Nick DiSpoldo, Small Press Review (on Children, Churches and Daddies, April 1997) Children, Churches and Daddies is eclectic, alive and is as contemporary as tomorrow’s news.

Children, Churches and Daddies

Volume 31 ‘Masquerade’

The Unreligious, Non-Family-Oriented Literary and Art Magazine

ISSN 1068-5154

Obsidian A Pastoral, by eugene grynewiecz three: A glass of water, my eldest: --Daddy, there are dragons swimming in it... A shallow bowl filled with dragons, I set it on the kitchen table. Sitting semi-lotus, I watch dragons at play in a swift mountain stream. Waves lick about my feet: scales glisten, drying in pale moonlight. Concrete Alchemy, by pete cholewinski Everyone’s doing lines: white lines and psychic lines and prayer lines and election lines and lines from the creep at the bar. Cuz everyone wants a Navigator who’ll put their life in his hands. Like a flower growing in a parking lot, I’ve got divinity in my soul and earth running through my veins. Raucous and raw as sushi, I walk run leap soar- exiled angel in the paradise I create. Shrine of the Blessed Virgin Mary Still Life, Montreal, Canada 1963, by alan catlin Rows of votive candles in glass cups ascend toward heaven, illuminating relics, rooms where the faithful have cast aside their crutches and wheelchairs, rediscovering the mysteries of walking, straightened curved spines and permanently bent backs, saying the High Mass in Latin as they come between the plain, worn wooden pews toward the altar, staggering, lost in a trance, palsied fingers shaking, reaching out for the hard Shrine wafers, the Pentacostal wines locked inside a series of rooms with no windows and no outside sources of light; outside, the pilgrims ascend toward the promised land, over the hard stone steps on t.heir knees, genuflecting, heads bowed in prayer as they come, black strings of rosary beads clutched in their left hands, climbing, they leave dark spots of blood on the worn smooth stone. untitked, by m. kettner lake frozen over/ warmth of a wood fire At the Ivanhoe Pub, by john alan douglas sleazy westcoast bar misnamed, no honor or chivalry there en route from sweaty pool tables to vomitose men’s can next to unspeakable women’s can see lisette sitting there with politically correct cronie “I thought about you today” lisette admits as the pinched face of her cronie implodes folds right back into itself in mean spirited disapproval and shock and lisette then my ex-wife ex-love of life then asks me to sit down there in sleazy scummy westcoast bar amid growing hate and fear from her friends as they come to the table one by one to witness first PC hand th einvincible power of love and devotion and love over fear hate gang-mentality and sleazy westcoast dust FOR R.S.B., by robert kimm full of grace-space stay on the stump never get off it stay on the green tuesday morning, by c ra mcguirt we are both more or less married whatever married means we are both more or less in love whatever love will prove to be we have made no promises i’ve promised too much in the past raining. not sleeping. without you... i promise to do my best. Prime Time Television Viewing, Commercial Airlines Disaster Still Life, Albany. NY, 1972, by alan catlin Inside, they are watching prime time TV, Archie Bunker laugh lines extending the skin that tightens the night inside their eyes. Overhead, outside, a commercial airplane pilot considers all the last minute landing spaces before the Albany County runway, rejects as too dangerous, the open State University campus fields, bellies in low over the tree line, landing gears down, looking for something four lanes wide, anything at all. The Brevator street cars turn their high beams down when they hear it hit, one block west, plowing down trees, altering walls, gouging valleys into the earth. After contact, in the backyard, before the ambulances, before the sirens, a cordless radio knocked loose at impact recites the News and the Weather to the swing set, the climbing vines and broken tomato stakes. Later, at St. Peter’s, the double rows of DOA’s lie in a hallway for hours covered by white sheets, the janitors scrub thereafter with ammonia and bleach, the scent never leaving their noses or their eyes as they look up from their work thinking of how it must have felt, turning, the second after death hit the living room picture window and flew inside. Bassline, by gary a. scheinoha She huffed and puffed and blew my doma down, those rotting timbers little more than matchsticks beneath her palms. Our eyes met somewhere above the tuba coiled like a large brassy intestine in her lap, blowing disemboweled notes straight past the crowd towards the over rapt ears of one. Potpourri, by robert michael o’hearn Of all the unnerving errors patterning themselves into one cornball epic of fate, where you stood four-square, nakedly and resolutely placing your affirming hand on a stack of bibles and past-due bills, and swore that original sin was out of syndication. The ensuing excitement, intermittently created, eventually disdained my continuing interest. I am no longer sure of anything of that sort. My naive intentions on any originality or anything else smacking of jolting discourtesy, are curiously nondescript. I will allow the whole subject to be dropped faster than a free-falling safe from atop the Sears Tower. religion, by alexandria rand “We do expect you to marry someone who shares in your beliefs,” the man groaned as he looked at you and said, “and that means you too, Joe.” But tell me this: when you look into my eyes, do you want to look away? Living The Clean Life, by Marc Swan “I finish the program and she moves the kids a state away. “Shit, I imagined a perfect world when I got out.” I ask him about Alanon. “Too close. She said it felt too close.” Sounds like you need another woman. “I tried. I try. “It’s like sticking a marshmallow in a parking meter.” We’ve sat on some of the same stools I say, thinking about my little girl in New York -the years I pissed away. Now I’m running the treadmill, the money’s coming in. I’m living the clean life and my ex wife is somewhere else, my kid with her in body only, I hope. I want that spirit to soar like mine did when I was passing through. naivity, by Janet Kuypers< The naivity is over. Now we must put our little toys away and stop playing house. This is the real thing, and I won’t fool around anymore. Not with you. You threw around the words “I love you” as if they were no more than water as if you really didn’t know their value. But this isn’t a game, and when I get hurt kissing it won’t make it better. Cesky Dan, by gary a scheinoha the glittery letters on the back of his red vest read, this big shot in the village of Hillsboro, this wheel whose treads were felt throughout the mostly Czechoslovak community from a festival held each year in June, to the planning of the next almost a year before. Mere sight of those words reminded me of another Cesky Dan; my own grandfather - Daniel Scheinoha who was as Cesky (Bohemian) as they come, more so than this who knows what percent beer swilling, kolache eating, palm grasping, back slapping, baby kissing half breed. trilogy past, by cheryl townsend Eighteen years of belt buckles closed fists and words other than love marry into closed fists and sex as an apology and believed in something better Across the Street, by mary winters Limestone townhouse on muffled cul-de-sac near United Nations: neighbors in plainer flat call it “The Little House”; heard the tale of owners standing tall in 1950’s - wouldn’t sell out to bigness. Neighbor saw a Renoir trundled in - but owners rarely home to look: came once to soothe the block when alarm malfunction woke us; live-in housekeeper shoos the dust, comes out to stare at fire engines. Suppertime magic, winter evening: “Oh, look, the lights are on - someone’s home in the Little House”; imagining the pomp. innocent men hang, by john sweet This will be the yea rinnocent men hang. Their windows will sleep with serial killers, and end up found in shallow ditches alongside pitted country roads. Churches will explode in the middle of the night, and we’ll be left without a god to return to. This will be the year our children shoot themselves in enpty garages, the year our lovers walk into the ocean with lead weights tied to their ankles. This will be the year the sun dies, and I turn to you in the dark and call you by someone else’s name. This will be the year without end. Back and Forth, by mary winters New York City park: family named it “Sand and Swing”. Memories: baby Son incandescent with joy, swing’s path sparks in an arc; at age ten, Mom cracks “Let’s call in a crane,” him stuck in black rubber bucket, swing’s leg holes crammed with his thighs. Glare off a skyscraper triples the light; Hell is over-exposure, a homeless man yells - pens a warning on wall around sand box. View to bouncing river across ten lanes of traffic: boats’ detail stops a squabble. Needles near slide belie benign use; Tudor City hovers nearby. The Big Livingroom, by mary winters A man said before World War II, before the moon landing but after the pyramids and ancient Rome: I’m going to build a room. Build a livingroom right here in this New York City apartment that calls for trumpet fanfare, says yes to crowds, cries out for your best behavior and finest clothing and banishes children. Its two-story ceiling will defeat the longest handled feather duster ever and that north wall window will be big enough to let a tank in. The room will sing of money: money to buy the room, money to lavish on furniture, money to fill the walls with something other than snapshots of a family apple-picking outing. You’ll need to hire staff to keep it clean, re-upholster the grand sofas, custom sew the giant draperies. Upstairs I’ll put two tiny bedrooms where a woman could huddle frightened with a glass of wine and her son. this may sound, by Janet Kuypers< I don’t know this may sound silly but every night just before I’m about to sleep I think of you and when I turn out the light and crawl into my empty bed a piece of me feels missing I don’t know what it is but I feel a hole right about where my heart is when I have to lay there night after night all alone when I am with you I feel as if I am complete I feel as if nothing in the world matters when you’re holding my hand with your heart near me then I can sleep and then I fall into my empty bed and I feel the hole again burning through my heart and I wish I didn’t feel so alone and I wish the hole would just go away love poem, by alexandria rand You are the air I breathe. you enwrap me you consume me your words your eyes tear through me Life is not I, but we. I want you here tonight. I won’t fight it I can’t hide it there’s nothing to subside it I know that this is right. I can’t wait for the time please just hold me please just kiss me please just tell me that you’ll miss me When I can say you’re mine. john, by Janet Kuypers< at the other side of the room I look through the cigarette smoke the roar of conversation and the dim lights I look at his face but I no longer see John I have dreamt and envisioned a God-like figure I have imagines his sensivity and his thoughtfulness I have felt his hands caress my skin his lips meet mine he has held me one thousand times and protected me I have rehearsed our moments together in my mind the moments I have created the candlelight dinners the dancing the loving while never knowing him more than across a crowded room the music blares as I look over my shoulder between the empty faces and see his image laughing smiling conversing with friends my eyes flare with envy I wonder why he is not with me but I know the face across the room is no longer John it is a door to a dream that will never come to life robert, by Janet Kuypers< I stand in a room full of strangers leaning against a wall a wallflower but I was content with knowing no one with knowing you beer glass in hand you introduce me to the vast assortment of drunken fools you call your friends and I stand there merely happy to be by your side a stranger intoxicated to the point of being comatose tells me I’m pretty but I really don’t care because I have you you are all I need as the rest of the party imbibes to no end and you take yourself down the road to oblivion I stay leaning leaning against the wall and I watch you sing a song with your buddies laugh at the stupidest jokes eat dog food and I keep thinking that this was all I needed to be happy you seemed to be all that mattered in the world to me how was I to know that I was leaning against the wall because you gave me no support

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.

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.

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.

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.

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?

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

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.

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

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.

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.

Gary, Editor, The Road Out of Town (on the Children, Churches and Daddies Web Site) I just checked out the site. It looks great.

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.

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.

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.

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!!!

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.

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.

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

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.

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.

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!

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.

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: Editor’s Choice Award (writing and web sites) 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.