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About Literature / Hobbyist Senior Member RaquelFemale/Wallis and Futuna Groups :iconglory-be-project: Glory-Be-Project
 
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Hello all my Darlings,

Sorry I've been absent. I'm terribly behind here and I see about a bagillion messages and some notes to respond to and I've started trying to catch up, but I likely won't anytime soon. Last couple of months have been a sorted variety of hell.

So first my last ferret died, that makes three in six months to cancer. Don't really want to get into it because it makes me angry and sad and all sorts of unpleasant, but I'm going to miss my little Tatsu.

Got incredibly sick shortly after, probably due to being a big sobbing mess, and then somehow developed allergies for the first time in my life. Getting old sucks. So I've been dealing with a whole shitload of allergy related issues, mostly which center around my eyes. I've spent several days half blind and have had to mostly wear my glasses. I've worn my glasses more in the last five weeks than I have in the last six or seven years combined. I loathe my glasses as they make me dizzy (I have a crazy prescription and the difference between focusing with lenses on my eyes versus out on my nose is a pain). Also, whereas I've always been able to work my 40 hours a week on a computer and then work on the journal and my own writing and dA after-hours and most of the weekend, my eyes are no longer able to handle it. At this point, I'm lucky on days I can do anything outside of work, including reading a book.

So, I've been freaking out. I have three books to review in the next month and a half (I'm now on staff at Up the Staircase Quarterly and Stevie Edwards will be mailing me her latest book as soon as it's off the presses this month; I have a Stephen Fry book to review for Atticus Review; plus a translated book to review for our journal) as well as our issue to read for and compile that's out in April. Icing on the cake is this special feature that's supposed to be out this month on our site--I've been waiting to share this for SIX MONTHS--that I am preparing to contact it's contributors and inform them that I have to delay until May or June. I simply cannot trust my eyes to work on days I have the time and I've been advised to get the fuck off my computer start resting them. Well, not in that verbiage, but the whole thing has made me quite pissy so I'm just going to get it out: SHIT FUCK MOTHER TWAT PISSBUCKET.

Not all is dismal, however. Jenner has moved to California for his new contract, which means I'll be following in a couple of months. While I'm not excited to be back in California, I cannot work my job out of that state (laws and shit) so that means that I will no longer be in front of the computer for 40 hours during the week for work. He's also agreed to let me go either unemployed or get a very part time job for a while so that I can focus on my own writing and future plans. God I love that man. I've been invited to intern with Sundress Publications (love love love them, like mega humps, you can quote me on that) once I get to California and through December (after which point I'll rejoin the job market). I'll have time to catch back up on my journal responsibilities, look into grad school (I'm planning to go for my Poetry MFA before an MA/PhD in publishing), finish some work I have sitting around, etc. So there is a rainbow in my future, if I can make it through the next couple of months.

Also fun: I have a minichap (Coyote & the Birds) coming out with Origami Poem Project, a little place I've had my eyes on for a while. Not a major credit, but I adore what they do ("An Origami Micro-chapbook presents poems arranged on a single sheet of paper that is folded, origami-style, into a palm-sized book.  Download the PDF books to print, read and share).  Should stave the itch to submit my longer works until I am focused enough to give them one last go-through. Anyways, Origami's pretty cool, and anyone who wants to test the water with a short poetry collection, I suggest checking them out: www.origamipoems.com/  If you're accepted, make sure to note me so I don't miss it. I know several poets they've published, but nobody on dA that I can think of. And that is sad, because you are all awesome bitches.

Like clockwork, my eyes are starting to swim, so I'm going to wrap this up. I miss you all immensely. I'm going to leave my account up for now instead of deactivating, and I hope you'll catch me up with a comment on all your latest happenings. It may be a bit longer before I can respond but I will look forward to it.

XOXO

-Raquel
My poem: THE DEPARTUREMomma, your daughter is dripping down the side of the world, dissipating slowly.
I thought you should know.
At night I hear the police helicopter circling like a fat buzzard, contemplating if it
will kill- perhaps, not kill. It hums as it picks the city clean while I am a sieve,
howling hungry. I gape and gape and run right through the days, thinking: to kill
or not to kill. I thought you should know.
Tuesday rolled into Wednesday and I was caught somewhere between, slipping
through myself. I dreamt of orchards: tart citrus splitting my tongue and bees
working themselves through my hair. Grandpa was there, asking after Grandma,
his shirt, crisp from the iron, eclipsing the fruits. He was no more reachable than
the summers he spent under the verandah, his shirt, crisp from the iron, safe from
the sun. I was eight, treading water, and from the edges: bursting oleander. You
were coming to pick me up, Momma. When I dried off, my legs read: MEAN MEAN!
MEAN and I was balled
was included in issue #27 of Up the Staircase Quarterly upthestaircase.org/rhiannon-th… which just received a review over at New Pages. I was mentioned, pretty cool!

"...Editor April Michelle Bratten does a great job of selecting art that not just opens the issue well, but also chooses aptly when it comes to the images paired with each poem.

The poetry section starts off strong. Rhiannon Thorne’s “The Departure” kicks it off. Beginning: “Mama, your daughter is dripping down the side of the world, dissipating slowly,” readers are immersed in the speaker’s dissipation, “caught somewhere between, slipping through myself. I dreamt [. . .]” Louis Staeble’s “Radiate” is the accompanying photograph; its muted tones and texture pair nicely with the atmosphere of Thorne’s poem.

With a completely different mood than Thorne’s piece, Al Ortolani in “Fox on Greenway Lane” recounts the release of a trapped fox back into the wild..."

More: www.newpages.com/item/28410-up…

PS, also in the issue? :iconamoxes: :heart:

by Amorak Huey

I have begun to see my body as gap, absence, rending:
the hole between a moment
and the more meaningful moment that follows.

Between, say, calling to request “Legs”
and the DJ finally playing the song.

Between my friend’s stepfather careening home
and the yelling downstairs.

Between pushing play and the tape beginning to turn.
Between the tape and the sound.

Or the pause between Oooh, I want her and Shit, I got to have her.
Oh, to sing like that. To be honest about desire.

The broken porch light. The dark driveway. The squealing tires.
We have no idea what we want or how to escape.

My friend is embarrassed by his stepfather’s swearing,
by the store-brand cola in the refrigerator, by his own mutable flesh.
My friend doesn’t look down when he pees.
My friend has no idea how I feel about his older sister,
her thighs and the Judas Priest concert shirt she wears to bed
my plans to tap softly on her door

after everyone else falls asleep and before this narrative falls apart
because I have no idea what happens next –

how the time might pass between that moment and the rest of my life.

I have no idea how old I am in this story. In any story.
I will never feel any different than I do right now but I do not yet know this.

My friend has to get up early
because he goes to church with his mother on Sunday mornings.
Also Sunday nights and Wednesday nights.
This is so much God, you have no idea.

On their way to salvation, they will drop me off at home
because I do not have appropriate clothes.
I will lock myself in my room and catch up on my dreams:

the ripening. The fall. The chasm between.


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'Tis the season!
Killing the Spring

When the cold rains kept on and killed the
spring, it was as through a young person had died
for no reason.
Ernest Hemingway, A Moveable Feast

Spring had been bulldozed under.
She would not, would not, would not.
Late April, late May
and the metallic rains kept on.
From my gun-metal window I watched 
how the dreadful tulips
swung on their hinges,
beaten down like pigeons.

Then I ignored spring.
I put on blinders and rode on a donkey
in a circle, a warm circle.
I tried to ride for eternity 
but I came back.
I swallowed my sour meat
but it came back.
I struck out memory with an X
but it came back.
I tied down time with a rope
but it came back.

Then
I put my head in a death bowl
and my eyes shut up like clams.
They didn't come back.
I was declared legally blind
by my books and papers.
My eyes, those two blue gods,
would not come back.
My eyes, those sluts, those whores,
would play no more.

Next I nailed my hands
onto a pine box.
I followed the blue veins
like a neon road map.
My hands, those touchers, those bears,
would not reach out and speak.
They could no longer get in the act.
They were fastened down to oblivion.
The did not come back.
They were through with their abominable habits.
They were in training for a crucifixion.
They could not reply.

Next I took my ears,
those two cold moons,
and drowned them in the Atlantic.
They were not wearing a mask. 
They were not deceived by laughter.
They were not luminous like the clock.
They sank like oiled birds.
They did not come back.
I waited with my bones on the cliff
to see if they'd float in like slick
but they did not come back.

I could not see the spring.
I could not hear the spring.
I could not touch the spring.
Once upon a time a young person
died for no reason.
I was the same.
Hello all my Darlings,

Sorry I've been absent. I'm terribly behind here and I see about a bagillion messages and some notes to respond to and I've started trying to catch up, but I likely won't anytime soon. Last couple of months have been a sorted variety of hell.

So first my last ferret died, that makes three in six months to cancer. Don't really want to get into it because it makes me angry and sad and all sorts of unpleasant, but I'm going to miss my little Tatsu.

Got incredibly sick shortly after, probably due to being a big sobbing mess, and then somehow developed allergies for the first time in my life. Getting old sucks. So I've been dealing with a whole shitload of allergy related issues, mostly which center around my eyes. I've spent several days half blind and have had to mostly wear my glasses. I've worn my glasses more in the last five weeks than I have in the last six or seven years combined. I loathe my glasses as they make me dizzy (I have a crazy prescription and the difference between focusing with lenses on my eyes versus out on my nose is a pain). Also, whereas I've always been able to work my 40 hours a week on a computer and then work on the journal and my own writing and dA after-hours and most of the weekend, my eyes are no longer able to handle it. At this point, I'm lucky on days I can do anything outside of work, including reading a book.

So, I've been freaking out. I have three books to review in the next month and a half (I'm now on staff at Up the Staircase Quarterly and Stevie Edwards will be mailing me her latest book as soon as it's off the presses this month; I have a Stephen Fry book to review for Atticus Review; plus a translated book to review for our journal) as well as our issue to read for and compile that's out in April. Icing on the cake is this special feature that's supposed to be out this month on our site--I've been waiting to share this for SIX MONTHS--that I am preparing to contact it's contributors and inform them that I have to delay until May or June. I simply cannot trust my eyes to work on days I have the time and I've been advised to get the fuck off my computer start resting them. Well, not in that verbiage, but the whole thing has made me quite pissy so I'm just going to get it out: SHIT FUCK MOTHER TWAT PISSBUCKET.

Not all is dismal, however. Jenner has moved to California for his new contract, which means I'll be following in a couple of months. While I'm not excited to be back in California, I cannot work my job out of that state (laws and shit) so that means that I will no longer be in front of the computer for 40 hours during the week for work. He's also agreed to let me go either unemployed or get a very part time job for a while so that I can focus on my own writing and future plans. God I love that man. I've been invited to intern with Sundress Publications (love love love them, like mega humps, you can quote me on that) once I get to California and through December (after which point I'll rejoin the job market). I'll have time to catch back up on my journal responsibilities, look into grad school (I'm planning to go for my Poetry MFA before an MA/PhD in publishing), finish some work I have sitting around, etc. So there is a rainbow in my future, if I can make it through the next couple of months.

Also fun: I have a minichap (Coyote & the Birds) coming out with Origami Poem Project, a little place I've had my eyes on for a while. Not a major credit, but I adore what they do ("An Origami Micro-chapbook presents poems arranged on a single sheet of paper that is folded, origami-style, into a palm-sized book.  Download the PDF books to print, read and share).  Should stave the itch to submit my longer works until I am focused enough to give them one last go-through. Anyways, Origami's pretty cool, and anyone who wants to test the water with a short poetry collection, I suggest checking them out: www.origamipoems.com/  If you're accepted, make sure to note me so I don't miss it. I know several poets they've published, but nobody on dA that I can think of. And that is sad, because you are all awesome bitches.

Like clockwork, my eyes are starting to swim, so I'm going to wrap this up. I miss you all immensely. I'm going to leave my account up for now instead of deactivating, and I hope you'll catch me up with a comment on all your latest happenings. It may be a bit longer before I can respond but I will look forward to it.

XOXO

-Raquel

Comments


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:icondevilicious:
devilicious Featured By Owner Jun 25, 2015  Professional Photographer
:heart: how in the  hell ARE you?  :)
Reply
:iconlexi247:
Lexi247 Featured By Owner Apr 26, 2015
Just stopping by to say hello :hug: Have a wonderful day~!
Reply
:iconria-bigender:
Ria-Bigender Featured By Owner Apr 9, 2015  Hobbyist Photographer
Thanks for the watch
Reply
:iconvespera:
vespera Featured By Owner May 18, 2015  Hobbyist Writer
very welcome!
Reply
:iconlombregrise:
lombregrise Featured By Owner Mar 27, 2015  Professional Writer
hi!
Reply
:iconvespera:
vespera Featured By Owner May 18, 2015  Hobbyist Writer
HOWDY
Reply
:iconroses:
roses Featured By Owner Feb 7, 2015
Still think of you too sometimes. It's been a very long time... and I'm not sure what I have left to offer, but perhaps we should talk sometime. I've continued reading your stuff sporadically over the years... You've gotten better. But still the same, still you.
I hope you're doing well girlie. Another time perhaps.
Reply
:iconjade-pandora:
jade-pandora Featured By Owner Jan 8, 2015
:hug: Dear woman you --- I was going to post the Tag a Quality Deviant "GOTCHA" thing, but someone beat me to it and I can't put you through a 2nd Tag even though I was tagged several times and I'm fulfilling more than those two together even require.  But instead of a redundant tag atcha, why don't I just do what I feel from the heart.  That I think highly of you, with respect, but also in awedom of your talent(s). With love, and remember to always:
BElieve in YOUrself by KmyGraphic :heart:
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:iconvespera:
vespera Featured By Owner May 18, 2015  Hobbyist Writer
:heart: :heart: :heart: :heart: :heart: :heart: :heart: :heart: :heart: :heart: :heart: :heart: :heart: :heart: :heart:
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