Ocean Avenue Still Life, by Alan Catlin
They are coming at an incredible rate
of speed down Ocean Avenue, running the
caution light by the Nazarene church, cranking
it up all the way into the highest gear.
They don’t see the elderly woman backing
her white Dodge out of her driveway into
a road they no longer control as she shifts
forward, they hit the curb, four kids in a
top down convertible, taking out the shrubbery,
small trees, radio blaring WABC Big Dan Ingram
Rock 77 Top 40 tunes to the telephone pole
that ends it all.
in the abyss, by C Ra McGuirt
at your request,
i used every trick
to make you come,
& i submit
that you submitted
completely,
but only your
eyes
followed me
home.
jury trial rape, by Cheryl Townsend
Saying revealing clothes
on a woman is an invitation
to rape is like saying macho
clothes on a man is an
invitation to murder
How a city Gets Lost, by Mary Winters
At first no one notices.
The latest census shows
some minor population
shifts
they’re called. Just
different ethnicities and
age groups moving around.
Then one or two blocks
just here and there get
boarded up in their entirety -
“major renovation.”
Next the zoo animals die off
and are never replaced. One
morning you notice not dirt but dust
on the cars parked on your block.
The bus no longer stops on
your corner. Grocery stores
leave town; your son comes to
you quiet one morning and says
Mommy every night I have a
funny dream about a suitcase.
A suitcase under my bed.
egg drop soup, or a response to a love letter, by Janet Kuypers
“I think of us holding hands,
walking up the beach,
in the afternoon rays of the Grecian sun,
to a sleepy whitewash and cobblestone village...” J. Z.
I decided that I want to make you dinner someday.
Shrimp, bean sprouts, rice, teppan steak,
egg drop soup, tea...
Why?
Oh, I don’t know.
I just thought you’d like it.
I don’t know why that surprises you.
At work I saw a little boy, about five years old.
He had a shy look to his face,
the kind of look that tells you
that you - and only you -
are his best friend.
I told a coworker that I’ll have a lot of kids one day -
“Yeah, but I’ll buy ‘em. I hear there’s a lot of money
in the baby market.”
But inside I only hoped
that one day I’d have a baby boy
as beautiful as he.
I think about that a lot now -
the future, children -
and how one day your son will grow up
to be as wonderful a man as you.
I was with a friend today
as she was holding her one month old baby.
It’s amazing how maternal we women get,
but when she asked me if I wanted to hold the baby
a surge of joy,
a belief that something so wonderful
couldn’t be happening to me,
and a shock that the mother
trusted me with her child
went through me.
And when I held the new life in my arms,
when I held up his head in the palm of my hands,
the thought that one day this may be mine
moved me to the point of tears.
Holding that baby helped me understand
that it’s not just that my life is getting better,
and coming together,
but that one day all of the pieces
will fall into place
and that my family -
and my life -
will be complete.
You can think of the Grecian sun,
but I care to think about all of the other days
I could share with you.
Not the days that create memories,
but the days that run into one another
and create the mood to one’s life.
I think of arriving home from work
to start dinner -
the egg drop soup first, then the rice -
and when the shrimp is almost done
you walk through the door,
take off your coat, greet me with a kiss.
You boil the water and let the tea steep
as you say,
“You did all of this for me?”
But I don’t know why that surprises you.
I just thought you’d like it.
The Working Late Man in a Grey Summer Suit, by Alan Catlin
No one knows how he could have ended up
down there, two long flights from where he
should have been, a father of six kids, ten
years old and younger, not robbed or assaulted,
a cab ride away from home, body blending into
concrete beneath the Lynbrook B track,
the pigeons rutting above him in the cracked
spaces between portals, staining the sidewalks,
the parked cars with their white marks;
the damp smell of urine, of grille fried White Castle
hamburger meat, grease stained french fried
containers and Do Not Litter Boxes, among the
garbage, the working late man in a grey summer
suit with a crushed skull, broken glasses, is
buried on page 19 of a Long Island Daily Press.
incest victim, by C Ra McGuirt
dear ladies:
i’m much more
than sorry
that you were
sexually abused,
but it isn’t a license
to abuse me emotionally.
if you disagree,
i wish you well
without me.
magic worms, by Cheryl Townsend
She took his sloppy dick
into her hands as if a baby
bird gliding fingers and warm
cooing across the accordion flesh
watching it grow thick and long
before her very eyes squealing
with delight It’s magic then he
pushed her back and fucked five
years of innocence clear out of
Jesse’s heart
Abandoned City, by Mary Winters
One day it was decided:
time to go. Instinct to
move on hit - sudden, resolute,
absolute. So Mayas dropped
everything. Left behind
the stair-step temples, the
giant carved heads, the weavings,
the pottery, the grooved stones for
grinding corn - older people
who refused to leave, who stayed
behind to tend the jungle.
The mystery of departure: to
leave it all without a clue -
their going tried to better death,
to imitate the end: use a
homeopathic cure to forestall it;
fend it off with sacrifice -
toys and beds and houses.
having company over, by Janet Kuypers
I was walking through the living room. My parents had company over. I was young. I could walk, but I could barely speak. There were maybe six or eight people over. Half of them were sitting at the bar. We had a bar. My parents would always sit there when they had company over. My father would stand behind the bar, like he was a bartender. He looked like he controlled everything. The lights were low. The carpeting was multi-colored - it was black with some different shades of brown and a little grey and white in it. In the light it looked like there were things in the carpet, like it wasn’t clean.
I was little. I don’t remember faces. I remember knee-caps. That’s all a one-year old sees. I remember walking through the living room, between the bar chairs and the white couches. The bar chairs looked like barrels with red leather where the seat would be. The white couches looked old. They were my grandmother’s. As I was walking, a woman came in front of me. For some reason I think she had short blonde hair, but all I really remember about her is that she was fat. She had fat knee-caps.
She asked me when my birthday was. I said, “June.”
I remember that she got excited that I told her my birthday was in June. She turned toward the bar and started telling people that I just told her that my birthday was in June. I couldn’t understand what she was getting so excited about.
oriental, by Janet Kuypers
Years ago Chinese women bound their feet with cloths, forcing them to remain the foot of a child. The smaller the foot, the higher the class, the more helpless the woman, and the more she needed a husband to care for her. It was normal for the daughter to cry and cry at the thought of hurting her feet so, of being unable to walk. Of crippling herself. But the mother knew better. The girl would never find a suitable husband if her feet were like those of a servant.
At least a working servant.
finally writing a poem without the word “remember”, by C. C. Russell
We fashioned ourselves
as human gunships
chasing the grasshoppers
through the forest of the sunken backyard
and firing our chain guns,
wooden sticks,
the ultimate technology
of war.
anxiety, by Jeff Foster
a visceral performance artist
she performs in the nude
inviting members of her audience
to examine her cervix with a flashlight
she smears herself with chocolate
sugaring poetics of endowment
pissing on pictures of christ
and making vegetables disappear
1960, by Mark Hartenbach
little blonde heads
and pure beating hearts
hang upside-down
singing profound nonsense
and do not make distinctions
everything is holy
white sheets curl
and snap in the May breeze
they dream of backyard
bomb shelter salvation
in childlike psychodrama
elvis and sputnik
mean nothing
in the beautiful void
ballet madonna, by Lyn Lifshin
circles of light
beamed on arches
swallows in the rigging
violins flutes people
waving programs as fans
Even the grand piano
seems to be sweating
excerpt from headed west, by C Ra McGuirt
my desk faces the west because
that’s where the window is,
& because, after all
death is to the west,
& words are always death
in one way or another.
pornography: ugly enough, but only the tip of the iceberg, by George Spelvin
One of my main gripes about pornography is that it tells the viewer or reader lies which he wants to hear - chiefly that women are eager to jump in bed with the viewer or reader and ask nothing in return in terms of relationships; in other words, female heterosexuality is simply the flipside of male heterosexuality.
I have similar objections to soap operas and drug store novels. They tell the female viewer or reader that if the smile pretty enough, a knight on a galloping white horse will come and bestow the viewer or reader with a relationship and ask nothing in return; in other words, male heterosexuality is simply the flipside of female heterosexuality.
Furthermore, I have similar objections to parental drives being similarly exploited. The Fifties sitcoms told parents that children hallow the ground they walk on. The dime store prints of bug-eyed urchins tell the viewer that there are millions of submissive and innocent little darlings waiting to be rescued, and that these pitiful waifs will behave perfectly in return.
This is not a mere academic problem. Media lies affect our daily lives. Husbands ask their wives, “Why can’t you pose in black lace nighties for me like the centerfold girl?” Wives ask their husbands, “Why can’t you meet my every need like the hero in the Harlequin Romance?” Parents ask their children, “Why can’t you say, ‘Gee, dad,’ like Beaver Cleaver?”
The answer to these questions is very simple: the centerfold girl, the Harlequin hero, and Beaver Cleaver don’t exist.
beach scene with telephone, after Dali, 1938, by Geoff Stevens
Black mamba is a snake
is a telephone.
It can make a hiss
It can make a hiss
in its bakelite throat.
Sea is a serpent.
It can make a roar
or whisper round the shore.
People are white fish
drowning in the sunshine.
a.k.a., by Richard King Perkins II
They called themselves
Mother and Father
But we weren’t certain
This was true
When their hands became
Paperweights of horn
On our vellum flesh
And the kids
The lambs, the calves
Became silent in their pens..
When the stars had further
Receded from our own
We placed our parents in
Clay pots, anonymously,
Feeling stupid for keeping
This ivory dust
And the coffins of impostors.
How were we supposed to know?
Why are we supposed to care?
To finally learn that
Fire lives in the sea
And every shadow casts a light -
Trying not to forget
There is another place
Where intimacy is often kept.
small change, by Marc Swan
She’s only ten, maybe less,
wearing yellow cotton gloves
frayed and torn along the seams,
a red and white Santa cap,
and dirty white sneakers without laces.
Her mother, squinting through LensCrafters glasses,
pushes packets of Top Ramen, Kool Aid,
some cheese, closer to the register
while her daughter,
squinting through her own pair of thick-lensed glasses,
lightly touches the wrappers
on each piece of candy in every box on the counter.
Her mother plays with a five-dollar voucher,
carefully collects the eighty-three cents change,
and they walk side by side to the old Camaro
past a Volvo DL wagon
where a puppy in a red bow yaps at the window.
culture, by Tolek
i pointed at his head, said
long hair, denver, 2nd street, old jewish house,
scary basement.
his thick black glasses and big nose were the same.
you’re one of stephanie’s friends? he’s pretty sure.
yep. i say i have to find her i owe her money.
he didn’t know about her. she was a rest stop
driving across country that summer.
driving until fatigued sleeping in car because
i’m young and fear everything.
it’s better for the car to drive the cool night
better to sleep the cool night too but i couldn’t
do both.
from the road america ain’t nothin’.
an old barn, big rocks, silver rain horizon, mileage posts
in passing.
from denny’s to denny’s, atm to atm,
taking pictures of strangers i’m an idiot.
but denver smelled friendly. out to dinner, saw a movie,
got a parking ticket (paid it!).
and still when i needed something went to 7-11.
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Nick DiSpoldo, Small Press Review (on “Children, Churches and Daddies,” April 1997)
Kuypers is the widely-published poet of particular perspectives and not a little existential rage, but she does not impose her personal or artistic agenda on her magazine. CC+D is a provocative potpourri of news stories, poetry, humor, art and the “dirty underwear” of politics.
One piece in this issue is “Crazy,” an interview Kuypers conducted with “Madeline,” a murderess who was found insane, and is confined to West Virginia’s Arronsville Correctional Center. Madeline, whose elevator definitely doesn’t go to the top, killed her boyfriend during sex with an ice pick and a chef’s knife, far surpassing the butchery of Elena Bobbitt. Madeline, herself covered with blood, sat beside her lover’s remains for three days, talking to herself, and that is how the police found her. For effect, Kuypers publishes Madeline’s monologue in different-sized type, and the result is something between a sense of Dali’s surrealism and Kafka-like craziness.
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Debra Purdy Kong, writer, British Columbia, Canada
I like the magazine a lot. I like the spacious lay-out and the different coloured pages and the variety of writer’s styles. Too many literary magazines read as if everyone graduated from the same course. We need to collect more voices like these and send them everywhere.
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Ed Hamilton, writer
#85 (of Children, Churches and Daddies) turned out well. I really enjoyed the humor section, especially the test score answers. And, the cup-holder story is hilarious. I’m not a big fan of poetry - since much of it is so hard to decipher - but I was impressed by the work here, which tends toward the straightforward and unpretentious.
As for the fiction, the piece by Anderson is quite perceptive: I liked the way the self-deluding situation of the character is gradually, subtly revealed. (Kuypers’) story is good too: the way it switches narrative perspective via the letter device is a nice touch.
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Children, Churches and Daddies.
It speaks for itself.
Write to Scars Publications to submit poetry, prose and artwork to Children, Churches and Daddies literary magazine, or to inquire about having your own chapbook, and maybe a few reviews like these.
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Jim Maddocks, GLASGOW, via the Internet
I’ll be totally honest, of the material in Issue (either 83 or 86 of Children, Churches and Daddies) the only ones I really took to were Kuypers’. TRYING was so simple but most truths are, aren’t they?
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what is veganism?
A vegan (VEE-gun) is someone who does not consume any animal products. While vegetarians avoid flesh foods, vegans don’t consume dairy or egg products, as well as animal products in clothing and other sources.
why veganism?
This cruelty-free lifestyle provides many benefits, to animals, the environment and to ourselves. The meat and dairy industry abuses billions of animals. Animal agriculture takes an enormous toll on the land. Consumtion of animal products has been linked to heart disease, colon and breast cancer, osteoporosis, diabetes and a host of other conditions.
so what is vegan action?
We can succeed in shifting agriculture away from factory farming, saving millions, or even billions of chickens, cows, pigs, sheep turkeys and other animals from cruelty.
We can free up land to restore to wilderness, pollute less water and air, reduce topsoil reosion, and prevent desertification.
We can improve the health and happiness of millions by preventing numerous occurrences od breast and prostate cancer, osteoporosis, and heart attacks, among other major health problems.
A vegan, cruelty-free lifestyle may be the most important step a person can take towards creatin a more just and compassionate society. Contact us for membership information, t-shirt sales or donations.
vegan action
po box 4353, berkeley, ca 94707-0353
510/704-4444
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C Ra McGuirt, Editor, The Penny Dreadful Review (on Children, Churches and Daddies)
CC&D is obviously a labor of love ... I just have to smile when I go through it. (Janet Kuypers) uses her space and her poets to best effect, and the illos attest to her skill as a graphic artist.
I really like (“Writing Your Name”). It’s one of those kind of things where your eye isn’t exactly pulled along, but falls effortlessly down the poem.
I liked “knowledge” for its mix of disgust and acceptance. Janet Kuypers does good little movies, by which I mean her stuff provokes moving imagery for me. Color, no dialogue; the voice of the poem is the narrator over the film.
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Children, Churches and Daddies no longer distributes free contributor’s copies of issues. In order to receive issues of Children, Churches and Daddies, contact Janet Kuypers at the cc&d e-mail addres. Free electronic subscriptions are available via email. All you need to do is email ccandd@scars.tv... and ask to be added to the free cc+d electronic subscription mailing list. And you can still see issues every month at the Children, Churches and Daddies website, located at http://scars.tv
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Mark Blickley, writer
The precursor to the magazine title (Children, Churches and Daddies) is very moving. “Scars” is also an excellent prose poem. I never really thought about scars as being a form of nostalgia. But in the poem it also represents courage and warmth. I look forward to finishing her book.
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MIT Vegetarian Support Group (VSG)
functions:
* To show the MIT Food Service that there is a large community of vegetarians at MIT (and other health-conscious people) whom they are alienating with current menus, and to give positive suggestions for change.
* To exchange recipes and names of Boston area veg restaurants
* To provide a resource to people seeking communal vegetarian cooking
* To provide an option for vegetarian freshmen
We also have a discussion group for all issues related to vegetarianism, which currently has about 150 members, many of whom are outside the Boston area. The group is focusing more toward outreach and evolving from what it has been in years past. We welcome new members, as well as the opportunity to inform people about the benefits of vegetarianism, to our health, the environment, animal welfare, and a variety of other issues.
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Gary, Editor, The Road Out of Town (on the Children, Churches and Daddies Web Site)
I just checked out the site. It looks great.
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Dusty Dog Reviews: These poems document a very complicated internal response to the feminine side of social existence. And as the book proceeds the poems become increasingly psychologically complex and, ultimately, fascinating and genuinely rewarding.
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John Sweet, writer (on chapbook designs)
Visuals were awesome. They’ve got a nice enigmatic quality to them. Front cover reminds me of the Roman sculptures of angels from way back when. Loved the staggered tire lettering, too. Way cool.
(on “Hope Chest in the Attic”)
Some excellent writing in “Hope Chest in the Attic.” I thought “Children, Churches and Daddies” and “The Room of the Rape” were particularly powerful pieces.
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C Ra McGuirt, Editor, The Penny Dreadful Review: CC&D is obviously a labor of love ... I just have to smile when I go through it. (Janet Kuypers) uses her space and her poets to best effect, and the illos attest to her skill as a graphic artist.
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Cheryl Townsend, Editor, Impetus (on Children, Churches and Daddies)
The new CC&D looks absolutely amazing. It’s a wonderful lay-out, looks really professional - all you need is the glossy pages. Truly impressive AND the calendar, too. Can’t wait to actually start reading all the stuff inside.. Wanted to just say, it looks good so far!!!
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Dusty Dog Reviews: She opens with a poem of her own devising, which has that wintry atmosphere demonstrated in the movie version of Boris Pasternak’s Doctor Zhivago. The atmosphere of wintry white and cold, gloriously murderous cold, stark raging cold, numbing and brutalizing cold, appears almost as a character who announces to his audience, “Wisdom occurs only after a laboriously magnificent disappointment.” Alas, that our Dusty Dog for mat cannot do justice to Ms. Kuypers’ very personal layering of her poem across the page.
Fithian Press, Santa Barbara, CA
Indeed, there’s a healthy balance here between wit and dark vision, romance and reality, just as there’s a good balance between words and graphics. The work shows brave self-exploration, and serves as a reminder of mortality and the fragile beauty of friendship.
Mark Blickley, writer
The precursor to the magazine title (Children, Churches and Daddies) is very moving. “Scars” is also an excellent prose poem. I never really thought about scars as being a form of nostalgia. But in the poem it also represents courage and warmth. I look forward to finishing her book.
You Have to be Published to be Appreciated.
Do you want to be heard? Contact Children, Churches and Daddies about book or chapbook publishing. These reviews can be yours. Scars Publications, attention J. Kuypers. We’re only an e-mail away. Write to us.
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Brian B. Braddock, Writer (on 1996 Children, Churches and Daddies)
I passed on a copy to my brother who is the director of the St. Camillus AIDS programs. We found (Children, Churches and Daddies’) obvious dedication along this line admirable.
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The Center for Renewable Energy and Sustainable Technology
The Solar Energy Research & Education Foundation (SEREF), a non-profit organization based in Washington, D.C., established on Earth Day 1993 the Center for Renewable Energy and Sustainable Technology (CREST) as its central project. CREST’s three principal projects are to provide:
* on-site training and education workshops on the sustainable development interconnections of energy, economics and environment;
* on-line distance learning/training resources on CREST’s SOLSTICE computer, available from 144 countries through email and the Internet;
* on-disc training and educational resources through the use of interactive multimedia applications on CD-ROM computer discs - showcasing current achievements and future opportunities in sustainable energy development.
The CREST staff also does “on the road” presentations, demonstrations, and workshops showcasing its activities and available resources.
For More Information Please Contact: Deborah Anderson
dja@crest.org or (202) 289-0061
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Brian B. Braddock, Writer (on 1996 Children, Churches and Daddies)
I passed on a copy to my brother who is the director of the St. Camillus AIDS programs. We found (Children, Churches and Daddies’) obvious dedication along this line admirable.
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Dorrance Publishing Co., Pittsburgh, PA
“Hope Chest in the Attic” captures the complexity of human nature and reveals startling yet profound discernments about the travesties that surge through the course of life. This collection of poetry, prose and artwork reflects sensitivity toward feminist issues concerning abuse, sexism and equality. It also probes the emotional torrent that people may experience as a reaction to the delicate topics of death, love and family.
“Chain Smoking” depicts the emotional distress that afflicted a friend while he struggled to clarify his sexual ambiguity. Not only does this thought-provoking profile address the plight that homosexuals face in a homophobic society, it also characterizes the essence of friendship. “The room of the rape” is a passionate representation of the suffering rape victims experience. Vivid descriptions, rich symbolism, and candid expressions paint a shocking portrait of victory over the gripping fear that consumes the soul after a painful exploitation.
want a review like this? contact scars about getting your own book published.
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Paul Weinman, Writer (on 1996 Children, Churches and Daddies)
Wonderful new direction (Children, Churches and Daddies has) taken - great articles, etc. (especially those on AIDS). Great stories - all sorts of hot info!
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The magazine Children Churches and Daddies is Copyright �
through
Scars Publications and Design. The rights of the individual pieces remain with the authors. No material may be reprinted without express permission from the author.
Okay, nilla wafer. Listen up and listen good. How to save your life. Submit, or I’ll have to kill you.
Okay, it’s this simple: send me published or unpublished poetry, prose or art work (do not send originals), along with a bio, to us - then sit around and wait... Pretty soon you’ll hear from the happy people at cc&d that says (a) Your work sucks, or (b) This is fancy crap, and we’re gonna print it. It’s that simple!
Okay, butt-munch. Tough guy. This is how to win the editors over.
Hope Chest in the Attic is a 200 page, perfect-bound book of 13 years of poetry, prose and art by Janet Kuypers. It’s a really classy thing, if you know what I mean. We also have a few extra sopies of the 1999 book “Rinse and Repeat”, the 2001 book “Survive and Thrive”, the 2001 books “Torture and Triumph” and “(no so) Warm and Fuzzy”,
which all have issues of cc&d crammed into one book. And you can have either one of these things at just five bucks a pop if you just contact us and tell us you saw this ad space. It’s an offer you can’t refuse...
Carlton Press, New York, NY: HOPE CHEST IN THE ATTIC is a collection of well-fashioned, often elegant poems and short prose that deals in many instances, with the most mysterious and awesome of human experiences: love... Janet Kuypers draws from a vast range of experiences and transforms thoughts into lyrical and succinct verse... Recommended as poetic fare that will titillate the palate in its imagery and imaginative creations.
Mark Blickley, writer: The precursor to the magazine title (Children, Churches and Daddies) is very moving. “Scars” is also an excellent prose poem. I never really thought about scars as being a form of nostalgia. But in the poem it also represents courage and warmth. I look forward to finishing the book.
You Have to be Published to be Appreciated.
Do you want to be heard? Contact Children, Churches and Daddies about book and chapbook publishing. These reviews can be yours. Scars Publications, attention J. Kuypers - you can write for yourself or you can write for an audience. It’s your call...
Dorrance Publishing Co., Pittsburgh, PA: “Hope Chest in the Attic” captures the complexity of human nature and reveals startling yet profound discernments about the travesties that surge through the course of life. This collection of poetry, prose and artwork reflects sensitivity toward feminist issues concerning abuse, sexism and equality. It also probes the emotional torrent that people may experience as a reaction to the delicate topics of death, love and family. “Chain Smoking” depicts the emotional distress that afflicted a friend while he struggled to clarify his sexual ambiguity. Not only does this thought-provoking profile address the plight that homosexuals face in a homophobic society, it also characterizes the essence of friendship. “The room of the rape” is a passionate representation of the suffering rape victims experience. Vivid descriptions, rich symbolism, and candid expressions paint a shocking portrait of victory over the gripping fear that consumes the soul after a painful exploitation.
Dusty Dog Reviews, CA (on knife): These poems document a very complicated internal response to the feminine side of social existence. And as the book proceeds the poems become increasingly psychologically complex and, ultimately, fascinating and genuinely rewarding.
Children, Churches and Daddies. It speaks for itself.
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Dusty Dog Reviews (on Without You): She open with a poem of her own devising, which has that wintry atmosphere demonstrated in the movie version of Boris Pasternak’s Doctor Zhivago. The atmosphere of wintry white and cold, gloriously murderous cold, stark raging cold, numbing and brutalizing cold, appears almost as a character who announces to his audience, “Wisdom occurs only after a laboriously magnificent disappointment.” Alas, that our Dusty Dog for mat cannot do justice to Ms. Kuypers’ very personal layering of her poem across the page.
Children, Churches and Daddies. It speaks for itself.
Debra Purdy Kong, writer, British Columbia, Canada (on Children, Churches and Daddies): I like the magazine a lot. I like the spacious lay-out and the different coloured pages and the variety of writer’s styles. Too many literary magazines read as if everyone graduated from the same course. We need to collect more voices like these and send them everywhere.
Fithian Press, Santa Barbara, CA: Indeed, there’s a healthy balance here between wit and dark vision, romance and reality, just as there’s a good balance between words and graphics. The work shows brave self-exploration, and serves as a reminder of mortality and the fragile beauty of friendship.
Children, Churches and Daddies
the unreligious, non-family oriented literary and art magazine
Scars Publications and Design
ccandd96@scars.tv
http://scars.tv
Publishers/Designers Of
Children, Churches and Daddies magazine
cc+d Ezines
The Burning mini poem books
God Eyes mini poem books
The Poetry Wall Calendar
The Poetry Box
The Poetry Sampler
Mom’s Favorite Vase Newsletters
Reverberate Music Magazine
Down In The Dirt magazine
Freedom and Strength Press forum
plus assorted chapbooks and books
music, poery compact discs
live performances of songs and readings
Sponsors Of
past editions:
Poetry Chapbook Contest, Poetry Book Contest
Prose Chapbook Contest, Prose Book Contest
Poetry Calendar Contest
current editions:
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Collection Volumes
Children, Churches and Daddies (founded 1993)
has been written and researched by political groups and writers from the United States, Canada, England, India, Italy, Malta, Norway and Turkey.
Regular features provide coverage of environmental, political and social issues (via news and philosophy) as well as fiction and poetry,
and act as an information and education source. Children, Churches and Daddies is the leading magazine for this combination of information,
education and entertainment.
Children, Churches and Daddies (ISSN 1068-5154) is published quarterly by Scars Publications and Design. Contact us via e-mail (ccandd96@scars.tv) for subscription rates
or prices for annual collection books.
To contributors:
No racist, sexist or blatantly homophobic material. No originals; if mailed, include SASE & bio.
Work sent on disks or through e-mail preferred. Previously published work accepted. Authors always retain rights to their own work. All magazine rights reserved. Reproduction of
Children, Churches and Daddies without publisher permission is forbidden.
Children, Churches and Daddies copyright
through
Scars Publications and Design, Children, Churches and Daddies, Janet Kuypers. All rights remain with the authors of the individual
pieces. No material may be reprinted without express permission. |
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