Recently a piece of creative writing of mine has been published in the Alebrijes Online Journal of Creative Arts. The journal is live and you can follow the link to find the journal's home page.
The staff did an amazing job and the journal looks amazing. The format is sleek, democratic and visually pleasing. Hats off to the staff. You can follow the link at the bottom of this post to find the current issue of the Alebrijes Online Journal of Creative Arts.
In spending time with the journal, the work of Abigail Goldberger immediately caught my eye. The way that she mixes fairytale mythos with the macabre is dangerously alluring, and the vibrant colors are both bright and lively yet counterbalanced by a sense of foreboding in their rendering.
In deed, I was pleasantly surprised with the sophistication of the visual art in the journal. This is not in any ill-willed way, just in the mystery of what the journal could be. I am happy to have been selected for publication and pleased with the quality of work from the contributing artists and writers.
I am publishing the two poems that were not selected for publication by the editorial staff below. And, if you are in the mood for more brooding creative writing, you can follow this link to where my writing lives... that is, when it isn't in journals and periodicals: http://tavarusblackmonart.com/word.html
Goddess of Mercy (A Monster’s Twilight Recompense)
To love you Luna
I dream you- hard.
And, in the morning
You are pressing in my Elvis region.
A sturgeon: “And, how many eggs does she lay?”
And thus, how much protein can a peanut-headed-boy perform?
It only took but two times
To make two daughters
Who suckle the witches’ teats.
So from this storm
We blow kisses at the moon
From the streets.
Grab-Ass - Fault
Tick-tock I dropped my dick- it seems I’m always falling,
Break a heart, slash my wrist, I hear my mother calling.
Babies in the kitchen, yes, Mama’s pouring honey,
I’d like to take a bill collector- stuff his ass with money.
Walking down these pissed-on streets, pretty women wonder:
Could they milk my chocolate teats? Don’t hurt to ask- no bother.
This sun, this smog and fiery days, what’s that: a stupid talker,
I hear it from my pedestal- the pudgy, judge-y gawker.
Pull it out baby, now- gulping down the cow’s milk,
Mix a little co-co in it, put it where it hurts,
You learn to live with assholes but one’d rather look up skirts.
Whom gone’ be the President- wrote Clinton with a crayon,
They pen-pal to my Dr. but it’s God I think I irked.
The sexy one-the Mexy one, love China, Russia’s calling,
Beauty walking round the world-
My dick is always falling.
Who will be the President?
Roll another joint,
Stick it in,
Full of sin,
I guess
I missed
The
Point.
Pull
It out,
Scream and shout,
Brothers’ in the joint.
Mama’s on her death bed but I guess I missed the point.
Babies always crying because I guess I missed the point.
Ladies always whining cause she trying to make a point.
So take your gun,
Senators son
And point it in the mirror,
The inner self that scares us all
Is what we truly fear.
My inner self is speaking to me- hear it loud and clear,
It says my dick is falling cause it’s safer than a beer,
It says my dick is falling-love to all- and never fear,
It says my dick is falling
For, for you,
I’m falling dear.
Follow this link to engage with the arts:
http://www.alebrijeslit.org/current-issue/
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