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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
county line, by Mike Lazarchuk
We used to live
At the beach
Surfing & lighting
Campfires after school
& in the summer
Even if it rained
We didn’t care
The wide wooden pier
Furnished electricity
Before the city got cheap
& we’d use it
Hook up lights
A double hot plate
To heat some chili
Fishing at night
For shark sea bass or
Whatever fish was running
Those days of
The first transistors
The bikini girls
Were fresh
& high school
Seemed meaningless
To the point of distraction
Mr. Nimson the dean of boys
Hated bleached hair
& Mexican sandals
Constantly causing trouble
Even though we’d never
Been further south
Of the county line
Than the Venice Beach pier
He knew we’d had our first
Beer & smoked our first reefers
Discovering Dylan The Beatles & Stones
Growing independent
Tripping for the good times
With our newly found women
Letting go whatever seemed overly
Neurotic to drift with the tides
Rolling the Pacific COast
Highway in really cheap Chevys
Carrying only enough money
To make the day on
& a couple packs of Luckies
For smoking after surfing
she goes on, by victor salinas
run the water
like war
escaping your lips
there are cowboys among the werewolves
saints among the laymen
and music in the hands
of demons
soft cool and containing the motion groove
watch from the sky and you’ll get my words
come along
hold the circumference of the night
dig your lips
and step in the milk rounded by the pavement stones below
and smoke another cigar waiting for a lover
to arise from the sidewalk and pass you by
good night sunlight
have one good set of wretched infants
set them on fire and say hello
good night sunshine
see ‘ya round, brother
you’ll know me in the underworld
perhaps like the finders and the stars
like the garter and the flesh
to a virgin
and a sensuous eagle featherless
and
born from the night
and like as if being shot from a slingshot of Solar
ejaculation
fly
away, friend
she told me her dreams, by Janet Kuypers
I
we were at some sort of showing
some sort of exhibit
where they were displaying the glass
sculpture, it was eighty-three
billion years old, and it was
more smooth than anything
and it went on and on, one smooth
curve after another
it was so old
they displayed it on the water
was it a lake, or the ocean
it rested on the water, religiously
and I was in the water with someone
a man, I don’t know who
and we were swimming around it,
touching it
he was on the other side, told
me to swim under it
I didn’t think I could make it across
but I went under, acorss I went
I kept feeling the sides, the smoothness
somehow, transcribed along the
sides of the sculpture, was a
timeline, a record of history
there’s wasn’t much at eighty-three
billion years ago, but there was
more and more the closer we got
to present
I remember reading Lyndon
Johnson’s name, and then I saw
information about the future
it was all on the glass, I was
looking at it, but I can’t remember
what it says
she told me her dreams, by Janet Kuypers
II
The Bulls basketball game
was being aired on television
but I was playing a game
with my co-workers, we were
playing a game ourselves,
and it was being recorded
and being aired over the
basketball game
I remember I was in an
argument with one of my
coworkers at the time, but
they never caught any of
that on television
I remember knowing that
the camera was on me
and I remember thinking
“everyone who is watching
the Bulls game will be
watching me”
growing smaller, by t. kilgore splake
rich, dark hair, black as a starless Croatian night in the
ols country, gift from ancient ancestors, beautiful she-girl-
woman, facial lines sculpted like barren fjord stone along
the Adriatic, her perfect femme mold broken at birth,
crushed, mixed with hardscrabble dust,
married young, first-love boy, quickly whelping husky
man-bolld-children, endless routine of making meals,
washing soiled underwear,
now morning he reaches for the bottle before getting
out of bed, carries his life-saving breakfast to the kitchen
table, no longer hiding the “start” from the kids in coffee,
stale voice asking about lottery numbers, saying “maybe
today,” tired breaths trailing off,
keeping family together waitressing days, tending
bar nights, continuous round of cold black coffee, bitter
cigarettes, lost in distant stare,
last week, month, a year ago, said he’d go for treatment
if he had something to wear to the clinic, suit still boxed, top
closet shelf,
nights alone, tenderness, warmth, love on a forgotten-
past lifetime, future, cold absence of possibility,
feeling so old and tint in so larege a bed, slowing growing
smaller, a dwarf, midget, soo to disappear.
within a cricket’s carapace, by paul weinman
The young boy I baby’sat for
put a cricket between his lips.
Bit a piece of its brownish-black back
off. Said the Pledge of Allegiance
in perfectly spoken Spanish.
Classical. Even Cervantes
would have sheathed his sword.
I called up celestial things.
I asked for my father’s judgment.
A coupon for a Pizza Hut Combo
was glued to my forehead.
inflation, by paul weinman
Stopped on the street
by a black crack addict
I sensed an abrupt
upscaling of intensity
of demand. The knife
he held was pressed
against my skin, rather
than threateningly shown.
I asked him about this.
He said - Yes - and it’s
a twenty I want
not a ten!
Muttering - This racism
is getting expensive. -
I hand him 2 tens.
she told me her dreams, by Janet Kuypers
V
I was back at my college town
with some women from a sorority
we took pillows outside to the top of
a cliff, to enjoy homecoming
my friends, a woman and her
boyfriend, were at the bottom
of the cliff, at the lake, swimming
one of the women from the sorority
rested on a big pillow on a rock
then the man from the lake came
up the cliff to me, told me the
woman in the lake wanted me to
come down the cliff and swim with
them, and then he tried to drag me
down the side of the cliff
I was afraid I was going to fall
I was screaming, I was resisting
why is he pushing me, why is she
watching
she told me her dreams, by Janet Kuypers
III
this is my recurring dream:
I am in a garage
with my two brothers, there
is a window near the top of
one of the sides
and one of my brothers is
looking through it. There was
also a draining grate
on the floor of the garage
and my other brother was
looking down into it
and I sat there in the labyrinth
for the garage was filled
with a tall maze
and we all had to get through
it in order to leave the
garage
but there was a dragon
in the garage with us, and
every dream was my
brothers, looking out the
window, looking into the
darkness, and then all of
us running for our lives
last before extinction, by Janet Kuypers
Now he has so many opportunities.
He has nothing to lose. Why not
come out of the wilderness, attack
everything it sees. Kill something.
Suck the blood out, make him feel
alive for once more. Let them try
to restrain him. He has nothing to lose.
And for now it can fly to the highest
redwood, look out over the world.
Despise the world, the world that made
him be alone, leaving him alone. Who
will carry his name? Who will care
for him when he is old? Who can he
read bed time stories to?
Now it can feel death creeping upon
him, closer and closer. He wants to
scream. He calls upon nature; the
tides rise, earthquakes shatter homes.
He does not feel vindicated. He has lost.
And for now she can swim to the deepest
darkest cave in the Pacific, hide from
the solitude, swim lower and lower;
can she find where all of the other
animals of dying species hide, can she
find them. There must be others. They
can understand, they can live together,
at the bottom of the earth. Could they
show their pain for their species, share
what is left of their love, create a new race?
Soon they will be no more
and we will be taking their bones,
reassembling them, studying their
form, rebuilding their lives, revering
them more than we ever did
in life. This is what it all becomes.
This is what it all boils down to.
Study the bones. Study the mistakes.
Study the bones.
she told me her dreams, by Janet Kuypers
VI
I went to visit some old friends
we were going to a party together
I went outside to save a
space for my car
I came back, but they
left for the party without me
I was abandoned
girl at the window, by john sweet
girl at the window
has a gun
nothing you can do
but watch
germans, by mark sonnenfeld
from night schools
pre compulsory
opinions
many indistrial
civilian personnel
with authority
coordinate new
stirring mental
methods
lonely, by john sweet
allison gets dressed
afterwards
and says her boyfriend
hasn’t been home
in four days
she gets lonely
she says
she lights a cigarette
in the darkness
and watches me
put my pants on
she checks on her kid
while i use
the bathroom
then walks me
to the door
kisses me on the cheek
says
she’ll call
i get home in time
to catch
a few hours of sleep
before work
holding the hand of a ghost, by john sweet
on the proch at linda’s house
the sun slipping towards the hills
on the far side of the lake
there’s less of her than there was
six months ago
her hair thin
her smile vanished entirely.
she says the medication
helps the pain
sometimes
she says the worst part is knowing
that this will be
her last summer
a small breeze
and she wraps her sweater
tighter around her
holding her hand is like
holding the hand of a ghost
she says nothing
and there’s nothing else
to say
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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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The Poetry Wall Calendar
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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
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current editions:
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Collection Volumes
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.