I cannot express enough the love I have for the opportunity to continuously participate in submission readings and critiques for one of our nation’s most up n’ coming poetry platforms – Frontier Poetry. Over the Summer, I had the pleasure to read and critique some of the most truly amazing work I’ve read in a long time. Unfortunately, not everyone can be published – but that doesn’t negate the beauty and quality of work. Some of you I follow on here were found by me from your submissions, and your work blew me away in some shape or form.
Now, we are getting into the exciting time of the 2017 Poetry Award which will be judged by Pulitzer Prize-winning poet Tyehimba Jess. The winner of this award will not only receive publication on Frontier Poetry, but a $2,000 prize!
We have many submissions (a number of which I’m not permitted to declare), but I want everyone to know that the team at Frontier Poetry works tirelessly reading through every single word, line, and stanza in order to find the pieces we believe truly standout.
If you haven’t already submitted, feel free! – because it’s free of charge! If you’re worried you may not have the most experience in being published, that’s okay too. This is a platform specifically for emerging poets. There are many sites out there (that I shall not name) that won’t accept your hard, creative work if you haven’t been thoroughly published a dozen times over. That is not us! That is not Frontier Poetry. We encourage you to share where you’ve been published if you have been, but it is in no way a requirement.
Follow this link if you’d like to submit your work. Even if you aren’t submitting for the 2017 Poetry Award, we still take regular submissions year round, so you never have to worry about waiting for a specific date. That being said, with as many submissions as we receive, please be patient. we do read every single piece, and that takes time. If you don’t hear from someone on our team right away, don’t worry! We will get to you.
You won’t go unread!
Happy Halloween season everyone!
we were married and no one knew,
seven stacks of pancakes versus a german chocolate cake
by midnight, and a long cool woman in a black dress
mostly echo. mostly vermont maple siphoned from barns, mostly
the high end of your hand absorbing my chin, from pucker to pucker
a name lost on pickled taste buds
still kept. waiting. waiting. waiting for me to cry
from an overflowing, full mouth. I outlasted
the feminine fragments of my youth,
in bitterness, I survived
the final game of scattergories and blouses
stained in Swedish fish – I populated like orchestra
only to maintain the taste of you a commitment
without sonnet or spectacle bing cherry red Crosby
my vowels on a bulletin board in a retired apartment
and my ages
someone who wanted the same two weeks too late
a pelican and history engulfed in afterlife
we were married and no one knew
My poem The Defeat of Sophia has been published and featured on wordsdance.com for anyone interested. Please feel free to like and share the poem from the publishers site.
Also, I encourage anyone looking for places to publish to seek them out for an opportunity. They publish some inspiring written pieces as well as beautiful custom made art to go with those pieces they choose to publish.
Thank you all for your support. There is more to come soon!!
I Live in a Vision
come steep, come shroud
like your mouth I turn to prunes
decay claymation sprawled from
the back of my throat towards each earlobe
I live in a vision.
we don’t taste. we don’t die.
we don’t flip up our lids and
rollback our eyes; I live in a vision
where my palms converge to touch filtered light
and to live within a body sounds like your grandfathers
cane dragging across the linoleum —hoarding a cigarette,
a baseball cap, a bald head, a red chevy cavalier that
your sister got pregnant in because she manifested
Juniper and sighed until she was touched
I wish you knew me now.
satisfied with feminine skin alone love in axiom
an entire casket of a person feeling pregnant with neon soul
separate from stomping leaves and moldy soda mugs,
stealing watercolors and hiding journals at the top of a tree,
drinking half & half like milk and pretending I was dead in the grass,
I wish you knew me now.
I live in a vision.
We took turns exchanging earthquakes in the bathroom
Kiss me, New Mexico – the tattoo of el diablo
Spanning her back, knocking on strangers doors
Because every house looks the same
Silhouette Sophia, a gold dust turned flush when the sky
Parodies the value that paints her mouth
A placental abruption / one stanza memorized
From the bible, only spoken in Spanish and congregated like a
Love poem passing from one fingerprint to the next
It’s written all over her freckles, a constellation fish and cheap cerveza
Accented with finger-sucking Tajin she transfers to my mouth; no one
Knew she could play the cello, or liked to break into her fathers
House and steal his shoes – out of spite, she never finished anything
Other than an orgasm but her vocals were versatile and hum like lush gossip
I saw things I’ve never seen again – a crescent moon waist with doubts
and disability, abandoned and palpitating, 102 degrees of afterglow,
She still smells like her grandmothers kitchen.
I am stuck in your skin
I am stuck in your skin.
It all stops when I look at you, I am
whittled down into fractions & sea foam,
your limp eyes, a focal folly of submission
and desperation caught hiding in the way you stare
through sums of aphasiac tongues
I negate your abuse : you neglect my negation
Treat guilt like a marriage proposal, in sickness
You’re richer, and for poorer I rent fables
til’ death do us part
like atoms, the breath of matter split
in the space
between the determination on your face and
my inability to look away
Your whites are wet with the intention
to love me until I understand
you will let this kill you