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Dusty Dog Reviews The whole project is hip, anti-academic, the poetry of reluctant grown-ups, picking noses in church. An enjoyable romp! Though also serious.
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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. |
ISSN 1068-5154
an example for you to follow, by John Sweet
i came to this country
hundreds of years ago
to butcher the indians
and steal their land
and eat their bleeding meat
by a campfire
under a million unnmaed stars
i came to enslave everybody
and invent the atomic bomb
and agent orange
and to raise a generation
of screaming crack babies
i came to rape helpless children
and bury them in autumn fields
i came to produce color movies
and top forty albums
and to build monuments
to myself
i came to burn witches
and to shoot senior citizens
at ponderosas everywhere
i came to be a freeway killer
and cult leader
and to eat the hearts out of
screaming angel-faced virgins
i came to drop acid
and smoke pot
and beat my wife every friday
night
i came to set an example
for you to follow
church, by Mike Lazarchuk
That summer
Louie Campos went
To bible school to
Learn moral values
Louis had already
Been to juvie
Aired a switch
At Mrs. Reed in
5th grade &
Deemed out of
Parental control
Was the 1st kid in class
To watch someone
Die under a
Street light
Earned the nickname
“Castro” taught to
Throw but never catch
& did some time
A 6 yr. meatball in Chino
Came back to the streets
24 yrs. old & able to
Use his metal
Against blood
Stayed alive another 5
Hussling pool & rolling dope
Carried a gun in
A pocket with a crucifix
& pulled them outside
A flop on 27th Street
Shooting it out with
Gang boys dropping him dead
That summer way back when
“Castro” Louis Campos went to bible school
& I haven’t been to
church since
fragment from a carnival, Mark Hartenbach
whether it be
aurora borealis or
1950’s freak shows
that leave you wondering
about the existance
of God
for the first time
in your sinday school life
it should be the nature
of mystery to make
you feel
the isolation
& the inner conncetion
of all things
at the same time/ an unspoken sense
of rushing toward
giggly bliss & the brotherhood
of doom
that makes us divine
& ugly
he told me his dreams, by Janet Kuypers
V
they were trying to kill
me again, why am I
always running away
from them? they had guns,
they had pistols, machine
guns, as they always
do, and I only had my
feet to keep me away
and save me. I
could feel the bullets
riddling my body. who
are they, why do I
always have to run away;
even in my own dreams,
who am I running from
he told me his dreams, by Janet Kuypers
VI
in the recurring dream
during my childhood
I was on a sort of game show:
and every time I would
be faced with three doors
to choose from. They
always had the same things
behind them. The first
time I had the dream
I asked for door number
three. Behind the door was a
desolate hill with a tree
on the top. I would then
climb the hill, climb the tree
if I could, just to see if
there was something else.
Nothing. Just a hill, just a
tree. Other nights when I
would dream of it I would
go back to the hill, find a
wooden ladder at the tree,
climb it and find a fort to
play in. But that was all, still
so lonely. On other occasions I
would choose door number two.
Behind it was a dark tunnel,
a scary tunnel; there was a
light at the end of it, but I
would never get that far. I
would try to go through the
tunnel, but I only got a
strange feeling. Was there
anything there at the end?
Sometimes in the dream I
would choose door number
one. Behind it was a great
Walt Disney World amusement
park, even better than
that. And there were roller
coasters, and lots of food.
It was my favorite door.
But somtimes I had no choice
which door I got. Sometimes
I’d notice more details, but
it was always those three
doors, the desolation, the
fear, and the rewards. the
doors were always the same
GIRL ON THE MOON , for Rebecca Loudon, by Neha Prasad
Why do all the angels die
with flower petals at their feet?
I can sense your eyes on the moon,
are you the daughter of the man
on the moon? I would like to know.
The violinist with the golden touch
for attracting deadly men
I could no more walk,
what can I say,
my soul was too tired for the trip.
I didn’t realize it coming
through the fog that fell
with the bleachers
and the grassy knoll behind the
football field.
These things don’t have much meaning,
these tears have no place to fall
but off the bridge.
Where do all the little angels go
when they die?
I would like to visit that place
but you tell me to hold on,
make your choice.
Go tonight, take your nap
punch through the windshields
of the bastard’s straight up penis
take the hand of your son through
the waters of Puget Sound,
remember me,
I am the girl on the moon.
fear the darkness, by Larry Blazek
Fear the darkness
whimper your prayers
cling to your pathetic faith
just because you can’t see
things lurking in the shadows
doesn’t mean you’re safe
- fear the darkness -
in the darkness, by David Madgalene
The old man
counts his money
in the darkness.
Sometimes
he sings in falsetto
pretends he’s a martian
and remembers
the colored woman
he once loved.
bronx halt, by Mark Sonnenfeld
i don’t remember
a wood cemetery there - is it bitter
somply
requestion the relative contact - after
reburial
gets me wondering - what
i still want to know
about soybean
fields, about wills
residents, who handle names, addresses
claim a reclusive retirement
in a potter’s field
he told me his dreams, by Janet Kuypers
VIII
he remembers escaping from prison
he knew he had to escape
he was captured by evil people
he managed to run away
but the more he ran, the slower his steps
slower and slower, he’s not going anywhere
the evil men with the machine guns
caught up
why can’t he run away
they plugged him with bullets
forty, maybe more
he could feel them hitting him, feel them
he kept trying to run away
and they would catch up to him
take him back to prison, still alive
he lived through it
he was still full of holes
why can’t he run away
he told me his dreams, by Janet Kuypers
VII
when I was little
I would have dreams
where I found riches:
a large rare, expensive
gold coin, a pile of
money hidden in a cave.
And the one thing I
remember most is that
I always wanted to take
it back with me; I knew
I was dreaming, and I
would think, “God,
please, I just want to
have this gold coin when
I wake up.” And I
would try to hold the
treasure firmly in my
hand, wake myself
only to find tightly
clenched fists. Once I even
remember putting
the wealth under my
pillow in my dream, and
then I would wake.
My instinct told me to
turn over my pillow as
soon as I could. There
was never anything there
david’s mom, by Victor Salinas
hail flowers as they stream by
the front window
and watch them
i suppose
she sits alone
fingertips continuously drying
and reading
tapping the rim of
a glass bowl
w/ flowers
She
lights up another cigarette,
and
so continues the afternoon.
roaches watching from every corner
of the wretched universe
of her timy room
shuffle softly
as if they’re
Dancing
to the
harmony from Marvin Gaye upstairs
interrupting her.
&
she pauses
to groove for a second to the chorus.
thumps her ashes
and looks softly out her window,
to the fat black woman outside
small bits of century and nicotine
softly scrpae the soul;
music burns like sunlight
and somewhere in the eye
is a path back to relativity
without mathematics
no,
my mistake
nothings real allows the
dismissal of algebra
or in some cases
of God.
wouldn’t you know
contact with eternity is limited
when yer Alive.
i suppose
but
she digs her novels
writes a few
only to return
to hell
after
the rejection pile
like bills she could never pay
a pause at the edge, by T. Kilgore Splake
seventy-three years, eyesight ravaged by
diabetes, medicines no effect, halting lame step,
Medicare-funded cane necessary guidance, slowly
wasting like old tree, inner forest sanctum, losing leaves
from top and bottom branches, once tough wood and
bark rotting within,
spending days searching for understanding of love,
afternoon companion with “Young and Restless,”
“Days of Our Lives,” continuous television soap operas,
courting intellectual recognition, getting answers before
panelists, contests, “Jeopardy,” “Hollywood Squares,” a
circus of media game shows
endless nights bargaining with heaven, constantly
asking God during small hours of early morning, “what
good reason He put her on earth for all these years,”
too soon, somber, mute soul, eating morning
breakfast, returning to bed fully clothed, watching,
waiting,
talking, laughing, crying, shouting at empty chairs,
vacant corners, trying to remember faces long gone,
voices silent years ago.
he told me his dreams, by Janet Kuypers
IX
She said: Do you know that feeling
you get when you’re starting
to fall asleep and then suddenly
you feel like you’re falling
very quickly and you instantly
wake yourself up? Everyone
gets that feeling sometimes
when they sleep. Did you know
your body does that on purpose?
You see, it happens when you’re
very tired and your body starts
to fall into a sleep state at too
fast a speed. Your heart rate,
your breathing shouldn’t slow
down that fast. So your body
makes you feel like you fall
so you’ll wake up, feel a little
tense, and fall asleep more
slowly. He said: No, no, that’s
not what I’m talking about.
I know that feeling, but
what I’m talking about is
being in a dream and going
to the edge of a cliff and jumping.
She said: Well, what happens?
Do you land? He said: Sometimes
I wake up before I land,
sometimes I land gently and
live. You’ve never had a dream
like that before? She said:
No. He said: Why do I have
dreams like this? Why this cliff?
Why do I fall? How do I land?
apple pie, by John Sweet
the bodsy
is dug up
on a cloudless
summer afternoon
the sun
shining down
on the field
without mercy
a black
teenager
naked
half his face
gone
where the dogs
attacked
hands tied
behind his back
bullet
in the base
of his skull
this is
baseball
hot dogs
apple pie
and
chevrolet
tell your
children
and see what
thet learn
donny says it’s easy, by Mark Sonnenfeld
what happens is
the reason why they have a roof
tank is if everyone flushing their toilet
the same time the pressure from
the street can’t boost it up
it’s easier to boost it up to the tank
and have the pressure from the tank
coming down
it’s easy it’s
how the water gets to the world
trade center the street pressure
is at usually sixty to a hundred pounds
the world trade center’s how many stories?
hundred twenty?
hundred ten?
take half
that’s pumped say to the fiftieth floor
a roof tank on the fiftieth floor they call
it a booster pump gets
water pumped to the hundred tenth floor
where another roof tank tops the pressure
that is gravity fed down with pressure
reducing
valves
very
easy
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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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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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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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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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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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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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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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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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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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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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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, butt-munch. Tough guy. This is how to win the editors over.
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.
You Have to be Published to be Appreciated.
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.
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.
ccandd96@scars.tv
Publishers/Designers Of
Sponsors Of
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!
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...
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.
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...
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.
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.
the unreligious, non-family oriented literary and art magazine
Scars Publications and Design
http://scars.tv
Children, Churches and Daddies magazine
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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.