On Marketing, Short Fiction Awards, & Roundelay

Jane Friedman on marketing for authors, “You’ll be stronger if you have a multi-faceted approach.” Find out what she means.

University of Iowa Press is giving two awards for first collections of short fiction. No entry fee. Deadline: September 30. Check the guidelines, and submit.

A new poetic form challenge from Writer’s Digest. Join the roundelay fun.

Here’s my contribution:

“A Simple Song”

The shore is kind, horizon — wide
A tender breeze so gently blows
Come, take your vessel for a ride
Those swift white caps are not your foes
Our happiness — an ocean tide
That comes and goes, that comes and goes…

Come, take your vessel for a ride
Those swift white caps are not your foes
You would not hold time if you tried
Gold specks of sand between your toes
Our happiness — an ocean tide
That comes and goes, that comes and goes…

You would not hold time if you tried
Gold specks of sand between your toes
Come, sail while dazzling seas abide
The day, the hour — nobody knows
Our happiness — an ocean tide
That comes and goes, that comes and goes…

Come, sail while dazzling seas abide
The day, the hour — nobody knows
Fragile sandcastles builds a child
The setting sun so softly glows
Our happiness — an ocean tide
That comes and goes, that comes and goes…

© 2017 Sasha A. Palmer (aka Happy)

Do You Clogyrnach?

The sun’s asleep tucked in a cloud
The land — beneath the wintry shroud
On a dried out vine
Sits fiery sunshine —
A red cardinal proud.

This is one of my attempts at the form called clogyrnach.

Join the clogyrnach party over at Poetic Asides, it’s fun, and if your poem’s chosen — you’ll be published in Writer’s Digest! (Make sure to enter your poem by March 15.)

December Landays

“It (a landay) must take on one of five subjects: meena, love; jang, war; watan, homeland; biltoon, separation; and, finally, gham, which means despair or grief.”Eliza Griswold.

December Landays

Do not play games with love — you won’t win:
Love is a cheat with a marked card always up its sleeve.

The era of mercy is delayed.
The mankind fails to learn, and the bell still tolls, tolls, tolls…

Across the ocean there stands a tree
that prays for me — a leaf torn off its branch is my soul.

For what is space if we can face time,
and talk, and smile, and laugh, and lean in, and touch the screen?

There is a different kind of blue:
deeper, and broken — a shard of the yesterday skies.

©Sasha A. Palmer 2016

 

This December try your hand at Landays.

 

Last Night

field

Last night again I dreamt of you. 
You walked across the field of wheat,
And didn’t know I was there, too,
Or maybe didn’t want to know,
Or didn’t care to count to two–
You never had a knack for math.
You sailed the cooling seas of dew,
Bluebells lay crushed beneath your feet.
You walked alone, and we both knew.

 

Written for WD Magic 9 Poetic Form Challenge