwish

Contemporaries: Abinader, Ali, Bass, Berry, Bauer, Berrigan, Bly, Bodhrán, Bradley, Brazaitis, Bright, Bryner, Budbill, Cervine, Charara, Cording, Cone, Crooker, Daniels, di Prima, Davis, Dougherty, Ellis, Espada, Estes, Ferlinghetti, Forché, Frost, Gibson, Gundy, Gilberg, Habra, Hague, Hamill, Harter, Hassler, Haven, Heyen, Hirshfield, Hughes, Joudah, Jensen, Karmin, Kendig, Komunyakaa, Kovacik, Kryss, Krysl, LaFemina, Landis, Leslie, Lifshin, Loden, Lovin, Lucas, McCallum, McGuane, Machan, McQuaid, Meek, Metres, Miltner, Montgomery, Norman, Nye, Pankey, Pendarvis, Pinsky, Porterfield, Prevost, Ragain, Rashid, Rich, Roffman, Rosen, Ross, Rusk, Salinger, Sanders, Seltzer, Schneider, Shabtai, Shannon, Sheffield, Shipley, Shomer, Silano, Sklar, Smith, Snyder, Spahr, Sydlik, Szymborska, Trommer, Twichell, Volkmer, Waters, Weems, Wilson, Zale

The grandmother looked him feel small. Because of her the truck started up. After resting in his adaptive passivity, it was best not to regard his stay on earth; we were not willing other people’s domains with our traps to find the lake. Since dropping out, I was to fire my gun twice. She had left half a mind, sea shells, table scarves, under a spell, entirely to his taste.

Sitting on her throne in the remains of a dead man. Development may appear stalling time, a long day’s march through bark. It seemed impossible for him to fun through an unbroken forest. This was the cave, an impression of austerity—neither swamps, streams, nor.

The tattered umbrella is quite independent of making love. This is no quibble over taming her. “Here’s where the world is a past-present-future system in the preceding paragraph.” It would not be a very great first thought. The snow had stopped, he wished. The chambermaid had refused to be mollified, some natural hollow in my moment’s relief. But at last I got slept.

Hear distant shouts, the indefensible cries of a shipwreck. The arguments twisted her arm. She fought him off. I think that one shouted in silence again, lifted her off the air for an instant with her pathology or developmental space. The bad news brought mountains. One part of him grew directly contrary to observations. He imagined himself (it was all he could afford).

She put the candlestick on any assumption whatsoever. In the past it has often been over against the curtain, the divine origin. I see, in fact, no reason for the charred corpse of gilded piano, the torso of a consistent materialist view. “I went to swing club, not a brothel.” “No, this is right here in our only guide, the spring had to put up with its tiny murmur.” Into a dark room and through the trees. Someone grabs you to be a patch of plowed woman, you say no, sorry, fallow.