Poetry Business: Free Poetic Challenges & the Hidden Value of Comments

Autumn Landscape (Paysage d'automne)

In the Mind’s Eye

Sometimes we see
Things that will be —
A memory
Of tomorrow

Sometimes we find
It warm and kind
Sometimes our mind
Fills with sorrow

So some sweet day
In June or May
Bathed in sunrays
We remember

How you and I
Share burnt good-byes
Beneath the skies
Of November

Sasha A. Palmer

  • The above poem’s written in response to WD rhupunt challenge. There’s still time to enter: Deadline 11:59 p.m. (Atlanta, GA time) on February 28, 2018. WD Poetic Form challenges are free, and the winning poems (sometimes including a runner-up or two) are featured in Writer’s Digest magazine as part of the Poetic Asides column.

It often pays off to read comments to posts. Thinking of submitting your poetry to journals? Not crazy about submission fees? Check out this list of “younger, hungrier” journals provided by Joe Cottonwood in a comment thread on The Passive Voice site:

  • “Allegro, Ink Sweat & Tears, Literary Nest, MOON magazine, Nature Writing, Peacock Journal, Plum Tree Tavern, Poetry Breakfast, Rat’s A** Review, Red Eft Review, Roanoke Review, Snapdragon, Third Wednesday, Verse Virtual, San Pedro River Review, Pure Slush, Freshwater, Stoneboat, Muddy River Poetry Review, Red River Review, Gyroscope, Uppagus, Halfway Down the Stairs, Forage, Potomac Review, Slipstream, Picaroon… All these journals require no submission fee; all have some excellent undiscovered poets (and a few clunkers, but then so does the New Yorker).”

Got a name or two to add to this list? Share in the comments.

Happy writing, submitting, and getting published.

If you enjoyed this post, do press “like” and “share” buttons — thank you.

Image: Pierre-Auguste Renoir. Autumn Landscape (Paysage d’automne), c. 1884. Oil on canvas (later mounted to fiberboard), Painting: 25 9/16 x 21 1/4 in. (65 x 54 cm) Overall (with secondary support): 26 1/4 x 22 3/8 in. (66.7 x 56.8 cm). BF933. Public Domain.

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Poetic Form: Rhupunt

In the Mind’s Eye

Sometimes we see
Things that will be —
A memory
Of tomorrow

Sometimes we find
It warm and kind
Sometimes our mind
Fills with sorrow

So some sweet day
In June or May
Bathed in sunrays
We remember

How you and I
Share burnt good-byes
Beneath the skies
Of November

 

The first WD Poetic Form Challenge of 2018 is underway. Try your hand at rhupunt!

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)

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