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Naked (for the women of Salem)
By Jennifer L. Gauthier
Naked lately—
flayed over fire
innards exposed indisposed
to tell my secrets
to those who wait.
Called to testify amplify verify the very part
that hides itself away inside.
Bartholomew knew the fate that
I can't escape
To skin the truth off the lies to try
To skim the oil from the water
As it slews in circles across the surface.
Roiling, my brain buzzes with bitter words
Biting back the worst when they threaten to slip through the slit
That gapes in my face.
Naked later—
Stuffed with stones sinking
Into the dank underbelly of the stream
screaming through the current wetly
with a witch's wail.
naked arms
By The Poet Spiel
they may be hungry
but they are not cold
they learned first
not to be cold
not to wear a coat
because there was no coat
you see them at grunt work
on hiways on rooftops on farms
you see them pushing snow pushing manure
no coat
like they are not cold
tho you are freezing
everyone is freezing
the old ones survived
the border crossing
determined to tolerate
anything for a penny
just for this opportunity
they could not afford to be cold
their kids' kids' kids still crawl out
from beneath old truckbeds
or plywood lean-tos down at the tracks
to walk to school to learn english
with their faces scrubbed
but without coats
with naked arms
you want to say:
are you hungry
are you cold
tho you know they are not cold
if you gave them your coat
they would not wear it
they do not wear coats
bulk beans or rice suffice
but they are not cold
Nameless Boy
By Douglas Goetsch (now Diana Goetsch). Like a Garrison Keillor monologue at the end of an evening, humorous riffs and tender anecdotes prove only partially effective at warding off a deep melancholy in this poet's third full-length collection. You can laugh at light verse such as "Pee on Your Foot", and a few pages later, be slain by the self-lacerating loneliness of "Forgiveness Poem". Sometimes the shift stuns you with surprise in the same poem, as when a tongue-in-cheek tribute to 1989's morning radio mix ends with the questioning of a worker's hopeless endurance, reminiscent of Philip Levine. In their unpretentious way, these narratives hope to heal the deepest wound of ordinary life: that of never really knowing the people close to us, or being known. Both this theme and the title seem to take on an additional significance from Goetsch's post-publication gender transition. The book closes with a delightful, multi-part fantasy about names and whether they determine our destiny, the poem itself a gift for a boy who is named at the end.
NameProtect’s Free Online Trademark Search
Thinking of starting a new publication or service? Try out various names with NameProtect's free online trademark search. Avoid wasting legal fees pursuing names that are already taken.
Nappy Stock Photography
Looking for diverse book cover art on a budget? Nappy offers high-quality free stock photos featuring black and brown people.
Narrative Magazine Directory of Writers’ Resources
Narrative Magazine, a well-regarded online journal, offers this free-to-access directory of links to literary conferences, books and articles with advice about writing, and degree programs in writing and publishing.
Narrative Magazine’s Directory of Literary Agents
Narrative Magazine, a well-regarded online journal of creative writing, maintains this directory with links to established agents in many genres. The site also includes advice about pitching your book.
Narratively
Founded in 2012, Narratively is an online magazine of journalistic features about "ordinary people with extraordinary stories". They publish longform and shortform articles, short documentary films, photo essays, audio, and comics. Narratively sponsors an annual free writing contest with a large cash prize.
National Assembly of State Arts Agencies
Good source for grant opportunities.
National Association of Writers in Education
Resources include an annual conference for writing teachers and an online bulletin board of jobs and publication opportunities.
National Association of Writers in Education
NAWE supports the development of creative writing of all genres and in all educational and community settings throughout the UK. Resources include an annual conference for writing teachers and an online bulletin board of jobs and publication opportunities.
National Association of Writers’ Groups
UK-based NAWG sponsors its own literary contests and provides information about two dozen others around Britain. The contest listings are updated several times each year. From the NAWG home page, click the Competitions link.
National Centre for Writing
The UK's National Centre for Writing offers courses, curriculum resources, prizes, youth programs, and resources for translators, to name just some of their programs. Check out their list of links to many other British literary organizations.
National Education Association Foundation Grants
Grants for educators at US public schools, colleges and universities to improve student literacy, develop new education programs, and retain qualified teachers in high-risk communities.
National Federation of State Poetry Societies
This nonprofit organization sponsors dozens of annual poetry contests with low entry fees. The individual state societies often sponsor additional contests. Some awards are specifically for middle school, high school, and college students.
National Jukebox
This project at the Library of Congress makes historic recordings of popular and classical music and spoken-word performances available online. Search the archives by artist name and genre, or simply enjoy the eclectic selections of the day. The collection features more than 10,000 78rpm disc sides issued by the Victor Talking Machine Company between 1900 and 1925. Other material from the archives is currently being brought online.
National Novel Writing Month
Jump-start that book you've been meaning to write, with this fun project that dares participants to write a 50,000-word novel between November 1 and November 30 each year. Read your fellow scribblers' work online, share ideas and encouragement in the forums, and write without looking back. NaNoWriMo's philosophy is "quantity over quality": what matters is that you overcome your fear of getting started.
National Schools Project
This group of educators publishes an annual anthology, the Young American Poetry Digest, showcasing poems by US elementary and secondary school students. Each participating school receives a free copy of the book. There are also awards of $100 and $50 for the schools with the most student poems accepted.
National Student Drama Festival
British festival sponsors playwriting contests for young authors in the US and internationally.
Navigation
By Mark Fleisher
As we age, some
glide gracefully,
others stumble
headlong or
feet first
into this new space
Leaf through
the memoir
of the mind,
clear the dust
from old souvenirs,
recall the
master plan
derailed by
unanticipated
events, some
of your
own creation
Remember the voyage,
once smooth,
later blown
off course
but managing
to steer through
troubles without
running aground
Travel along
the path, suddenly
knocked off stride
onto the shoulder,
the loose gravel
bruising the ego,
scraping the psyche
Where we are taken
where we find ourselves
destinations never
imagined when
we sailed
the glass sea or
walked the
unimpeded way
We learned
to play
the hand
as dealt,
still wary
for hornets
are everywhere,
poised to plunge
stingers through
trusting innocence
NEA Military Healing Arts Partnership
The National Endowment for the Arts is a federal agency that gives grants to individual artists and arts organizations in the US. Launched in 2011, the NEA Military Healing Arts Partnership supports creative art therapy programs to help wounded, ill, and injured American service members and their families in their recovery, reintegration or transition to civilian life. In conjunction with the Walter Reed National Military Medical Center, this partnership is developing arts programs to treat service members with traumatic brain injury and associated psychological health issues.
Necessary Fiction
Necessary Fiction is an online journal publishing original short stories, book reviews, and essays on writing. In their "Research Notes" column, published authors share informative and quirky stories about doing research for their recent books. Writers in the "Translation Notes" column describe the process of bringing a recent book of fiction into English.
Neglected Books
The Neglected Books blog spotlights "thousands of books that have been neglected, overlooked, forgotten, or stranded by changing tides in critical or popular taste." Posts include reviews, lists, and brief excerpts. Many of the featured works are literary fiction and poetry from the early and mid-20th century, though older works also make an appearance.
Neon Door
Founded in 2021, Neon Door is an immersive online literary space that publishes poetry, fiction, essays, visual art, music, graphic narrative, and video clips. Sign up for their free e-newsletter for book recommendations, literary links, and thought-provoking columns from their editors.
Nepantla
Launched in 2014 by the Lambda Literary Foundation, Nepantla is an online journal of poetry by LGBTQ writers of color. The journal's name is an Aztec-language word for the space between worlds, or liminal space. For guidelines or other questions, contact the editors at nepantla@lambdaliterary.org.
NetManners
Essential points of online etiquette, from marketing and technology expert Judith Kallos. If you want to be taken seriously as a professional writer, courteous, typo-free contest submissions, query letters and weblog entries can make all the difference.
Neurotic Poets
Bios and links to poetry by legendary self-destructive geniuses such as Plath, Byron and Poe.
Never Let Me Go
This quietly heartbreaking and provocative novel is equal parts British boarding-school story, dystopian science fiction, and Kafkaesque fable about conformity. While the premise (human clones harvested for their organs) seems ripped from the headlines, the absence of plausible science in the plot suggests that the clones are a metaphor for the myriad ways we sacrifice our human potential by failing to question authority.
new heat
By Frank Prem
a river of aluminum flowed
beneath the hulk of our car
engine blocks are only alloy
these days
window frames on houses
swam away
and cement sheeting
turned to powder
heat
it's an old word
we need something new
to describe what ran through us
that day
New Kid
By Jerry Craft. In this engaging and important middle-grade graphic novel, Black 7th-grader Jordan Banks is transplanted from his Washington Heights neighborhood to a mostly white and rich prep school in Riverdale, where he uses humor and cartooning to process the challenges of making new friends and coping with microaggressions from students and teachers.
New Letters
Past contributors have included May Sarton, J.D. Salinger, Marianne Moore, Joyce Carol Oates, Tess Gallagher and Richard Wright. See their website for audio archives from their radio program, New Letters on the Air, and rules for their annual writing contests.
New Millennium Writings
"New Millennium Writings is published annually. We accept general submissions January through April of each year. We will consider poetry, for which we pay in two copies, plus fiction, and nonfiction, for which we pay $100, plus two copies, upon acceptance. We're especially interested in interviews and profiles of famous writers or tributes to legendary writers (for our Janus File) who are no longer living but whose influence is still felt."
New Play Exchange
New Play Exchange is a site for playwrights, lyricists, composers, librettists, devising artists, adapters, and translators to read and share scripts. Find your next collaborator or dramatic work to produce at your arts organization, and network with other creators in your genre. Annual fees are just $12 for early-career members and $18 for professionals.
New Plays and the Destructive Cult of Virginity
In this provocative article at the online journal Howlround, lesbian-feminist playwright Carolyn Gage critiques the "previously unpublished/unproduced" requirement in most submission guidelines for contests, magazines, and drama festivals. Gage observes that this system disadvantages writers from less-privileged backgrounds or with radical viewpoints, who may not have access to a high-profile venue for their work's first publication or production, and are then banned from submitting it elsewhere. "I would like to see folks really challenge this obsession with 'purity' as it relates to manuscripts for new work. The protocol is shot-through with patriarchal and deeply classist prerogatives and assumptions about the entire nature of the relationship between the producer/publisher and the playwright. This should be a relationship of equals. I do not demand that they come to my work with no previous experience with producing or publishing, and I find it an insult that they impose a virginity criteria on my work. In their fixation on virginity, these publishers and producers bypass many fresh and innovative plays and they penalize the most entrepreneurial authors."
New World
I crawled for days across the arid Indian plains
until my knee caps bled red and old scars opened
leaving irregular patterns on the hard soil,
seeking the slow flowing Ganges
and searching for silk prayer shawls in the shallow mud.
I dipped my head under the holy waters
looking across to the mouldy green and peeling orange walls
of the eroding temples. Blue saliva stains playing patterns
on the sidewalks seemed to throb and pulse
and the breast pains that I endured pumped up my stomach
into elastic balls that floated with the tides
and currents below, carrying offal and soap suds
that burnt my eyes until I ceased noticing
blank worshippers urinating on banks not so far away.
Holy men limped by and waved with crooked sticks.
Had I transgressed their holy territory and disturbed the calm
as the trees nearby vaguely stirred? I had not seen this sector before
and peeled off my clothes pronouncing that I carried no weapons
nor bibles of the New Testament.
It was only fair that I should float naked.
A holy man with black match stick legs and purple toes
strolled across my wake—the strange strains of sitar rhythms
pierced my ears and deep subterranean tunnel noises
rose to the murky surface in yellow translucent cubes.
My tattered heart tangled in the easy river flow.
My half closed eyes just above the line sought rusty river trams
or logs of debris to help me stay afloat.
But the relentless bloated soap suds burnt my tongue
as I struggled to chant select bible songs.
Laughing filled the blue air and young chocolate coated children
tugged on their garland wreaths, flinging buds and thorns
to where I swam. I choked and coughed
and slowly wore down as the muezzin
from the nearby tower mosque search lighted for
my soul. The high screams of prayers cascaded,
pushing me further down as four black hooded men
dragged me from the flow; I hoped and hoped
they would not sacrifice me in holy flames. I tried to whisper
as they held my arms that I was only looking
for love. Why brand me in sati tradition? I told them,
I know many verses off by heart from the Hindu bible
and the Bhagavad-Gita which is a Song of God. I am untouchable.
I was married to Christ. I was born on a cross.
Does it not count in this new century?
Copyright 2005 by Martin Steele. Mr. Steele was a finalist in our 2003 War Poetry Contest for "Sarel and Samson".
Critique by Jendi Reiter
This month's critique poem, "New World" by Martin Steele, presents an instantly recognizable character: the naive traveler who is seduced and destroyed by a culture he does not understand. This nightmare recurs often in colonial and postcolonial literature, embodying Western fears that our political dominance is neither deserved nor secure. In depicting the alien culture as a primitive destructive force, the writer can suggest both the powerlessness of Western ideals and, paradoxically, their superiority to the natives' barbaric behavior. (This theme was central to the work of 20th-century fiction writer Paul Bowles.)
The narrator of "New World" seems to have come to India on a spiritual pilgrimage. He seeks out extreme experiences that will break down the boundaries of his old self and put him in touch with a deeper reality. To that end, he immerses himself in pain, dirt and decay, violating "civilized" taboos to reach a state where another's bodily fluids are no more alien to him than his own. In his new world, even humble saliva glows in psychedelic colors, and clean and unclean elements commingle shamelessly. A silk scarf could be found in the mud; "offal and soap suds" combine in the holy river.
Yet how real is this oneness? Using the exotic culture as a tool for his own enlightenment, the protagonist fails to comprehend it on its own terms, with fatal consequences. Despite his physical self-abandonment in the first half of the poem, he is in control of the experience. He chose these privations and could turn back if he felt like it.
The first breath of fear stirs with the line, "Had I transgressed their holy territory...?" The protagonist feels control slipping from his grasp, but still naively hopes that his gesture of good faith will placate whomever he has offended: "[I] peeled off my clothes pronouncing that I carried no weapons/nor bibles of the New Testament./It was only fair that I should float naked." He expects his notions of fair play to be perfectly understood by his mysterious observers. But his gesture of contrition—I am not like those others who imposed upon you with their weapons and their Christianity—may seem to them like weakness and disloyalty to his own kind.
Before he quite understands what has happened, the narrator is fighting for survival: "My half closed eyes just above the line sought rusty river trams/or logs of debris to help me stay afloat." In fear, he reverts to the religion he disavowed: "I struggled to chant select bible songs."
As he endeavors not to drown, he attracts hostile attention from figures who have no comparable doubts about what their faith demands: either convert the infidel ("the muezzin/from the nearby tower mosque search lighted for/my soul") or kill him ("four black hooded men/dragged me from the flow"). Vainly he tries to save himself by offering proof of his good intentions ("I was only looking/for love") and his appreciation of all faiths, veering into delusional overstatement.
The protagonist's cry, "I am untouchable," has a paradoxical double meaning in this context. On one level, it could mean "I cannot be harmed by you" or "How dare you touch me"—an assertion of high status. However, "untouchable" is also the name for the lowest caste in traditional Indian society, a pariah group. Is his choice of words merely another unfortunate misunderstanding, or is he trying to convince his hosts that he is one of them—saying, in effect, "I identify completely with your society, even its lowest members"?
I was somewhat confused by the Muslim characters' appearance on the scene, since the culture that the protagonist had been sampling up to that point seemed Hindu (temples, holy beggars, the Ganges). The confusion is increased by his plea to his (presumably) Muslim captors, "Why brand me in sati tradition," since "sati" is a Hindu ritual in which a widow immolates herself on her husband's funeral pyre.
Perhaps the narrator's fatal mistake was not realizing that India, to him a symbol of cosmic unity, is itself torn by Hindu-Muslim animosity. Thus he unwittingly strays into Muslim territory ("I had not seen this sector before") and is taken for an enemy. While logical, this interpretation diminishes the poem's tragic irony. If the culture that destroyed him is not even the one he idealized and misappropriated, his fate starts to seem more like simple bad luck. On the other hand, if the hooded figures are not Muslim, the muezzin seems out of place in a poem that is otherwise all about a Westerner's encounter with Hinduism.
The last line's rhetorical question was also hard to fit into the story as I understood it. Is the protagonist harking back to the colonial era, when Christians expected to be recognized as bearers of a superior civilization? "I was married to Christ. I was born on a cross," he says, his garbled theology reminiscent of explorers who tried to subdue the natives by claiming to be gods from far-off lands. Still, I would like to know what exactly has changed in this century, and why the unlucky narrator thought it would stay the same.
Where could this poem be submitted? "New World" has more dramatic action in it than the personal lyrics that are standard fare in many literary journals. Some politically correct editors may also have trouble with its depiction of non-Western cultures as less than benign. However, the high quality of its imagery could earn it a place in a major magazine. Some markets to consider:
Sunken Garden Poetry Festival National Poetry Competition
Postmark Deadline: February 1
http://www.hillstead.org/
Prize includes reading at festival in Connecticut in July; no simultaneous submissions
Strokestown International Poetry Competitions
Postmark Deadline: February 15
https://strokestownpoetryfest.ie/poetry-competition/
Irish contest offers a prize of 4,000 euros for poems in English and another 4,000 euros for poems in Irish, Scottish Gaelic or Manx
Florida Review Editors' Awards
Postmark Deadline: March 15
http://floridareview.cah.ucf.edu/submit/annual-editors-awards/
Named for Joseph Campbell, the great scholar of mythology, contest seeks published or unpublished poems that "treat larger themes with lyric intensity"
Robinson Jeffers Tor House Prize for Poetry
Postmark Deadline: March 15
http://www.torhouse.org/prize/
Past winners of this $1,000 prize have been emotionally powerful and rich in imagery (read them on website)
This poem and critique appeared in the January 2005 issue of Winning Writers Newsletter.
New York Foundation for the Arts Database
Large directory of opportunities for visual artists, performers and writers. Search by genre, geographic eligibility, type of funding and more.
New York Shakespeare Exchange: The Sonnet Project
The New York Shakespeare Exchange's mission is to expand the audience for Shakespeare's plays and to support innovative presentations. One of their ventures is The Sonnet Project, a series of short films juxtaposing a Shakespeare sonnet and a vignette set in a distinctive NYC location.
New Zealand Poetry Society
Their website includes numerous listings for literary events, resources and contests for writers in New Zealand and abroad.
NewPages
News, information and guides to independent bookstores, independent publishers, literary periodicals, alternative periodicals, independent record labels, alternative newsweeklies and more. See the Big List of Writing Contests.
NewPages Young Writers Guide
NewPages is a resource site showcasing independent presses, literary magazines, bookstores, and creative writing programs. This page on their site offers a vetted list of publications and contests that accept work from youth and teens.
NewTown Writers
NewTown also offers workshops for local writers and sponsors literary events.
Nick Antosca
"Movies and Kids", winner of the 2004 fiction contest from Painted Bride Quarterly, is a brilliant, disturbing story that could have been written by Shirley Jackson or Patricia Highsmith.
Night Fire
By Sheryl Clough
—inspired by a WWII spotter's cabin at Banba's Crown, Malin Head, County Donegal
The North Atlantic chops at the green shore
with white-edged knife blades. On the grass
far below, remains of chalk spell 'EIRE', marks
left by a hopeful people in that time of bombs.
On this wind strewn cliff still stands a concrete
spotter's hut. Inside the soot-black walls, small
traces remain of those who watched, huddled by night
around a feeble fire, longing for home, steamed
brown bread, flannel sheets. What thoughts chased
them, as engine roars graced the storm clouds?
Imagine a youth in a leather jacket, holding hands
clapped over his ears. So lately he held hands
with a hometown girl, their whispers stretching
long into the night. What plans they made! And
then the War, rending the gossamer dream fabric
as shrapnel rends flesh. He protects his ears, for
what else is under his control, pierced as he is
by shrieking propellers, by fear, by the ultimate
knowledge that only Providence can keep him alive,
suspended above the chalk, below the dark.
This poem first appeared in the anthology Embers and Flames (Outrider Press, 2015).
Night of Sky and East vs. West
NIGHT OF SKY by Changming Yuan
night of sky in the sea, bursting
with clouds and whales and chrysanthemums
night of sky in my mind—flat
when my meditative spirit stays still
among shapes and sounds, like a lotus-eater
night of sky in the sky, deep night
when my imaginings are starfish finding themselves
swimming closer to the carrel tree, to their nests
Copyright 2010 by Changming Yuan; originally published in Sea Stories
EAST VS. WEST by Changming Yuan
breaking, broken
bare bricks on the Berlin Wall
collected from the ruins
to build a transparent bridge
between the past and the future
broken, breaking
earthen bricks for Badalin Ridge
baked in a dragon fire
to repair and strengthen the long wall
separating the prairies farther from the gobi
Copyright 2010 by Changming Yuan; originally published in Hando No Kuzushi
Critique by Tracy Koretsky
In last month's Critique Corner, I made this fairly audacious statement: "Even more than repetition, rhythm, or rhyme, it is metaphor that distinguishes poetry from every other type of writing." I say audacious because, from the bulk of our mail here at Winning Writers, it is clear that most emerging writers believe that poetry equals repetition, either of sound—in other words, rhyme—or as phrase. This is a misconception.
What is true is that, while metaphor is the logic of poetry—its way of thinking, if you will—repetition is its most powerful device. Surely, that explains why it is immediately noticed and most frequently emulated. But, as with anything powerful, repetition must be handled with care.
One poet who does so artfully is Canadian Changming Yuan, author of Chansons of a Chinaman (Leaf Garden Press, 2009) and Politics and Poetics (Lambert Academic Publishing, 2009), a widely-published writer who, this month, has contributed two poems organized by repetition for us to compare and contrast.
Let's begin with what these poems don't do. They do not repeat the phrase without evolution in meaning. This is the single most common error emerging poets make.
Repetition of a phrase only works when the phrase morphs or takes on shades. This may be achieved as a change in context, as we will see in Yuan's poems, or through grammar, as we saw in Janet Butler's triolet, "Design", featured in the November 2009 Critique Corner. In some cases, the repeated phrase can drive the narrative, as in the "six hundred" from Tennyson's famous poem "The Charge of the Light Brigade" . No matter how it is applied, what is essential to understand is that effective repetition is not static. Misused it can easily overwhelm a poem, render it predictable and soon, dull.
One way that all of these poems evolve their repetitions is through variation. The phrases are not repeated strictly, though enough elements are retained to make the pattern obvious. It is not always necessary to vary the repetition of a phrase, though a great deal—possibly the majority—of well-made, repetition-reliant contemporary poems do. Such variance surprises the ear and holds the reader's interest.
Moving a poem that relies upon strict repetition is much harder to do (and impressive when it happens). One tip: keep the poem short. If you have a many-stanzaed poem built around an exact repetition, consider breaking it into several differently-titled short poems.
Notice the length of Yuan's poems. Notice too, that in "Night of Sky", Yuan does not attempt to extend a single meaning through every repetition of the phrase. Rather, he uses the phrase to organize three distinct metaphors.
Only the initial words are repeated, that is "night of sky in..." Yuan then creates a pattern with the remainder. That is, in the first and third stanzas, the phrase is completed by the definite article "the" followed by a single syllable word beginning with the letter "s". Each is completed by a comma plus a two-syllable word.
The similarity in the construction of these two lines form a bookend surrounding the more greatly varied second stanza in which the phrase is followed by a personal pronoun, a dash (a longer pause than a comma) and a single-syllable word, as if the extra pause given to the dash accounts for the rhythmic beat given to a syllable. Observe that the noun following the phrase in stanzas one and three uses a long vowel, whereas the second stanza uses a soft one.
To further fulfill this graceful balance, Yuan's final repetition of the phrase in stanza three repeats twice within itself by beginning and ending the line with "night", as well as his almost hypnotic use of "sky in the sky". This line is an excellent demonstration of one of the chief functions of repetition—strong emphasis. To modify "night" with "deep night" is simple, stirring, and universally affecting.
Taken as a whole, however, the poem proves the true power of repetition: music. Read the poem aloud and you are practically singing. The ear will always respond to pattern.
I could continue to discuss this fine piece: its careful sound correspondences that lead to more music; the way it moves from its metaphoric framework into the personal, finally bringing the two together in its resolution; how its metaphors are extended through the use of a diction family—but as this is an essay dedicated to the use of repetition, I will instead turn our attention now to "East vs. West".
Here repetition is used to organize a comparison. What one notices first and foremost is the initial phrase and its inversion. However, a bit of deeper analysis reveals that the grammatical structures of the two stanzas are just about identical—a more nuanced method of repetition. Notice that in each stanza the fourth line begins with "to", that "bricks" is the second word of each second line. The effort to parallel the two walls is supported by these choices and made obvious. Too obvious, in my personal opinion. Repetition is, after all, a powerful device—always noticeable. Used here, where it is not meant to "sing", it feels, to me, a bit forced, or at the very least, intellectual as opposed to musical.
That said, creating a parallel grammatical structure is a compelling way to imbue a poem with dignity. Far more subtle than strict phrase repetition, it nevertheless reinforces meaning in much the same way. If you have a poem that uses strict repetition, one way you might consider revising is to create many fewer resoundings of the phrase, and more grammatical parallelism.
In the case of "East vs. West", one revision might be to cut the first line of each stanza or to leave only one of the two closely-related words, perhaps a different one in each. I suspect the poet might believe that much of the art of the piece is bound in the fine distinction between the two forms of the word, but the effect upon the reader is to command so much attention to their parsing that the rest of the poem is slighted.
So strong is repetition that it can easily overpower a poem. Even just the use of the word in a different form is enough to alert the reader to pattern. Respect repetition and your poems will be elegant and memorable.
Where could poems like "Night of Sky" and "East vs. West" be submitted? The following contests may be of interest:
Wild Leaf Press Annual Poetry Contest
Entries must be received by April 30
Small press based in New Haven offers prizes up to $1,000 and publication in annual anthology for unpublished poems
Writer's Digest Annual Writing Competition
Postmark Deadline: May 2
Competitive contest for poetry and several prose genres from Writer's Digest, a leading publisher of directories and advice books for writers; top prize across all genres is $3,000, plus prizes up to $1,000 in each genre
Poetry on the Lake Competition
Postmark Deadline: May 15
Prizes up to $400 for unpublished poems, sponsored by the annual 3-day Poetry on the Lake festival on Lake Orta in Italy; 2011 suggested theme is "Stone"
These poems and critique appeared in the April 2011 issue of Winning Writers Newsletter (subscribe free).
Night Talks
By Terri Kirby Erickson
When one would wake in the night, the other
followed. Then, in their bed, next to their window
that was always open, my mother and father
would talk to the sound of cars going by,
the hum of streetlights, the occasional bark
of a neighbor's dog. They spoke of high school
dances, family vacations, raising children,
being grandparents. And their faces, soft
with age and sleep, were hidden in the dark,
so they could speak at last of their lost son,
without any need to shield each other from
that pain. It must have been a relief to unpack
the shared sadness they courageously carried,
to put it down, if only for an hour. It was like
I could hear them from my own bed
across town, as I slipped into a deeper sleep,
reassured and comforted by their beloved
familiar voices echoing among the stars.
First published in ONE ART Poetry Journal
Nixon Under the Bodhi Tree and Other Works of Buddhist Fiction
Innovative collection of short stories that integrate Buddhist precepts into contemporary settings. Some of the pieces use form as well as content to explore Buddhist concerns with present awareness and change.
No Ashes in the Fire
By Darnell L. Moore. This passionate, eye-opening memoir chronicles the author's coming of age as a black gay man in Camden, NJ, his activism with the Movement for Black Lives, and his maturing understanding of his parents' troubled marriage. Moore places his personal story in the context of structural oppression in Camden's history, and shows the extraordinary resilience and devotion of black families under pressure.
No Loneliness
A sacred quiet permeates this debut poetry collection, winner of the 2009 FutureCycle Poetry Book Prize. Abandoned barns are Cone's churches; the steady rhythms of farm work, his liturgy. The birth of a daughter is both miracle and memento mori, a sweet paradox held together in an extended lyric poem that envisions poetry as a transmission of love across generations.
No RSVP
He won't worry about how to help,
what tie to wear with which shirt color,
how center pieces fit with dishware,
if gifts might be necessary. She
doesn't care in which chair he may sit,
should a gravy spill blot his clothing,
if such worry's worth it. Thoughtlessly
guests resume games throughout the evening,
take dessert, crumbs dropping to carpet,
during her home vigil. Still she
did plan space for him in an event
knocks upon her door materialize,
should it freeze in hell. He looked a damn fool
lying in sand without a face, breath-
less, with arm and leg remaining, no,
not even requesting vacation,
leaving quite unannounced. What matters
to anybody; who now could care?
In spite, he should've shown! For she, sweet
hostess, shall greet no gentle-caller,
table-head, soldier, friend nor lover.
Copyright 2006 by Ron Dean
Critique by Jendi Reiter
This month's critique poem, Ron Dean's "No RSVP", subtly employs irony and misdirection to channel our outrage at the intrusion of violent death into our carefully constructed lives. By pretending that a dinner-party faux pas is the most important thing about this soldier's absence, the poem mocks the narcissism and misplaced priorities that permit war to continue.
"No RSVP" reminded me of a famous war poem, Arthur Rimbaud's "Le Dormeur du Val" (English translation). Both poems set a scene that initially appears benign, to heighten the reader's shock and sense of wrongness when death breaks in. We're tricked into complaining against the writer for ruining a pretty picture, only to realize that we may be perpetuating ugliness by refusing to see it.
Social conventions in "No RSVP" are untrustworthy, inadequate to bear direct conversation about the hostess' loss. At first, we think we're hearing about a well-adjusted couple who are above arguing about trivia such as place settings and gravy spills. How gracious they are to one another, we might say. But these opening lines were meant sarcastically, and like strangers at a party, we were not "insiders" enough to understand the story beneath the story. Of course they can't worry about these things—he is dead, and she will never see him at her table again. What seemed like evidence of their freedom is actually a sign of their powerlessness.
The poem mocks human attempts at graciousness and order, even going so far as to call the young man undignified in death ("He looked a damn fool/lying in sand without a face")—perhaps a dark pun on "loss of face" as a term for a social gaffe. Yet I never felt the author was being mean-spirited. Rather, he gives voice to our feelings of frustration, humiliation and helplessness before death's lack of care for what we treasure.
Whether or not the guests are truly thoughtless, the bereaved hostess cannot help resenting them for being absorbed in life's ordinary details, which the soldier's death has put into such stark perspective for her. She is angry at him, too, for dying without even a chance to say goodbye. As a description of this lack of closure, the ironic understatement of the phrase "no RSVP" harshly reminds us that we are not entitled to any advance notice from the Grim Reaper. On one level, we know it is absurd to be offended that death sets no value on our lives and loves, but on another level, we cannot shake the feeling that they nonetheless have infinite value. "What matters/to anybody; who now could care?//In spite, he should've shown!"
I liked the courtly, old-fashioned cadence and vocabulary of the last lines ("sweet hostess"... "gentle-caller"... "friend nor lover"). It was like an acknowledgment that the rituals of civilization, however insufficient to save our lives, are still worthwhile to help us make sense of our losses. The tenderness of these lines also softened what could otherwise have been too cynical a poem.
Where could a poem like "No RSVP" be submitted? These upcoming contests may be of interest:
GSU Review Annual Writing Contest
Postmark Deadline: March 4
Recommended contest from Georgia State University offers $1,000 each for poetry and fiction; prestigious judges. Email Jody Brooks for details
Florida Review Editors' Awards
Postmark Deadline: March 15
Prizes of $1,000 each for poetry, fiction and essays from a well-regarded journal; note new deadline (formerly February 15)
National Federation of State Poetry Societies Awards
Postmark Deadline: March 15
Prizes from $25 to $1,500 in 50 contest categories, including open-theme awards
This poem and critique appeared in the February 2006 issue of Winning Writers Newsletter (subscribe free).
No Salvage
The first time I married
we lived in the woods,
a spot clear enough
for a sixty foot trailer.
At night, we heard
bobcats scream. Our lab,
Sonia, whimpered, took refuge
in a break in the underpinning.
My husband shot targets
from the back door. I tried once,
the recoil of the .357 magnum
pushing my arm past my ear
like a starting gun.
Later, ducking thrown dishes, I ran,
watched from the Home Stretch Inn
as a wrecker hauled the steel trap away,
the frame sprung in the middle,
both sides pulled apart.
Copyright 2010 by Barb McMakin
Critique by Tracy Koretsky
"If you don't know where you are, you don't know who you are," wrote that famous poet from Kentucky, the conservationist and contemporary transcendentalist, Wendell Berry. He was referring to the powerfully—even viscerally—expressive, if hard to define, quality that poets refer to as "a sense of place."
This month Critique Corner will look at a fine example of how a new Kentucky poet, Barb McMakin, has evoked that quality in "No Salvage", part of her just-released collection Digging Bones from Finishing Line Press.
"No Salvage" is a compact piece, fewer than a hundred words. From them, three images evoke a sense of place. Each earns its keep.
Most of the first stanza is given to "woods/a spot clear enough/ for a sixty foot trailer" establishing the importance of place in this poem. It is a pellucid description. It gives enough information for almost any reader to conjure a picture. For an American, the word "trailer" carries connotations of class and transience. It is a laden word.
Later she uses the proper noun, "The Home Stretch Inn". This is a clearly readable regionalism for a certain sort of roadside bar/motel near a woods in that part of the U.S.A. But this is a poem, so diction counts more than specifics. McMakin could have chosen any name. With "Home Stretch Inn" she contrasts "home" to "trailer", while at the same time, the phrase "home stretch"—the last leg of a race—makes a sort of witty rejoinder to the starting gun in the previous stanza.
Bobcat is another regionalism; the same cat is called wildcat or lynx elsewhere. While Kentucky's "Bob" screams, the more exotically named "Sonia" whimpers, providing an audio track for the reader's sense of place. Sonia is a symbol for what this couple shares, as she seeks safety within this frightening setting beneath the "break in the underpinning".
This is muscular writing: words chosen to do more than one thing. McMakin has multiple reasons to support every detail selected that also pertains to scene. Each contributes thematically. Each contributes to the poem's coherence. There is nothing esoteric about them; they are not named flora or proper nouns. She does not list. Her choices are more subtle and far more integral to the poem as a whole.
Toward revision I would suggest a reconsideration of the line breaking. One method to test whether a poem might not be achieving its most effective line breaks is to look at the words that begin all the lines and also those that end them. Are all the power words—the verbs and nouns—at one end or the other? Same question for the supporting words, prepositions, for example.
"No Salvage" provides a strong model of diction chosen to operate on a number of levels. Perhaps there are some line breaks that might do the same.
Take line seven. If it ended with "in," McMakin could underscore the repetition of two final lines of the second stanza. The refrain of "in, in, in" is already present. Reinforcing it could be a choice.
More importantly though, line breaks can be exploited to heighten drama or suspense. What if the line ended with "shot"? Or "ducking"? Then, for the briefest pause, the reader would ask, "Shot what?" "Ducked what?" This is the suspension and resolution discussed in the April 15, 2010 Critique Corner as the function of the third line of a haiku.
Another way a line break can operate expressively is by changing the tone. If line ten ended in "tried", you might not only have suspense as in the previous examples, but also the emotional implication of resignation.
While these might or might not affect one's reading, what is indisputable is that this author was able to make every word count in this unsettling poem.
Where could a poem like "No Salvage" be submitted? The following contests may be of interest:
Kentucky State Poetry Society Contests
Postmark Deadline: June 30
Local poetry society offers prizes up to $100 in open category, plus smaller prizes for poems with various themes and styles, including formal poetry and humor
Narrative Magazine Annual Poetry Contest
Entries must be received by July 18
Competitive award offers prizes up to $1,500 plus publication in this high-profile print and online journal of narrative poetry and prose
Naugatuck River Review Narrative Poetry Contest
Entries must be received by September 1; don't enter before July 1
Well-regarded journal of narrative poetry offers prizes up to $1,000 plus publication for winner and numerous runners-up; enter online only
These poems and critique appeared in the June 2010 issue of Winning Writers Newsletter (subscribe free).
