Children, Churches and Daddies

Editorial

One good turn deserves another... so following the prose issue of children, churches and daddies, we should naturally expect the poetry issue. We’ve got some of the best writers in this issue, as well as some well-known names in the underground scene as well as new faces.

lunchtime poll topic

In the Movie Heathers, four snotty high-school women would come up with a weekly question, and poll everyone in the cafeteria for an answer. The called it the Lunchtime Poll Topic, and answers would be funny, bold, interesting - but at least they made you think. We here are Children, Churches and Daddies thought it would be a good idea to foster some discussions - or debates - of our own with a monthly version of the Lunchtime Poll Topic.
If you’re interested in being a part of the Lunchtime Poll Topic questioning, email me with your email address, and your answers can be printed here. If you’re interested in responding to a Lunchtime Poll Topic that you’ve seen in print, email or mail us and we may use your letter in the Letter To The Editor section.
So here is the question: What would happen if marijuana was legalized in this country?

Heather Hoffman, Editor, Interrobang

First, a rush of frenzied drug use, along with some lovely general “public panic” messages courtesy of the religious right.

Then an even more annoying rush of anti-drug campaigns (focused on minors) set up by the bonehead liberals.
The end result will be the following:
You’ll be able to smoke it in your house if you’re over 21, and only if all of your guests and fellow residents are over 21. If a guest or resident doesn’t like you smoking pot ANYWHERE inside the house, (or even outside the door), He/She will be able to haul your ass into court. With very little evidence, you’ll go to prision for six months.
How this is different from the present day, at least in the form of public opinion and penalties, I’m not exactly sure. I just do not see how they could avoid the advertisers boycotts, the “save the children” lobbies, and the American Lung Association without making legalilizing marajuana more of a pain than it’s worth.
I once rolled a joint about ten feet away from an onlooking police officer in San Francisco. She watched me roll it, shrugged her shoulders, and went off to find something more important to do.
Obviously, the War On Drugs is going well...

Ben Ohmart, Writer

Pot’ll Never be legalized in the US. We’re too moral here. I don’t think it’s even an argument. Because for it to be an argument, there has to be the possibility of 2 sides, and what politician is going to try to make a law for something that’s “bad”. Oh yes, it’s “bad” to do drugs. If MTV says it, it must be so.

Brian Tolle, Film Director

the question is plagued by the age old problem. it has been hotly disputed, by pot smokers. but people who don’t smoke pot rarely discuss pot, unless they are confronted with it.
with no first hand knowledge of a subject, one must rely on knowledge obtained through other, less accurate channels. on the subject of pot, that information is rarely, if ever positive in the public arena.
a person who has never watched the smoke pulse and flow through a water bong; never had their head suddenly illuminate like the Genesis Planet after the probe explodes; never written their mind like a stream, swift and right comming from a mountain sky- a person who has never NEEDED to get doughnut at 4 in the morning, because they are hot and if the world is to make sense, then the knowledge accumulated to this point all says ‘get a doughnut’; never felt that if the person next to them were to keep talking until the end of the world, they would never run out of thoughts so beautiful, they brought a tear to the eye; never woken up on thursday thinking it was monday, not knowing when the last they’d eatten, or smoked, or watched t.v was-
a person who has never smoked pot can never make a judgement on if pot should be ‘legal’ or ‘illegal’, ‘right’ or ‘wrong’. they can talk about depression, and dependancy, and brain dammage, and low sperm counts, and deformed babies. and they can say ‘why would anyone want to do that to themselves?’
will pot ever become legal in the eyes of the american law? i don’t think so. there are many reasons, the fact that drug programs are cash programs for law enforcement plays a big role. there is also all of the ‘education’ about drugs- the it’s bad because i said so tactics. ‘oh bad, bad, dirty dirty drugs.”
this is your brain. this is your brain on drugs.
take this statement and apply it to things the public embraces. television. cops. family values. alcohol. working eleven hour days at a job that doesn’t respect you so you can become more dependant on a consumer economy so that you have to work more to be able to aford to forget that you work so much until you just GET TIRED so you turn to drugs or alcohol or sex or screaming in the corner of the bathroom because you just can’t handle it.
this is my mind on drugs.
i embrace the first bud i ever drew timidly to my lips. i embrace the first person who said to me “i’m not into that, i’m high on life” and hated themselves because there had to be something more. i attribute the opening of my mind to my brief dependance on pot.
yes, that’s right, don’t be naive. pot IS addictive, and like most other things in life, it isn’t the healthiest thing.
but it and the people that invariably go along with it, have broadened my mind in ways that i could never have expected. i have had the opportunity to think deeply about many things, and see many truths. not man-imposed truths, but truths.
there was a reason shamen have believed that they could talk to the spirits with the drug.
do i sound like a hippie? i’m no hippie. and i don’t worship the great god pot. it’s just the way it is.
i am not a ‘pot advocate’ going around to people and saying softly ‘pot is the way to peace.’i do not believe there should be a law in the books outlawing pot. but by the same token, this assumes everyone has the wits to self govern, which is something we need to teach ourselves, because no one will do it for us. just because i don’t think pot should be illegal, does not mean that i thnk we should get baked all day. there is a time and a place for everything, and when pot is used in a construtive, positive manner, it can be the gift from earth. but when it is used for escape, and to ease pain and problems we are afraid to face, this is the pot of health class text books, the pot congress sees, the scapegoat.

Alexandria Rand, Writer

I really think it’s a shame that we can’t use the plant (without the drug), since it has so many applications. Paper is made cheaper and stronger, and hmp plants are more remewable than trees (and also give more back to the soil). You can make clothing... Oh, this is pointless. Too many people are against it, too many people would abuse it. But it is a shame we’re cutting our nose off because we can’t see the big picture.

Chad Maier, Representative, Sony Music

i think the world would be a much better place. a lot less crime, and a lot more happy people. less deaths, more money for the govt. (taxes, etc), more jobs. a lot less people in jail. and plenty of people who just wouldn’t get anything done.
it isn’t because the government has the best pot, and they don’t want to regulate it, because that means that everyone would get weak pot. seriously. the goverment has a larger amount of control than everyone thinks.

J. Kenneth Sieben, Writer

our present system of outlawing marijuana is a travesty that brutalizes thousands and thousands of people who did nothing to harm anyone else. Mandatory sentences for victimless “crimes” are foolish. I’m not a crazy pothead advocating anarchy. The fact is, I’ve never used marijuana and probably would not recognize it by sight, smell, or taste. But it does me no harm and does not destroy our society if you or anyone else uses it. If we legalized it, there might be a sudden increase in its recreational use, but my guess is that would level off pretty soon. Most kids want what they can’t have and soon lose interest in the non-forbidden. That’s probably a bit too glib and smug, so I recommend caution, pilot programs (NYC for two years?), and education. But let’s stop putting people in jail.

Jerianne Thompson

I think it is a shame that marijuana isn’t legalized because, as a result of its illegality, hemp is also illegal. This should not be so. Hemp and marijuana are two different things. And hemp is a good plant that can be used for many, many different things. It’s a durable fiber, and it’s easy to produce.

Gabriel Athens, Writer

The government could make a ton of meny in taxes if they legalized it, but I don’t know if that’s a good thing or not.

Michael Estabrook, Writer

I suppose that all drugs should be legalized simply because we can’t beat it and organized crime gets more and more powerful and is killing more and more people and at least if drugs were legalized then maybe we could “control” it a bit and also take some of the money and hence the power away from organized crime.
I don’t use drugs so personally I have nothing to gain no ax to grind I would simply like to see organized crime not so organized and not so efficient at killing and hurting people.
Without money they would be nothing.
But like I said my response is a simplistic one and doesn’t amount to a hill of beans.

poetry

shoveling snow, by by Ray Heinrich

concrete, by Ray Heinrich

over my skin with such ease, by alexandria rand

T H E B L A C K T O W E R, BY PAUL L. GLAZE

father’s tears, by Janet Kuypers

untitled, by carol brown

untitled, by carol brown

Xmas Party 5 Floors below Madonna, by brian daly

I don’t know how to fuck, by brian daly

Bingo, by michael mcneilley

epiphany, by michael mcneilley

Zero Bottles o’ Beer, by brian daly

Gone Blonde, by brian daly

New Orleans, 1995, by jon powell

#Loss is an Aphrodisiac, by Mordantia Bat

they called it trust, by Janet Kuypers

motorcycle, by janet kuypers

THE BURNING WIND , by (C)1995 By Paul L. Glaze , Poetaster@Aol,Com

C A N D Y C H R I S T M A S, BY PAUL L. GLAZE

Blue Collar New Year’s, by michael estabrook

Cocoon, by michael estabrook

Conversations with Aunt Dotty, by michael estabrook

“I don’t smoke much anymore, keep my cigarettes in the refrigerator. My father was caretaker for Moravian and Woodland cemeteries, we lived in fact on the cemetery grounds, but he and Mother didn’t get along, they divorced. I married, had a daughter, then I divorced, but married again for a year this time, he was a real jerk, then once more I married, to Bill, I loved Bill, you know that, but it didn’t work out, we divorced and later he killed himself, shot himself in the chest with a shotgun. I don’t know where my daughter Barbara is. Seems I lost her in the shuffle.”
“Mother told me that as a child she never had a Teddy Bear or a doll, she was so poor, so when she turned 82 I bought her a Teddy Bear. She died soon after, and I was going to put it in the coffin with her but Linda talked me out of it. Now it’s on my bed. I kiss it every morning, and every night. I do miss Mother so. I’m 73 now and alone, recently had a mini-stroke, but I’m still trying to be active, visit my friends in the nursing home, do meals-on-wheels.”
“The problem with me, with my life, is that all 3 of the men I married were boozers.” She shrugs. “I’m a loser that’s what I am, a loser.”

sadness, by alexandria rand

Confession , by J. Speer/ John Knoll

a life goes by, by janet kuypers

1978. Mom and Dad on vacation. Sister in college. Grandma babysitting. She taught me how to play Gin Rummy in the living room. I smudge the finish on the wood table every time I put my hand on it. We play cards for hours.
1983. Grandma is over to baby sit. Sister comes home. “Why isn’t dinner ready, Grandma?” “I didn’t know how to turn on the oven.”
She was a sly old fox, my sister said. She knew how to turn on an oven. Got out of having to make dinner. The chicken kiev was a half hour late.
1986. Spring. Friday, 4:55 p.m. Mom and Dad and Sister dressed for dinner. Dad is waiting for Mom at the door. They still had to pick up Grandma before they drove to Mike Moy’s Restaurant. Mom is checking her eye make-up in the bedroom mirror.
I stand in the doorway to her room. Are you sure you don’t want to go with us?”, she asks. I’d rather stay in the house by myself, play loud music. I was a rebellious youth. I say no. “Tell Grandma I said hi.”
1988. Sister calls. “Grandma is moving to Arizona,” she says. “She’s going to live with Aunt Rose.” She’s leaving in five days.
3 days later. I call her. I tell her I will try to visit her next summer. I tell her I will miss her. I already do miss her. She says she loves me.
I hang up, thinking that she usually doesn’t say that she loves people. She isn’t usually affectionate. I start to cry.
3 days later. I visit family. Father hugs me. He hiccups while crying.
She died this morning, they explain to me. But don’t worry about that now, we’re late for the Christmas party.
I’m in a car. Sister is driving to the family party. We are quiet. She finally speaks. “Are you okay?”, and I tell her that I will be fine. What she doesn’t realize is that I don’t say that I am fine. I look at her face. She turns her head from the road to look at me. I notice now that we really do look alike.
Something in Sister is dead. She is hiding the pain, and it is killing a piece of her. I think a part of me is dying, too.
At the party. Everyone is laughing. Brothers, sisters, nephews, a niece, an uncle. A sister-in-law says to me as she says hello, “I’m sorry.” I try to get drunk on punch.
Sister pulls out a pile of presents for the family. They are from Grandma. Jesus Christ. She died this morning. Somebody say something.
She bought me a pair of earrings.

after the war, by Ray Heinrich

poetry

HE PROMISED, by cheryl townsend

SILVER AND BLACK, by anthony robottom

HIS YOUTHFUL ASS, by cheryl townsend

the big carnival, by Joseph Verrilli

HIS HANDS WRAPPED, by cheryl townsend

You Want to Know?, by anthony robottom

HE TOLD, by cheryl townsend

Autoevangelspect, By Peter Scott

Behind Those Silent Eyes, By Peter Scott

Burning, By Peter Scott

i don’t get attached anymore, bycheryl townsend

coquinas, by Janet kuypers

I can’t imagine
the number of times
I’ve been there
visiting Florida,
Christmas with my parents
a plastic tree
decorated
with sand dollars
and red ribbons
eating Christmas dinner
listening to Johnny Mathis
and after the Irish coffee,
father with his brandy snifter in hand
mother and the other
girls
putting away the dishes
the carolers would come,
walking in front of our home
singing “We wish you a
merry Christmas”
over and over again
we would walk outside
and the cool breeze
almost felt like Christmas
after the hot
humid days
and we would stand on our driveway
smile and nod
you could see down the road
all the candles in
paper bags
lining the street
and for a few lights
the bag
burned

2

and we would take
boat rides
off the coast
my parents and their friends
to a tiny island
dad drinking beer
sometimes steering the boat
control
the women sitting together in the shade
worrying about their hair
i would sit at the front
sunglasses, swimsuit and sunburn
feeling the wind
slapping me
in the face
and turning my head away from the boat
into the wind
away from them
to face it again
docking at a shoreline
everyone jumping out
little bags in their hands
the women go looking for shells
the men go barbecue
after an hour or two
the sandwiches, potato chips eaten
the soda and beer almost
gone
we turn around
and head back
we have conquered

3

and I remember
the coquinas
the little shells
you could find them alive
on the beaches north of the pier in
Naples
going to the beach
I would look for a spot
to find them
they were all my own
they burrowed their way into the
sand
to avoid the light
worming their way away from me
I unearthed a group of cocquinas once,
fascinated with their color of
their shells, the way
they moved
before they could hide
I collected them
in a jar,
took them home with me
what did you teach me
what have you taught me to do
is this it
is this what it has become
is this what has become of me
of you
of us
and I took them home
I added salt water and sand
but I couldn’t feed them
I realized soon that they
would die

so I let them

I FELT HIS, by cheryl townsend

The Last Hobbit, by Holly Day

I POLISHED MY NAILS FOR THIS, by cheryl townsend

Pariah, by Holly Day

I TOLD HIM OVER A BEER, by cheryl townsend

I LEFT MY FUTURE, by cheryl townsend

my way out of this poemPast, by Holly Day

Being There, by emil p. dill

Dr. Hussey’s Living Room, by gene fehler

Viewing Life From My Kitchen Window, by gene fehler

A Teacher With a Stack of Lives To Read, by paul beckerman

Norris Springs, by Carolyn Files

Cancer, by emil p. dill

Twenty Years on the Way Home, by s. r. laclaire

Guilt, by john hayes

one summer, by Janet Kuypers

2.
Sheri. The heat of Arizona smelled like burning flesh. I met your
roommate, your friends, drank at the Coffee Plantation,
iced mocha coffees. And I met you-know-who,
I still don’t want to say his name.
He kept me occupied, no, he made me feel alive,
alive to someone who had never lived before,
alive those long five days. I could still mark the day
on my calendar, the day my life was supposed to
change, the day I was supposed to be free. But
it was supposed to be something
good, I was supposed to start caring for myself. Then why
does a part of me regret it?
He bought me a rose the day I left. And you
took pictures of us.
I thought that morning that it would be justice
to never hear from him again. To leave it at that.
But then I had to call him from the airplane
on the trip home. Why?

3.
Joe. You had to be cruel to me, just this once. I thought
we had been through enough, went through
our own little hells already because of each
other. I know we had our differences, but I was looking
forward to seeing you, to seeing southern California, the
stores, the glamour, the beaches, the
commercialism. And you, you had to cart me away
with your religious troops to the wilderness,
leaving me at the campsite while you went off
to church. And I sat there for days,
watching us, watching us become bloodthirsty, we were
trying to hurt each other, we were
like animals, you starting your life with me in tow.
And I saw the redwood forests.

4.
Douglas. I never imagined how beautiful the
east coast could be, rolling hills curling one state
into another. We’d drive up a hill in your
truck and I would lift my head, my chin as high as I
could in anticipation to try to see
the other side, the sloping down of those hills.
I remember walking along the beach
in Maine, restored buildings lining
the rocky shore, the fog so thick
you couldn’t see fifty feet in front of you. And
people were suntanning. And I photographed the
lighthouse - how do they work in the fog
like this? It’s so thick, thick like the cigarette smoke
coming from the inside of your truck when we would drive to
ntique shoppes in New Hampshire. Thick, like a powerful force
overcoming someone, that holds you there, that doesn’t let go. Like us.

5.
A week before the smoke and the hills
I was in the Midwest and
my father was screaming at me,
two weeks before I was thousands of miles away
dreaming of someone else. And it wasn’t a month ago when
I was skipping past the old Kennedy house, where movies
were made, where this all began. And now, in this truck with you,
I lean back, watching the scenery travelling past me
streamline into blurred lines of color,
and I think of marriage. Maybe with you,
if time wears on, but probably not, I just
think of marriage, to someone. Marriage,
streamlining life into a blur. Settling down. Settling.
It’s funny how your surroundings change you.
And soon, I know, I will go back home,
carrying my possessions in a tweed bag
with duct tape on the handle, to get back to
something.
Driving through the plains to go back to life,
it will all be the same again.

social disconnect, by s. r.. laclaire

Beelzebub’s Allegiance, By Peter Scott

Bending to the Bond, Naked in View, By Peter Scott

Birthday, By Peter Scott

Black Tofu, By Peter Scott

Blessed Incognito, Part III, By Peter Scott

The Curse of Twentysomething, by John Mark Ivey

It amazes me how much attention we the twentysomethings are getting from the mainstream media these days.
If they’re not trying to make a movie for us, i.e. “Reality Bites” (didn’t see it), they’re trying to label us with some God-forsaken corny moniker. Like Post Baby Boomers (sounds too much like a cereal), Generation X (Billy Idol’s old band!?!), Apathy Babies (alliterates too well), twentysomething (a rip-off from that thirtysomething show) and Baby Busters (too gruesome, think about it).
They keep saying we’re a lost generation, that we don’t know where we’re going, that we’re misunderstood. What’s there to understand? Half of us were latchkey kids who were baby sat by Curtis Mathes while the others were busy trying to keep up the with Baby Boomers that preceded us.
I’ve faced that fact that we know entirely too much television trivia and are destined to follow in the footsteps of the Baby Boomers for the duration of our lives. I think at the root of our problem is having to follow the over publicized, over glorified and aforementioned Baby Boomers, who have been hogging massive amounts of the nation’s attention since WWII.
I hate to admit it, but Baby Boomers grew up in one of the best periods in our nation’s history. They put the word “teenager” in the dictionary and changed the meaning of the word “cool” forever.
Like any generation, Baby Boomers are best defined by the culture they were exposed the during their formative years. Unfortunately, we the twentysomethings are as well.
Let me make my point more apparent.
They grew up listening to the Beatles, and we had to hear Paul McCartney and Wings. They got John F. Kennedy, we got Jimmy Carter. They had Lassie, we got Benji.
They lusted after Marilyn Monroe, we had to settle for Suzanne Somers. They played their Rock ‘N Roll, while we were collecting Disco records from K-Tel, New Wave cassettes, and Rap compact discs. They watched “American Bandstand”, we watched “The $25,000 Pyramid”.
Baby Boomers envied Howard Hughes, we envied Donald Trump. They got “Satisfaction”, we got “Physical”. They hitchhiked to Woodstock, we watched Live Aid on MTV.
They listened to Aretha Franklin in the back of their pink Cadillacs, we listened to Donna Summer in our little red Corvettes. They watched “Dragnet”, we turned to “T.J. Hooker”.
They stuffed themselves into telephone booths and played with their hulahoops. We threw Frisbees and watched “Super Friends”. They liked Ike, we wanna be like Mike. They watched “Gunsmoke”, we watched “Fantasy Island”.
They went to see “The Graduate” over and over again, we went to see “The Breakfast Club” over and over again until “St. Elmo’s Fire” came out. They got Jimmy Connors, we got Andre Agassi. They got Apollo 7, we got Space Shuttle Challenger. They had Little Richard, we got Prince.
They cruised around in Ford Mustangs, we rode to the mall in Toyota Celicas. They got Ed Sullivan, we got Ed McMahon. They got Norman Bates, we got Freddie Krueger.
They got Howdy Doody, we got Pee Wee Herman. They got Mickey Mantle and Joe DiMaggio, we got Pete Rose and Billy Martin. They got Sean Connery’s James Bond, we got Roger Moore’s James Bond.
They got the Doors and the Beach Boys, we got Kiss and the Bay City Rollers. They had Walter Cronkite, we got Geraldo Rivera. They had James Brown, we got Michael Jackson.
They were inspired by the Rev. Martin Luther King, we try not to snicker too hard at the Rev. Al Sharpton. They got Andy Griffith, we got John Ritter.
And they wonder what’s wrong with us. How can we compete with such a vastly different quality of cultural foundation?
After all, Baby Boomers got advice from June and Ward just like the Beaver. We the twentysomething got our parental guidance from Mike and Carol and sometimes Alice just like Greg, Marsha, Jan, Bobby, Cindy, Peter and Bobby. I think that just about says it all, don’t you?

Nick DiSpoldo, Small Press Review (on “Children, Churches and Daddies,& #148; 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& #148; of politics. One piece in this issue is “Crazy,& #148; an interview Kuypers conducted with “Madeline,& #148; 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& #148;). 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& #148; 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& #148; 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& #148;) Some excellent writing in “Hope Chest in the Attic.& #148; I thought “Children, Churches and Daddies& #148; and “The Room of the Rape& #148; 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.& #148; 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& #148; 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& #148; 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& #148; 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& #148; 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& #148; 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& #148;, the 2001 book “Survive and Thrive& #148;, the 2001 books “Torture and Triumph& #148; and “(no so) Warm and Fuzzy& #148;, 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& #148; 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& #148; 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& #148; 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& #148; 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.& #148; 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.