The Truth about Snails. Collected Poems by JD DeHart.

Editors Note: About the Author
 
In 2014, over the course of some snow days, I put together a collection that would become The Truth About Snails. At the time, most of the writing I was getting to was speculative and science fictional (I guess that’s a word) in nature. So the first collection of poetry I put together reflected this.
 
Poems were inspired by years as a comic book reader and sci-fi fan. They were not fan fiction, really, but reflected larger themes of science fiction and fantasy that I enjoyed.
 
This is the text that appears on the back of the book:
 
“Ordinary objects take on a new form, and myths become real and move next door in the verses contained in this collection. Whether it is a recasting of the myth of Sisyphus, or the titular truth about the origin of our shell-bearing planet dwellers, each poem offers a new view of an old friend. Much of the writing was inspired by the comic books and science fiction, and on concepts beyond the scope of the real world, and cast firmly in the supernatural.”
 
My hope is that this book can be the first of many. I am already at work on a second collection, which is out for review now, as well as a variety of articles, reviews, and prose works. I reprint some of my favorite poems at jddehartfeaturepoems.blogspot., write reviews and post them at http://dehartreadingandlitresources.blogspot.com/, and tweet @jd_dehart.
 
Whether you check out this chapbook collection, a future book, or just read my work around the web, I appreciate the read!
 
The Truth About Snails is now available both on Amazon and Red Dashboard, the publisher’s website at http://cms.reddashboard.com/j-d-dehart/
 
 
Vigilante
 
 
Pardon me for attempting to be
some kind of hero or otherwise
savior figure. My mistake.
Pardon the garish appearance
of the costume I crafted (it was
a last minute low budget choice)
and pardon my lack of sophisticated
intelligence, weaponry, or astounding
martial arts skills. I am just a guy
who used to read comics, wanted to be
somebody’s emblem, and now find
the feeling of this cape rather awkward.
 
 

 
 
Bio:
JD DeHart is a writer and teacher. His poems have recently appeared in Dime Show Review and Cacti Fur.

 
 
Cartoon-Molecules/paperback/Robin Ouzman Hislop
 
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Press Release Cartoon Molecules Collected Poems by Robin Ouzman Hislop



Cartoon Molecules is a new volume of collected poems by the poet Robin Ouzman Hislop, who is 
also editor of this Poetry Life & Times site at Artvilla.com. This volume attempts to engage 
its reader in the context of crisis the human race encounters in its struggle for survival, 
from both existential and surreal perspectives, as well as introducing themes innovated by its
author as an exploration in poetics.

  





 

Proem

Cartoon molecules 

Tweedledum & TweedledeeWhat makes us human?”

ditto - what does not add up
dum          what does not minus down

ditto - we know not what we do
dee         that's what makes a story

ditto - communications are a can of worms
dum         so sayeth the decree of the fates

ditto - time's a gulping mocker
dee         as the crow flies

ditto - entelechy is the dream of becoming
dum         in a kick ass belonging

ditto - art arises out of our ignorance of materia
dee         dreaming us into existence

ditto - a necessary illusion to dream ourself 
dum         into existence 

ditto - a hegemony of symmetry invades 
dee         once a wilderness 

Tweedledum & TweedledeeChaos becomes cartoon molecules”

 
 

                                                  Cartoon-Molecules/paperback/Robin Ouzman Hislop
 
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Robin Ouzman Hislop and Antonio Martínez Arboleda Transforming with Poetry

 
The poets read their work in “Life, Books and Songs”, which took place in Casa Colombiana, Leeds, on 30 March 2017. Antonio introduces poems in English and Spanish, some of them from his book “Los viajes de Diosa” (2015) (The Travels of Goddess). https://www.facebook.com/losviajesded… Robin Ouzman Hislop reads extracts from “All the Babble of the Souk” (2016), written in Spain, England and Morocco. https://www.goodreads.com/book/show/2…

 

Vamp Queen Rocks Morbid Fandom. A Poem by Peter Magliocco

 

They do not bless the rose but the thorns
hanging over her portrait
tonight in your gallery of squalor,
your face hidden by chiaroscuro
blemishes from a performer’s life:
Oh those wrinkles & shriveled crevices
 
Now adorn the snake’s mottled skin
a thousand fingers brusquely trip
the malice of broken bones over
your elusive figure the drum sways
thinking of all those closeted skeletons
third world victims rise from gravestones
 
To dance at the Rock concert for peace
& a justice they never got living
in humanity’s truncated evolution.
Their dusty clothing reeks of decay,
little children hold noses watching
this massive dance of desperation
 
As Tove Lo sings them finally to sleep
the night watchman rubs his eyes
while cleaning crews grimly vacuum
the lost sounds of silent bodies,
the peaceful concert now
forever over, at last.
 
 

 
 

— Peter Magliocco writes from Las Vegas, Nevada, where he occasionally edits the lit-zine ART:MAG. His speculative sci-fi novel The Burgher of Virtual Eden is now available in all the usual places.

 
 
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Key of Mist. Guadalupe Grande.Translated.Amparo Arróspide.Robin Ouzman Hislop
 
goodreads.com/author/show/Robin Ouzman Hislop
http://www.aquillrelle.com/authorrobin.htm
http://www.amazon.com. All the Babble of the Souk. Robin Ouzman Hislop
www.lulu.com. All the Babble of the Souk. Robin Ouzman Hislop
https://www.amazon.com/author/robinouzmanhislop

DINING WITH THE DEAD. A Poem by Eddie Awusi

 
This is where i have come to dine.
Postmortem hanging on the menu.
A plenipotentiary of the services of worms.
Hot chitter chatter
Of stern looking trolls, pervade the enclave.
They belched after a meal of death.
Yawned and belched again, a fever in Yiddish.
Gazed at me, a clandestine intruder.
No chatter of humans, but muted conversations
Of mouthless ghosts.
Gastric acid running at the guts.
Then I knew it was the wrong company.
 

 
Eddie Awusi is a published poet from Delta state of Nigeria. He has been published in numerous magazines and anthologies. The latest being Dandelion In A Vase of Roses.

 
 
 
 
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Key of Mist. Guadalupe Grande.Translated.Amparo Arróspide.Robin Ouzman Hislop
 
goodreads.com/author/show/Robin Ouzman Hislop
http://www.aquillrelle.com/authorrobin.htm
http://www.amazon.com. All the Babble of the Souk. Robin Ouzman Hislop
www.lulu.com. All the Babble of the Souk. Robin Ouzman Hislop
https://www.amazon.com/author/robinouzmanhislop

Holes. Poem by Michael Griffith

 
Rudderless boat
Butcher, Baker, Prostitute, LLC
Should a storm wash them ashore
Deserted island,
At least they’ll all have someone to eat.
 
The flies demand their lord,
Though a lady will do just as well
So long as her promi$e$
Ring true enough
And their multi-eyed glare she can meet.
 
The boat leaks
The three try to plug the holes
Try to keep it afloat
For this island Earth
Needs them powder-dry and smelling sweet.
 
The land they came from
Is the land of their fathers
And mother Liberty is growing smaller
As they float off in their Sea of Words
And fill the holes until one will die in the heat,
One will die of deceit,
And one will rule over the flies.
 

 

 
 
Bio: Michael Griffith began writing poetry after a life-changing injury as a way for his spirit to heal as his body recuperated. His poems have appeared in Haiku Journal, Dual Coast Poetry, and Ripen the Page, as well as other online journals. He resides in central NJ. https://michaelgriffithwordpress.wordpress.com/
 
 
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Key of Mist. Guadalupe Grande.Translated.Amparo Arróspide.Robin Ouzman Hislop
 
goodreads.com/author/show/Robin Ouzman Hislop
http://www.aquillrelle.com/authorrobin.htm
http://www.amazon.com. All the Babble of the Souk. Robin Ouzman Hislop
www.lulu.com. All the Babble of the Souk. Robin Ouzman Hislop
https://www.amazon.com/author/robinouzmanhislop

SNOW MAKES THE MAD GIRL SUICIDAL (i – iv) Poems by Lyn Lifshin.

SNOW MAKES THE MAD GIRL ALMOST SUICIDAL
 
how it glazes,
seals what’s a stain
in like dirt under poly
so each foot print upstairs
glides over scars. The
cold drifts, makes a
maze of walks, tunnels
where knives could be
pointed like icicles over
the door way. No ballet
dancer with electric
pointed shoes, or a tutu
of fleece could warm
her. So slippery, her ankle
snaps while in the night
diesel trucks collide
with over turned 12
wheelers under her hair,
their undersides twitching
in smoke like zapped wasps
 
SNOW MAKES THE MAD GIRL SUICIDAL
 
gerrymandering what’s slippery into space she can’t
avoid, every part of her’s a junkie going
cold turkey, starved for heat. She shakes, a
blue spreads over her. She dreams
of bougainvillea, gardenia, figs. White’s
the color bandages, diapers, feet of the dead.
She wants jades, tourmalines, sapphires, rubies
jags of flame and teal, a gypsy swirl, castanets.
No more colorless dirge of snow burying, disguising,
but heat, a jungle rain where skin smells like
skin and locusts hum toward dawn, a gladiolus
wind, thighs luminous as bones dipped in
tinsel and glitter
 
SNOW MAKES THE MAD GIRL SUICIDAL
 
fangs of ice, too cold
for even blues to breathe.
White suffocates, a town
buried behind her wrists.
Roofs collapse, cars under
mounds like bodies the
ground was too hard to dig
into left on battlefields.
Ice crystals freeze in the air,
a halo of edges, a tilt to one
side, a falling into the daze,
into the flare of light as
glass splatters, could
blind her for good
 
SNOW MAKES THE MAD GIRL SUICIDAL
 
possibilities, freeze dried,
zapped, trapped like crystals
poisonous as HIV virus twisted
to a halo. She moves and it
moves with her, a too heavy
cologne heavy as guilt. Ease,
already frayed, freezes in the
shape of splinters. She feels
that brittle, feels herself running
toward a fire only her feet are
glued to glass. She’s a spun glass
rose bud vase in the car for days
hot water is poured into and
she cracks
 
SNOW MAKES THE MAD GIRL SUICIDAL
 
isolates, a moat of
colorlessness, barb
wire of ice. She tried
to pull from the house
of cold, but the cold
seers, burns where
she’s pressed. Scars.
The snow terrifies.
Where she stands,
too slippery to hold
her and the roof’s
about to bury her in
bed, catch her screams
like lips in lava

 
 
GROLIER BOOK STORE, CAMBRIDGE MASS
 
 
Lyn Lifshin has published over 140 books and chapbooks and edited three anthologies of women’s writing including Tangled Vines that stayed in print 20 years. She has several books from Black Sparrow books. Her web site, www.lynlifshin.com shows the variety of her work from the equine books, The Licorice Daughter: My Year with Ruffian and Barbaro: Beyond Brokenness to recent books about dance: Ballroom, Knife Edge and Absinthe: The Tango Poems. Other new books include For the Roses, poems for Joni Mitchell, All The Poets Who Touched Me; A Girl goes Into The Woods; Malala, Tangled as the Alphabet: The Istanbul Poems. Also just out: Secretariat: The Red Freak, The Miracle; Malala and Luminous Women: Enheducanna, Scheherazade and Nefertiti. web site: www.lynlifshin.com
 
 
 
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Key of Mist. Guadalupe Grande.Translated.Amparo Arróspide.Robin Ouzman Hislop
 
goodreads.com/author/show/Robin Ouzman Hislop
http://www.aquillrelle.com/authorrobin.htm
http://www.amazon.com. All the Babble of the Souk. Robin Ouzman Hislop
www.lulu.com. All the Babble of the Souk. Robin Ouzman Hislop
https://www.amazon.com/author/robinouzmanhislop

Who’s Texting Who. A Poem by Blanca Alicia Garza

 
We live in such a strange
and unkind world.
 
Where you can stand
beside a thousand people
but feel completely invisible.
 
Where a cold shiny screen
can make you feel close to
those who are far away,
but make you feel far away
to those who are closer.
 
Where conversation turns
into text, relationships are
just a status and friendship
a rivalry.
 
Where we live to work
and not work to live.
 
Where people are like zombies
staring at their phones and
completely ignoring all that
happens around them.
 
Where you can take a picture of
food while ignoring an image
of a starving child.
 
Where Family turns into strangers
and strangers into family.
 
This world is falling apart
under our own feet
Full of hatred but empty of love.
 
Welcome to the 21st Century,
where technology has
surpassed humanity.
 
(Initially published on Tuck Magazine)
 

 
Bio: Blanca Alicia Garza is from Las Vegas, Nevada. She is a nature and animal lover, and enjoys spending time writing. Some of her poems are published in the Poetry Anthology, “Moonlight Dreamers of Yellow Haze”, now available at Amazon.com. Blanca’s published work can be viewed at The Poet Community, Whispers, The Winamop Journal, Indiana Voice Journal, Tuck Magazine, Scarlet Leaf Review as well as Birdsong Anthology 2016, Vol 1.

 
 
 
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Key of Mist. Guadalupe Grande.Translated.Amparo Arróspide.Robin Ouzman Hislop
 
goodreads.com/author/show/Robin Ouzman Hislop
http://www.aquillrelle.com/authorrobin.htm
http://www.amazon.com. All the Babble of the Souk. Robin Ouzman Hislop
www.lulu.com. All the Babble of the Souk. Robin Ouzman Hislop
https://www.amazon.com/author/robinouzmanhislop