Blackbird:  journal of literature and the arts

Blackbird: journal of literature and the arts



hi Christine's Dedham here and I am going to talk about Blackbird and online journal of literature and the arts it's from VCU which is Virginia Commonwealth University and and also new Virginia review I looked at two editions one was fall of 2018 volume 17 and one was spring of nineteen which was volume 18 you can see their website is organized very well we've got poetry right here fiction nonfiction have a gallery for the art and I also found a play on there it was really fun special features and a browsing tab they talked about new to Blackboard about what they publish and about their name and about submissions all the guidelines the editorial staff yeah there they are and special acknowledgments and links it was founded in 2002 by Virginia Commonwealth University's English department and the new for the new Virginia review you can subscribe to it and I just go to it online you click on here I'm currently in the new spring of nineteen one the poetry that they publish I found is very contemporary not really a lot of form I noticed a lot of new names and a few times I found names that I was familiar with that I really liked like Kwame does he had three poems in this edition this volume and if you want to go see this was the spring of nineteen so like I clicked on core made talks about him has his three palms listed their bones in the soil very nicely laid out there's the vanishing and there's broth and then in you want to go back to the previous one go to the archives archive button and then I went down here to last fall's and there is copy Akbar love him and then I looked at his poem right here my favorite one was what I am looking for is is what is looking you also see these little audios you can actually listen to it don't get it to work you can download the audio or you can print what I am looking for is what is looking a single day is all I need for now and enough wool to close a tribe weightlessness destroys all muscle even the heart which requires the burden of its own heft to keep rhythm say what you will about God but he is certainly inventive in an instant he could tear apart your father then build you a new one from the pieces like a mother trying her own milk he is growing more and more curious by the minute I am wearing his wonder like a long tape squinting into the fog covering my yawns behind me his silence ahead is joy different from anything I've ever known his joy when I was four years old I was already nostalgic for three my face was so bright you could only make me out by the chair juice stains on my cheeks I wanted to keep everything I touched a red spoon a saffron country a dying cricket this made each meal last for ages I'd inspect the table take the tiniest bite of bread then hold it in my mouth till it went sweet there's always a hair that divides what is false and what is true I have been collecting each of these weaving them into a luscious wig which I must respectfully insist I'd be allowed to wear to any occasion the best lullabies keep tempo with the mother's heartbeat god exhausted by silence finally built himself a world filled it with fallen rain and animal cries some days it's difficult to hear him tapping along over all the clamor some days it's difficult to hear anything else so I really enjoyed the poems that actually had the poet reading it there's also the contributors notes to read about them and all the acknowledgments I also like to Kate Gaskin poem in which my husband deploys and our baby and I moved back with him in with my parents now that one only had a print and didn't have her reading it but I thought that one was really good I pretty much liked everything that they had in here like I said all very contemporary not a lot of form a lot of free free verse that I really enjoy the fiction short stories they have nonfiction and also reviews and I thought like I said the gallery was really neat they've got here an example of a play talks about the arsonists this one has got a film everywhere in the kingdom talks about this right there and in the in the current issue you click on that current issue and there you open it up click on it and in that gallery they have this is a play called exit interview so she has the script right there it's kind of neat and then this strings was really some beautiful art so they've got a little bit of everything on this on this feature here Gallery Willa Cather so they have some information about Willa Cather that's pretty neat so a little bit like I said a little bit of everything I really enjoyed this go back to the current issue spring 19 all the information about the poet's which is pretty normal but oh wait sorry these aren't the poet's these are yeah they are the new poets this one was introductions of reading loop they would think a reading loop that recognizes new artists so that was really interesting they provide links to other literary magazines and the people that contribute to this like I said it's from VCU Virginia Commonwealth University so a lot of students a lot of interns and MFA and ma students and got acknowledgments of their board there was the editorial staff again and we're back to the beginning like I said I spent most of my time enjoying the poetry they have quite a few pieces in here this is just one spring one there's all the fictions so less fiction unless a less nonfiction and then at some reviews and then the gallery so eat so again it's twice a year and just go to Blackbird dot BCU edu to find it maybe we will go out with let's see do see what's this was a good one so if it doesn't have one that you can listen to go back to the archives and I can with that last fall Invader and housefly so this one does have the audio portrait of the alcoholic with home invader and housefly it felt larger than it was the knife that pushed through my cheek immediately I began leaking blood and saliva softest smoke I had been asleep safe from sad news dreaming of my irradiated hairless mother pulling a thorn from the eye of a dog I woke from that into a blade everything seemed cast and lápis and spinning light blinking ancient trees and Damascus listened to me faithful silence somehow we've become strangers growing up I kept a housefly tied to a string tied to a lamp I fed him wet Tic Tacs and idly assumed he would outlive me when he died I opened myself to death the way a fallen tree opens itself to the wild now my blood is drying on the pillow now the man who held the knife is gone elsewhere and undiminished I can hardly remember anything about him it can be difficult telling the size of something when it's right above you the average cumulus cloud weighing as much as 80 elephants the things I've thought I've loved could sink an ocean liner and likely would have given the chance from my window the blinking windmills seemed further away than ever before my beard has matted itself into a bloody pulp TISS and a woman's voice on TV is begging for charity she says please and reads a phone number soon I will mumble a few words and Arabic to settle back into sleep if morning arrives I will wash my face okay well I tried to do it both forwards and backwards on my phone and I couldn't get that to work so sorry you couldn't see me I'll try to also post a picture so I ran a little over so goodbye

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