Hi Everyone!
I just was notified that three of my poems will appear in Alaska Women Speak‘s spring issue that will make its debut late next month. All works in the spring issue center on foreign travel. My three poems: A Greeting at Imjingak, Chaos and Conformity and Bibimbap are about my stay in South Korea.
I’m delighted to take part in their magazine again. More details when the issue goes to print!
Jennifer
This poem was also published in Alaska Women Speak’s winter issue 2015. Enjoy!
If I May Speak
over my mother’s teaspoon as
it scrapes the teacup like a child
who discovers an annoying sound
it finds joyful only to do it again and again.
The words that spill over her tea,
the steam that comes off the cup,
have little meaning.
They are the same things we have talked about
each time we have tea:
the weather,
the people who have died
and the people who have not.
Each time we speak
we pretend that there is nothing
else to discuss or confess.
If I may speak,
if I could say what I wanted to say,
ask for the secrets she hides,
tell her the feelings I have inside,
would she hear me?
Would she listen?
Or would it all drown
in the liquid in her cup,
in a whirlpool of sugar
that distorts all voices,
including mine?
I am pleased to announce that my short story “The Devil and the White Room” has been accepted for publication by Down in the Dirt for its July/Aug 2016 issue. This is a flash fiction piece I wrote for a horror-themed submissions call. Glad to see it made its way to a home. Will post more details when it goes up on the site!
OK, so this is late. It is barely Thursday Alaska time, but hey, it is still Thursday!
This one was published in Peeking Cat Poetry in October 2015 (8th issue). Yes, it is about my little girl. No, really I am not turning her into a Russophile, but really, would it be a bad thing if I did? Ha ha. Just like mama! 🙂
Da!
My ten month baby girl says “da”
like a good Russian comrade.
Her hands flap in the air, beat her chest
with the conviction of Lenin presenting
his April Theses in Petrograd in 1917.
I tell my husband “da” counts as a word,
as it means “yes” in Russian.
He shakes his head: in English
it is short for “dada” or “daddy.”
Yet, he knows his Russophile wife better:
You’ve been speaking Russian to her, he insists.
I’ve been too tired to speak to her in anything
other than English, I tell him.
But that is not true:
ne pravda.
I have read her tales of babushki and koshki—
Grandmothers and cats—
because it interests me.
Makes reading to a seemingly disinterested
audience easier, more productive.
Yet, I wonder, as she sits in my lap,
her corn silk hair thick like mine,
her lips open wide,
her hands clap patty-cake,
as I reach for the bottle.
Bringing it closer to her,
I pause before I can say khochesh and
use English instead:
want your bottle?
She smiles with her two front teeth,
“Da!”
Happy New Year, Everyone!
First of all, I want to thank you so much for being a part of my blog and supporting my work. I am humbled to have my blog supporters. Your support encourages me. It means a lot to me. Thank you so much!
I also want to extend a great big thanks to all the editors and journals that I have worked with over the past year (and into 2016, as well!). I have had 23 acceptances this year. 17 of which were published in 2015; 6 will be published in 2016.
If you have a moment, please check out these great editors and their journals.
Thank you so much for allowing me to be a part of your year. I hope to share more writing with everyone in 2016!
Creative Nonfiction:
“The Important Things” – Alaska Women Speak – Winter 2015 issue
Fiction:
How to Eat a Bagel – 50-word Stories – Sept 15, 2015
Poetry:
“Femininity” – Cirque – Summer 2015
“Sitting in the Bathroom” – Yellow Chair Review – July 2015
“A Happy Poem” – Eunoia Review – August 2015
“Willow Rebuilds” “Spectators” “Fire Angels” – Alaska Women Speak– Fall 2015
“Dark Clouds Descend Low” – Three Line Poetry – Issue 33 – Sept 2015
“Da!” – Peeking Cat Poetry – 8th issue – Oct 2015
“Three times my baby’s stroller passes by” – Eunoia Review – Oct 2015
“Babushka’s Samovar”, “If I May Speak”, and “High Tea and Fancy Things” – Alaska Women Speak – Winter 2015 Issue
“Joanna’s Child” – Cirque – Winter Solstice issue 2015.
“Away with the Bitterness!” – Peeking Cat Poetry – 9th Issue – Dec 2015
“Away with the Bitterness!” – Alaska Shorts (49 Writers blog) – December 22, 2015
“The Reflex”, “The Drop Off”, and “Crossed Eyes” – Eskimo Pie – Feb 2016
“The Fragments You Carry”, “The Fireweed Dies”, and “Crabapples” – 13 Chairs – Spring 2016
I’m pleased to announce that 3 of my poems have been accepted for publication in 13 Chairs‘ first issue, due out in Spring of 2016, published straight out of JBER. I am excited to be a part of this new journal. Accepted poems include The Fragments You Carry, Crabapples, and The Fireweed Dies.
More details to come as I receive them!
Jennifer
Last post of the day, seriously. When do I make all of these posts, lol.
This one was published by 50-Word Stories back in September. Enjoy!
And, Happy Holidays, everyone!
How to Eat a Bagel
Eat like this, mama demands, nibbling the bagel like a caged gerbil with a toilet paper roll.
The boy giggles, taking his like a harmonica, raises it like a singer reaches for that final high note. Cream cheese squirts out for the audience’s enjoyment.
She rubs her expectant belly. “Kids.”
Hey Everyone!
Cirque‘s winter solstice issue is up! My poem “Joanna’s Child” is on page 63. Check it out! Issues are available via subscription, as well as Barnes & Noble here in Anchorage, as well as other stores. Take a look!
This one was published in Alaska Women Speak‘s 2015 Fall Issue: Fireweed theme.
Fire Angels
Girl with corn silk curls twirls
in the meringue sundress into
a field of fireweed.
Her hands slap the magenta petals
like a propeller, spinning the fluffy
cotton until she collapses,
but does not stop,
making fire angels in the weeds.
This one was published in Alaska Women Speak‘s 2015 Fall Issue: Fireweed theme.
Spectators
The cracked windshield, blotted with rain,
streaked with each wiper blade pass, as
we wasted time with a drive past the Chugach
Mountains, thick with gray cloud afros,
adorning each peak.
Miles of guard rail sheltered
our route from the swollen Eagle River just feet away
until the gray broke for a brief patch of fireweed
and a moose cow and calf,
their red-brown fur
nestled against the magenta petals
as they waited along the roadside:
spectators to our rainy day parade.
J.L. Smith 