Poets! Let’s have some fun!
It is a rare opportunity, publishing with independent passion and fire burning behind you, especially when self publishing, which is why we introduced the concept of ‘Semi-Self-Publishing‘, so that no one has to go it alone. Besides, there are a lot of sharks out there waiting to eat your words and digest them before accumulating profit of their own.
Our revolution started long before you arrived here, and it began with an endeavour to balance the profiting scales in the direction of artists, of the creatives with the talent that makes the money. As we all know, poets, much like artists, may struggle to make a living from the creative process, we just happen to think that we have a better shot at it when we rise together.
The rEvolution has been and gone, what will you do with the energy? Well, poets, we know what we do, don’t we? We write.
Poets have been doing it for millennia, making insides move with words. We adore this poem, nabbed by the creators of Godless, an excellent, albeit violent series about what happens when you mess with a town of cowgirls! May we present, for your enjoyment and perhaps a little inspiration, ‘Tis a Fearful Thing, by Rabbi Chaim Stern:
The constant evolutions of this changing world will mean many different things, perhaps 100,000 things. What do these many things mean to you?
For Ana Maria Santuario, her ‘revolution writing‘ was birthed from immense pain and anger, from injustice, but it was also seeded by a heart of perpetual hope, faith in a greater good, and trust in destiny. She has offered up three poems to kick off the anthology, but who knows, we, together, might produce ten anthologies devoted to a written rEvolution in the end. Let’s see what happens, favouring The Unknown, we try not to plan too far ahead, and are keen to see what evolves out of this country, creatively speaking.
May the beauty balance the pain, may mirrors of similarity and the familiar console and confirm, may art tend to the spirit.
These poems have been donated from the yet to be published, ‘The Invisible War’, a war lived by ‘The Self’, in a room full of spinning thoughts and words. Sometimes, the revolution that follows is also lived within you, and always, that is okay:
Oh, but the end of dreaming…
Oh, dreams, beautiful dreams,
Why do you elude me so?
Where do you dwell, but within a limitless mind’s eye?
Why do you live in the ether, in the swirls of time,
But never space?
Oh, dear dreamer who dreams, are the spells you cast,
To forever bring light to within, but ne’er without?
Dreams, you fade so, and I watch them fade too,
Those you imagined you’d save.
Oh, but where to find peace, but in the end of dreaming?
In the death of the dreamer who dreamed,
That beauty could save this ugly world.
A Silent Rebellion
I am delighted by this song,
Of defiance found in silence.
In existing.
No Woman’s Land.
Empty is the world after war,
Not many linger on the fringes,
Of a beaten and bloodied path.
No man’s land.
No man’s land.
The space between life and death.
We have time…
Change takes time, writing takes longer. Words sit in time and space, some find roots enough to stand in the lifetime of tree and forest, others become clouds that drift upwards and away from the world. Beyond our hands, we know not the destination of the word, but we write them anyway…
Why? Whhhy?
Exactly. Ex-actly.
Do not rush yourself, we aren’t going anywhere, we are right where we’re supposed to be, at the very beginning.
Ready to submit a poem?
POETRY CHANGES PEOPLE, WHETHER THEY KNOW IT OR NOT.
Alas, a poet’s relationship is primarily with themselves and what ends up on the page, poetry then belongs to a relationship the reader has with their own self; paper and words rest between the two, the poet and the reader, hanging restlessly in the air as unanswered questions.
