*”Rebekah always has turmeric stains under her finger nails. Multiple pairs of intentionally mismatched socks and always choses the most inconvenient way to accomplish mundane tasks, such as struggling to open the bottle of lavender oil after using the coconut oil — not before.”
We’re mostly familliar with the American sentence (if not, we’re familiar with Google so figure it out), and now I think it’s time for the minor evolutionary off-shoot of the sentence: T-shirt worthy Declarations.
I think at some point, in the blurr of good conversation we’ve said one or two things that warranted the response “Dude, I wanna put that on a t-shirt!” Those well conceived, concise ideas that we share and get praise for and then they just…dissipate. Well, instead of letting it disappear, send it to us. We might love it so much we actually put it on a t-shirt and gift it to you.
That’s right; we have an actual prize for this one. Amazing.
Declare some stuff at us and potentially get one more shirt away from being naked.
GUIDLINES: submit all declarative statements to gutpunchpoets@gmail.com as a .doc, .pdf, .docx of .rtf if you have a specific way you would like this work presented, send as an image file. This challenge is open INDEFINITELY until further notice.
Good luck and get published,
Emma (and Ricardo)
Ricardo and I have done some talking and we thought it would be best to be outright with our audience. This blog/publication was made because the both of us genuinely love blunt, hard-truth poetry that uses common modern day language with powerful efficacy in its delivery of the emotional message. The endings are especially important to us; definitive, heavy endings that leave no question as to what’s been said. You might even say we like our poems like a gut punch.
So please, we encourage all you people reading this now or years from now; submit! If you think you have work that fits this description go for it! We want to publish you, we want to share with our community the kind of work we love. You’d be surprised how well received your flinch-inducing poems can be.
I hope this clears up things for potential poets, and we hope to see submissions from you.
Good luck and get published,
Emma
Waterbottles make water
taste like plastic, I can’t
move my limbs faster
than a whale, intelligent glue
nestles in my joints
and spurts to dry too quickly.
I used to hate in pyrotechnics,
now I smoulder and water
hisses when it comes near me.
Emotion doesn’t wet
ears or appetites anymore
I only want to run
in fits I can’t express.
Red holes hold better grudges.
My jowels bug me the most
and I want to use my picture
as a dart board to puncture
the blown up, disgusting girl.
If I could punch hard, have it hurt–
my Self would be first.
I drag out of bed daily
I’m beheading myself in the backyard.
Splinters stick out from the wooden handled
Axe, raised hairs on an injured wolf,
her wrists behind her back
she cranes her neck up and gives me
a gleaming mouthful.
She knows she can never die.
*A kickboxing poet, Gut Punch Poetry is Nicole Reese’s first publication. Worldly wonderment and spectrums of thought are what revs her lifestyle art in constant impromptu for 12 fingers.
Paul Murufas lives and writes in California’s Bay Area. He has written three books of poetry with art: Paranoid Poems for Times of Turmoil, The Nihilist Romantics and dystopian’s codependent syndrome. Paul’s nonfiction writing has covered a range of issues, including technology, unrest, the environment, police brutality, and the drug war.
Paul is offering his new book of poetry for free and has been kind enough to give us a link to the document as well as the below poem to spotlight from his latest collection of work. The book can be found here: Paranoid Poems for Times of Turmoil and his fascinating blog is Paul Murufas.
*The editors would like to apologize for the layout of the blog causing all line breaks to default to the left.
I know I said I’d put up a weekly challenge every Tuesday, but Tuesday became yesterday a day ago. These things happen. Anywho…
Here’s the weekly challenge: TELL ME WHY YOU DID THAT THING
We’ve all done some awful, sad things in our lifetimes, or at least I would hope so. And maybe we don’t understand our own motives behind those things. So why not think of a factual or fictional thing someone might do and list off their motives behind it. Maybe look up what Florida Man has been up to and try to figure out his line of reasoning behind the random escapades he gets into. Florida Man is just so prolific.
All poems must be no more than 96 lines long, any form is acceptable, 12pt font. Please submit all poems in an .rtf, .doc or .docx form to gutpunchpoets@gmail.com. Deadlline is 8/13/15. All winning submissions to be published by the deadline.
Good luck and get published.
Emma
Alright, we’ve been dead quiet our first few weeks and that’s rather dull. So, I think it’s about time we had a challenge and encouraged some people to come out and play. Once a week, let’s put it at Tuesday, I’ll post a theme or idea, maybe a starting line and you, person of indeterminate motivation, will do the rest.
Let’s start.
CHALLENGE 1 : The Cliff’s Edge
Have you ever had that moment in a night of drinking where you sort of take a step back from what’s happening, pay attention to what state of mind you’re in versus what state you perceive your social group to be in, and think “I don’t feel that drunk” and then things just go straight down hill? Where does that lead? Maybe it’s not alcohol that’s taken you from a specific point of self-awareness right off the edge of reason. It could be anything. A kiss. Some coke. No judgement here; we just want to know.
Give us a poem of no more than one page length (preferably) in a separate file of either .doc or .rtf file type about that turning point in the night and where that turn led to. We’ll post it and let you know if you’ve won a spot in our future anthology. The first anthology will hopefully come out when we’ve got about 50 poems and will be a smaller print, parts will be potentially done by hand.
SUBMIT TO gutpunchpoets@gmail.com
Good luck and get published,
-Emma
War
I declare war
on death and decay
on illness and health
and your golden day
War
on edible delights
delectable treats
on sugar and spice
Monstrous war
against glittering hopes
my sinking despair
strung upon faltering ropes
War
on forks, knives, and lies
languidly carved
scorched black in cold fires
No
War
on how was your day
on quietly passing
I am not ok
Luminous is a long time writer currently working toward a BA in English Literature. She began seriously writing only fantasy fiction and short stories with sparse forays into poetry. Recent incurable health problems have begun to inspire more harsh and emotional tones in her writing.
This is a poetry blog that aspires to be a proper, sometimes physical, collection of poems from people who like to use poetry to make other people feel feelings. We are especially (read: only) interested in poems with really powerful endings; endings that feel like a gut punch. If you think you write this kind of angry, heartbreaking, bitter, heavy-truth sort of poetry then, by all means, please contact us with your work and a short bio, we would love to see if we can’t form some sort of literary simbiosis with you and your art. Current Editors/Creators of Gut Punch Poets
This is an Emma
Emma is a student at Long Beach City College, currently picking away at getting an AA like it’s an annoying scab. She hopes to one day be published in something other than her own poetry blog. Which she hasn’t even been published in yet. Recently, she has discovered she has a knack for MC’ing open mics. Also, if you ask her about Tor she won’t shut up. Just a huge free software, free hardware advocate. For someone who’s pretty stupid about computers and their inner workings, it’s actually pretty impressive
This is Ric
Ricardo is also a student at Long Beach City College, though he spends less time picking at scabs. He also hopes to one day be published but he’ll settle for scribbles on a cocktail napkin. Friend of cats, whiskey, dealer in insomnia text messages, and a fan for the dizzy morning after.
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