From realpoetik at scn9.scn.org Sun Dec 4 07:39:16 2011 From: realpoetik at scn9.scn.org (RealPoetik Magazine) Date: Sun, 4 Dec 2011 10:39:16 -0500 Subject: [Realpoetik] MRB CHELKO Message-ID: from THE MARCH The airless blue to wake alive again place no thought no finger on that miracle life ha to get one and discover work music the snow melts reveals it's been collecting bones death I tear from my dog's throat the way we want to eat each other up the way we lick our swollen lips our chapped lips I'm alive I tell my shirt because I want to take it off when I talk about love I mean am I the only one this will need to be revised I will need to be forgiven and locked inside for some time to wake alive to sit at the table stare at an open kitchen drawer and think never close *MRB Chelko* is Assistant Editor of the unbound journal, *Tuesday; An Art Project.*She has poems in current or forthcoming issues of* Indiana Review, POOL, Washington Square, Forklift, Ohio *and *Verse Daily *among many others. Her second chapbook, *The World after Czeslaw Milosz*, is forthcoming from Dream Horse Press. -- RealPoetik www.realpoetik.org -------------- next part -------------- An HTML attachment was scrubbed... URL: From realpoetik at scn9.scn.org Sun Dec 11 07:12:25 2011 From: realpoetik at scn9.scn.org (RealPoetik Magazine) Date: Sun, 11 Dec 2011 10:12:25 -0500 Subject: [Realpoetik] MRB CHELKO [Part Two] Message-ID: from M O T H E R M A Y I have something like a mystery to solve, not that a floppy straw hat to organize the light, it falls all over me like this isn't New York you wouldn't understand, how darkly my sunglasses sit on the ground arms folded this concrete is sand no parking sign a love letter right? scrawled in lipstick in blood let's romanticize everything glare like you want me *MRB Chelko* is Assistant Editor of the unbound journal, *Tuesday; An Art Project. *She has poems in current or forthcoming issues of* Indiana Review, POOL, Washington Square, Forklift, Ohio *and *Verse Daily *among many others. Her second chapbook, *The World after Czeslaw Milosz*, is forthcoming from Dream Horse Press. -- RealPoetik www.realpoetik.org -------------- next part -------------- An HTML attachment was scrubbed... URL: From realpoetik at scn9.scn.org Sun Dec 11 06:52:54 2011 From: realpoetik at scn9.scn.org (RealPoetik Magazine) Date: Sun, 11 Dec 2011 09:52:54 -0500 Subject: [Realpoetik] CHRISTOPHER KONDRICH Message-ID: *from *CONTRAPUNTAL That beautiful melody? It is already within us Tim was sorting through his compositions we need to find a way to bring it closer to brush our end against its end, but we must remain and regardless if I am satisfied with it I have to abide by the metronome I want to study piano because in doing so I will destroy my discreteness. One is always concerned with one’s discreteness this tiresome harangue of mine, would you believe me just as I was reaching the terminus or whatever point in the mind that receives it. Listen to this, Tim said playing nothing. Do you hear what I hear I would have to do it myself with my own hands, Tim continued, sometimes I am struck, my chair a closer companion than anyone I know. *Christopher Kondrich* is the author of *Contrapuntal*, forthcoming in the Free Verse Editions poetry series. He is currently a PhD candidate at the University of Denver. -- RealPoetik www.realpoetik.org -------------- next part -------------- An HTML attachment was scrubbed... URL: From realpoetik at scn9.scn.org Sun Dec 25 08:51:15 2011 From: realpoetik at scn9.scn.org (RealPoetik Magazine) Date: Sun, 25 Dec 2011 11:51:15 -0500 Subject: [Realpoetik] A.E. Watkins Message-ID: TO CALLISTO, WHO WAS FIRST A GIRL, THEN A BEAR, THEN LATER THE BEAR CONSTELLATION If I peel back the wallpaper of this world, Callisto, will I find myself in your age? Will I be closer to you? If the crows show as chips in a pale sky, does it mean you still decorate the distance somewhere? I know here holds my face like some motel’s portrait hung in the lobby of each day, and the night’s room has curtains I pull back to see if your slow gait in stars still crosses my latest black window. Sometimes I imagine us as the sole cast in Arcady – the gods unwritten, without us. It is for spite that they spell our bodies in animals, that they turn us to wonder where we go beneath our coarse hides, our coats growing thicker with each passing winter. And your groves grow odious, my rooms in the city speak as though they don’t know me, as we walk the freshly painted halls of each year. But if I were a bear, Callisto – you among poplars, myself nearby the populace – how I would tear through this world to companion. *A.E. Watkins* is a graduate of the MFA program at Saint Mary’s College of California and currently attends Purdue University’s Graduate English Program. His first collection of poetry, *Dear, Companion*, is forthcoming from Dream Horse Press in 2012. Individual poems can be found in *Barrow Street, Copper Nickel, Denver Quarterly, Handsome, Hayden’s Ferry Review, Ninth Letter, Notre Dame Review, Verse Daily *and elsewhere. -- RealPoetik www.realpoetik.org -------------- next part -------------- An HTML attachment was scrubbed... URL: