I Mostly Feel Suicidal in the Morning
I Am Burning
The Ritual of Forgetting
A.J. Huffman has published thirteen full-length poetry collections, fourteen solo poetry chapbooks and one joint poetry chapbook through various small presses. Her most recent releases, Degeneration (Pink Girl Ink), A Bizarre Burning of Bees (Transcendent Zero Press), and Familiar Illusions (Flutter Press) are now available from their respective publishers. She is a five-time Pushcart Prize nominee, a two-time Best of Net nominee, and has published over 2500 poems in various national and international journals, including Labletter, The James Dickey Review, The Bookends Review, Bone Orchard, Corvus Review, EgoPHobia, and Kritya. She is also the founding editor of Kind of a Hurricane Press. http://www.kindofahurricanepress.com.
Copyright © 2017 A.J. Huffman
Untitled Remembrances of an Eye — A Penhead Press Reprint
Matthew Casey is a photographer. He was engaged in the art of snapping of pictures long before he knew it would become his passion, having traveled around the world visually documenting people and places where few outsiders have ventured. If you wish to see more samples of his work or employ his services visit his website: Matthew Casey Photography!
—Markov Chain Text—
Creating the markov prose generator is an exploration in creating original content from existing books. simply put, a text copy of a book is converted to random markov sentences. those sentences are arranged into poetry. I experimented with stanza and haiku with some surprising results.
This subject first caught my eye when twitter users reported a rump bot. this bot would take tweets from one feed and create a new original post. these posts would read as if it was the real mump.
Markov chains are not a new invention but have come to us in new easy to use python packages.
Copyright © 2017 by Erick Ai Slippersan
A good girl
A good girl, she is a sweetheart to everyone around her. She is every man’s dream, every mother’s pride. She is a trophy wife and a trophy daughter. She is the prize that everyone wants to posses and show off to the society as their personal achievement. She is a validation to: someone’s correct choice and someone’s perfect upbringing.
If we take a closer look, we can find her everywhere. She could be our mother, sister, wife, lover, batch mate or the sweet neighbor next door to whom we run in the hour of need. We all know the kind. I have known one very closely.
It is past midnight and I am sitting in front of my computer in an attempt to write down a story which is not letting me sleep. I want to comfort and heal myself by sharing the load with someone. As we know, writing is one of the best ways to express our sentiments, desires, hopes, bliss and wounds. We can write what we want and vent our feelings to strangers who wont judge.
I want to share a story; it is a story about a girl who forgets her true identity. She was busy running around people, pleasing them and getting their approval. They were the people with whom she shared her life; her teachers, family, relatives, friends, lovers. She was a busy girl; busy playing the role of a good girl. The one who is supposed to be: a good daughter, a good sister, a good friend, a good girlfriend, who is expected to keep everyones needs before hers. In the whole affair of pleasing others she forgot to please herself, she forgot who she really was. She forgot that few years back she had zeal to write, there was a budding talent which was never acknowledged as it was never shared.
In her college days she used to write small stories, personal essays, news articles, scripts, reviews. As life moved forward, she was drifted along and forced to blend with the flow. She simply forgot that she had the desire to write. No matter good, bad, average, non worthy of being published but at least she had an urge to write; and might even be recognized for it someday. As time passed, life took a different turn and things changed for her. She was occupied in taking care of trivial things, her priorities changed with the passing years. She started serving others, she became busy living up to their expectations and thought thats what she was supposed to do and be; be a good girl!
One evening she got a text from an old acquaintance who wanted to discuss a project with her. He contacted to enquire if she was still active as a writer. After receiving the text, she was startled for a moment and replied in haste, ‘Yes, I am ‘ which was a lie. She was amazed and disturbed at the same time with this text message. She was amazed because people still remember her as a person with writing skills; and disturbed because she had completely forgotten that she had a special skill. How can she let slide something of that significance, where was she lost, what was she doing all these years, what kept her occupied or what kept her away? What was she busy with that she over looked the desire to be identified. She must have been very busy indeed; yes she was truly very busy. She was busy playing the good girl.
The ambitious girl was lost becoming the good girl, the goodness took over ambition, and the desire to be accepted took over the desire to be known. She was busy living for others, as per others, in sync with others. She has always been the giver, the one with a big heart and enormous patience to adjust with the unfairness of life. She was just giving and not receiving anything in return and what happens when we put the needs of others before ours? We make them our priority and in return all we are left with is a lost identity. They start to take us for granted and it becomes a pattern, it becomes a thankless job.
We make someone our whole world only to realize that we are just a small part of their selfish world. While we have been busy serving others there was someone who was starving for our time and attention. It is our own self; we have forgotten to make time for ourselves. It is time to gear up, get up and look into the mirror, whose reflection do we get to see? Is it a reflection of someone we were or someone we are?
Such moments of realization have hit us several times in our lives; but what bring a turning point to our story are the decisions we make and the steps we take hereafter.
It is a wake-up call; we take it and change our lives or ignore it and continue to live in denial. Change is scary but if we step out of our comfort zones we can change our stories. It can give a turning a point to our lives, as it did for ‘the good girl whom I know very closely.
Preeti Singh, french language interpreter and a media professional who is engaged in writing short films and playing characters for tv series.
To see Levi’s original 2014 penhead press post, click here.
Copyright © 2014 by Levi J Mericle