|
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.
|
|
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
waiting for you (2/13/94), by Janet Kuypers
i look out at the evening sky
snow falling out of the sky
star-shaped flakes as big as fingertips
falling onto my face
melting into my skin
touching me
sharp and sweet
like your hand on my cheek
in the cold of winter
it almost feels warm
every bullet is engraved, by steven mcdaris
dance naked in fallen snow
cold is a word
politicians use
to pave their streets
with greed and blood
walls within walls
smoke in mirrors of hate
optical allusions
trees fall silently
no one listens
a smile needs no interpretation
dream euphorically of peace
chase invisible rainbows
differences vanish like
last week’s paycheck
burn maps and money
instead of children
tumble walls, crumble towers
while days run away
never is a long time
seven miles, by Alexandria Rand
Okay, so you were going to be in Chicago for a few hours, and then you’d be driving out of town again, and I really wanted to see you, so I said I’d be more than happy to drive to the city to see you for an hour or two. Okay, let’s meet at the Planetarium, I said, because it would be the quickest place for me to get to from the interstate, besides, you were in the city anyway, you’d easily get to the Planetarium before I would. So okay, we’d meet at 3:15, you said, and I got off the phone and rushed out the door.
And I got there, traffic was a bitch, but I got there, parked my car and then proceeded to walk back and forth looking for you. Where the hell was he, he didn’t have much time before he had to leave, where could he be, it’s been over twenty minutes, what trouble has he gotten himself into now? Knowing him, he probably thought I said the Aquarium and was waiting at the building a block away from me, the big jerk. And all these men were staring at me, like they’ve never seen a woman in a suede skirt before, one of them even said hello to me, and I had to sit there and try to ignore everyone and brood because you were late. You probably crashed the car and were bickering over insurance with someone while I sat there. Made me drive for a couple of hours for nothing.
So then I finally see you sprinting up the block. Your oxford is unbuttoned, and the closer you get, the more red you look. Okay, now I’m intrigued. “Where have you been?” I asked, and as you’re panting in a vain attempt to catch your breath you explain that you couldn’t get the car out of the parking lot because the person who has the ticket stub for the car is in the doctor’s office, so you ran seven miles to get here so that I wouldn’t wait.
Okay, I feel like a heel. And you never cease to amaze me. I know you said you’d go to the ends of the earth for me. Seven miles is more than enough.
the old man of the desert, by gary jurechka
Somewhere in the desert
of New Mexico, an old man
clothed in ragged jeans and
Jesus sandals with a druid beggar’s
robe, protection against sun and
sand, sits in the scant shade
of a Joshua tree, fierce eyes staring,
he shakes his wild mane of white hair
and breathes deep in the arid desert steam.
In this holy solitude, in this
hellish sand cathedral, he waits for
seekers of knowledge, for he is wise
to the menaing of life, he understands
the secrets of the winde and the rhythm
of clouds. But there have been no
seekers for years, no one wants
to know anymore.
In cool twilight he silhouettes atop
the gaint heat-retaining rock,
chewing peyote and staring through
wrinkled eyes as he watches yet
another barren moon arrive, pausing
occasionally to spit through grozzled
teeth a trickle of shaman juice that
briefly stains the sand before
disappearing,
like the old man,
into the silent desert
night.
this is what it means, by Janet Kuypers
my son was shot
now he lives in his wheelchair
I hear him creek as he rolls down the hall
he’s a brave boy
it takes him such great strength to live
he always smiles
he can’t feel from the waist down
but he works so hard
he is so proud
once I came home
and he was so excited
you see, he took a rope
and a laundry basket
filled them up with snacks;
now he could
drag his snacks to his room
this was an accomplishment
he was so proud of himself
I held back my tears
he shouldn’t have to go through this
this is not how he should live
people don’t understand
when he has a bowel movement
he has to
reach inside of him
and pull it out
he can’t feel
this is what it means
for him to be in a wheelchair
to not feel
debbi, by lyn lifshin
I was 17 lived
in the vountry a
long winding road
with flowers, trees
4 men I recognized
grabbed me put
me in a car took
me to a shack that
had been empty
for years raped
me over and over
after they were
done with me they
took me back threw
me out of the car
I was battered
bruised humiliated
I felt I’d done
something wrong
told no one
the quiet one, by gary jurechka
He had eyes of
black ice,
a night creature look,
like he possessed
secret knowledge
of what was around
the corner,
of what would happen
tomorrow,
or of what to do at
two o’clock in the morning
on a rainy Wednesday,
when streets are deserted,
dark and mysterious
and silent,
like his eyes.
letters, by j. speer
My mother saved all my letters and when she was at home dying of cancer, I typeset them on a manual machine, no electric connection needed. We listened to records I checked out of the public library: Pete Fountain, “Fountain in the Rain” and Duke Ellington, “The Cotton Club Stomp”. I dedicated a self published chap to her and picked up the books from the copy service the same day we lowered her into the ground. She is buried in Nashville in the military cemetery.
RAP 48
A person can take a vow to stimulate growth or initiate change. A vow is a promise between God and vow taker, to give up something or do something that will improve their life. A vow I’ve most recently harnessed myself with: to say yes to anyone who sincerely asks for help. This vow landed me a gig in Angleton, TX, where the husband of my friend Mary, keeled over from a coronary thrombosis. He was hospitalized long enough for surgeons to perform an unsuccessful 4 way by-pass. Mary was freaked out, left with a $35,000 bill and two small children. She said: “help me if you can, I’m feeling down, help me get my feet back on the ground”. I agreed to stay the winter in exchange for R&B and whatever she gave me for coffee money.
My main function was education of the young. The youngest child, Roy, at two and 1/2 still made excrement on the floor. I stuck his nose in it, spanked his bottom and set him on the commode. Within a few days, he learned a more hygienic routine.
Roy didn’t understand all the rapidly occurring events. He enjoyed turning the pages of the photo album. “See Daddy”, he said smiling.
I took he and his sister, Laura Beth, to the yellow double arch, where numbers bigger than the national debt indicate how many hamburgers have crossed the counter. I bought a cup of coffee and let the kids run wild with many other young people in the enclosed playground. I went for a Mac coffee refill, waited in line, returned to a seat near a window. Laura went round on the merry-go, but little Roy was not to be seen. I asked her where her brother was. She shrugged. I looked everywhere during the longest five minutes of my life. Finally asked the manager to call Mary: Come quick. Roy was missing. She arrived lickety split. As the manager, Mary and I discussed the problem, a lady approached us. “Did you lose a little boy?” she asked. It turned out that Roy had joined a private birthday party and was calmly munching french fries. He didn’t even realize he was lost.
Laura Beth was older and felt the trauma of papa’s death and mama’s anguish. When I arrived she frequently had nightmares, convulsive sobbing followed by her climbing out of bed to reach mother. During the nightmare, she wouldn’t respond to any questions, and next morning, when asked why she cried, she remembered nothing.
I woke up when she cried, and tried to intercept her before she disturbed Mary. During one of her incubus attacks, I noticed the time: 3:15 a.m. A couple nights later her fit occurred at 3:10 a.m. The time element was so curious, I began marking on a calendar the schedule of her nightmares. They always fell between 3 and 3:15 a.m. I asked Mary about it. “Oh,” she said, her eyes wide and distant. She explained that was the time Laura’s father died. He had been in the hospital one week when the phone rang late one night. A doctor told Mary if she wanted to see her husband alive, she better hurry. She roused the children, dropped them off at grandma’s house, and crying all the while, drove to his deathbed, too late to say good-bye.
Frequently thereafter, Mary bewailed her loss. The children knew she cried for Daddy. Laura Beth’s subconscious recorded the events and in response created nightmares.
Dealing with her nocturnal outbursts was a problem. Grandma suggested we sprinkle holy water on her bed. Mary let Laura Beth sleep with her. Nothing worked. But in time of need, a magic door often opens.
Randomly we checked several juvenile books out of the library. One was a story about a little girl that cried at night because an alligator under her bed made noise.
Her father entered the room.
“Why are you crying?” he asked. She told him. “Don’t be silly”, he said “just go to sleep.”
When she cried again, her mother came to investigate. The little girl had the same explanation.
“Try to think of something else”, mama advised. “You are disturbing Daddy and he has to get up early.”
The third time she cried, her uncle paid her a visit.
“So there is an alligator under your bed. What’s its name?”
“Alfred.”
“Alfred. I think I know what the problem is. Alfred is sad. He makes noise because he want to go home. Now, if we tell him . . .”
“Alfred doesn’t speak English.” said the girl.
“It doesn’t matter. But we have to get him out from under the bed.”
“He is stuck”, she replied.
“Then I’ll grab his leg and pull him out.” The uncle lead Alfred outside and closed the front door. “The alligator is gone. No more alligators.”
“The nightmares are gone”, I added. “No more nightmares. No more . . .”
Laura Beth’s nightmares lessened in intensity, and after a week, were gone completely.
Mother Mary was as much fun as a bump on the head. Every weekend she had a list: mow the lawn, wash the car, spray weed killer around the trailer, poison ants, dust, vacuum the carpet, arrange grocery coupons, ... we lived fifteen miles from the gulf coast and never went to the beach because she didn’t want the brine to rust her car. The high point of her day is to take a shower and eat dinner in front of the TV.
When winter ended I was ready to spring away from her. But according to my vow, I had to stay as long as Mary continued to ask for help. Fortunately, another call for aid reached me. Alice at the Circle A Ranch wanted me to come back and work for her. With two petitions, I had to choose. It took me less than a millisecond to make a decision. I was faithful to my vow, yet able to escape fastidious Mary.
Before reporting for ranch duty, I needed a brief vacation in Mexico. While in the Autobuses del Norte terminal in Mexico City, my vow was tested again. A well dressed young man approached me. He had been in the station all day, he said, unable to leave. I didn’t understand and he didn’t explain. We talked for a long time about archeological sites in Middle America, the ancient people of Mexico: Totonac, Huastec, Mextec, Toltec, Aztec, Zapotec, Olmec, Maya; and the history of Mexico: Cort?s landed in 1519, and was mistaken for the bearded Quetzalc÷atl who was predicted to return that same year.
The conversation played out and I prepared to leave. He then explained his trouble. He came to Mexico City from Villahermosa, and was robbed. He didn’t have money to buy a ticket. He said he had to ask me something and hoped I would not get upset. I knew what he needed before he finished his question. I also knew what my answer had to be.
He asked for enough money to get home. I gave him money for his bus ticket plus a little extra to buy food.
A vow is a test of character, a solemn agreement with God. Whatever the vow taken, if it is true, the vow falls away and you do what has to be done, because that is the right thing to do.
|
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.
|
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.
|
|
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
|
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
|
|
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.
|
|
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.
|
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.
|
|
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.
|
|
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
|
|
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.
|
|
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
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
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 (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.