Standoff

20 Thursday Jun 2013

Tags

death, frederick pollack, funeral, introspection, mortality, poetry, writers, writing

Was it from a movie?
not life, certainly –
The deathbed of some vivid man –
all the friends, wives, disciples,
forgiving children making
numinous remarks. And I
(First problem: why?) had somehow
forced myself among them.
But when my turn came
what I said was lame –
preserving personality
through mediocrity.

*****

Todays featured poem is from Frederick Pollack, a writer from Washington DC. To us, this poem speaks of finding oneself at a funeral (maybe of a loved one, a colleague or just someone you vaguely knew once) without much to say, even though you feel you must. A piece that deals with loss, mortality and introspection, Frederick paints a vivid picture with this poem for the reader to witness.

What thoughts, feelings and images do this poem invoke in you? Leave your comment below.

Orphan

19 Wednesday Jun 2013

Posted by dagdapublishing in Poetry

≈ 1 Comment

Tags

agony, death, depression, loss, poem, poetry, storm, writers, writing

When you were wrenched
from me by Death,
the unceasing rain drenched
my very being;
the nights of winds wild,
unsettled my soul.
No longer a child,
your heart left a whole.
Dreams half formed and turbid,
barbed and bound with
memories coherent and vivid,
reliving the dying embers of life,
orphaned words held hostage
to overwhelming inadequacies.
Reviling flames of rage,
and the significance of
the underlying situation;
a futile recreation.

*****

Todays featured poem from Alex is a tale of tragedy. Shot through with imagery of sadness, death, depression and the elemental force of nature, Alex weaves a story of heartbreak and loss. A clever use of alliteration courses through this, piece, and the imagery invoked tell of the emotional storm of the subjects loss. A worthy piece, deserving of several reads to delve into the meanings within.

Leave your thoughts below on this piece, and follow us for more writers like this.

Weekend Poetry Readings: Anne Sexton reads “All My Pretty Ones”

16 Sunday Jun 2013

Posted by dagdapublishing in weekend poetry readings

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Tags

all my pretty ones, anne sexton, dark poetry, death, loss, poetry reading, poetry recital, writing

Good day everyone. We hope this Sunday is treating you well. For this weeks poem, we have decided to go with some Anne Sexton, who along with Sylvia Plath, Anais Nin and Maya Angelou, we feel is one of the finest female poets of the 1900s. In this, the reading of her seminal, accomplished piece “All My Pretty Ones”, Sexton muses on her Father, personal family history, and the pain of loss and acceptance.

This poem really is Sexton at her best, her most introspective and darkest, and hearing the poem in her own voice lends a whole new level of meaning to this, arguably one of the finest poems of the middle of the 20th Century.

If you’ve not paid much attention to Sexton’s work before, then we’d like you to take this opportunity to take some time out of your day (it’s Sunday – what do you have to do? ) and discover her works for yourself.

- A little note now: We are setting up a newsletter and mailing list at the moment. Click the link to sign up, and stay in touch with us:
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Oil and Water

15 Saturday Jun 2013

Posted by dagdapublishing in Poetry

≈ 1 Comment

Tags

abuse, alcoholism, chris flame, dark, poems, poetry, writers, writing

The night is waiting patiently,
With a brand new batch of the blackest oil
Just for me.

I am greeted by mould and nicotine yellow
A rum scented slur from my father
The first sigh of the evening
Alone-sweet-home

He is a watermark on the sleeve of my mother
Like razor blade cuff links
She struck a mutiny at the age of 57
Penalty?
Exile.

So I have given up
With him and his bottomless cup
Illuminated by the sympathetic glow of
4 a.m T.V
Decrepit Dutch courage
And falsehoods in sepia
Do not mix well in the stomach
So he spews it over any patient stranger.
Time-waster-wine-taster
With a bad habit of swallowing.

Still this box of fools keeps afloat
Our hollowness promotes buoyancy
But my shoes are filling up
And my whiskey drinks itself

I’m under now,
And the oil is dropped
The sun is little more than a flicker anyway.
When you’re ten fathoms deep.

*****

Hello all, sorry about the lack of poetry this week, we have been having a lot of meetings, promoting our new anthology, and general things that come with being a publishing company. Never fear though, we have plenty of new featured writers coming up for your pleasure

Onto todays poem – Chris manages to evoke perfectly the dark, claustrophobic effects of living with abuse. Metaphorical, with accomplished, original word-play, this piece is evocative and tragic, drawing the reader into this dark, horrible world of alcoholism, loneliness and despair. There is very little hope here, no light at the end of the tunnel for this desperate situation that the subject finds themselves in. A piece that unfortunately many can identify with, but will find solace in these words and realise that they are not alone.

Leave your thoughts below on this piece by Chris Flame, and follow us for more like this. Also, we have a newsletter coming out soon – subscribe here for exclusive content, news and newsletter-only offers:
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The Eternal Judge

11 Tuesday Jun 2013

Posted by dagdapublishing in Poetry

≈ 3 Comments

Tags

guilt, life, memory, metaphor, poetry, post-symbolism, symbolism, writers, writing

The eternal judge,
with black cloak and heavy brow,
hangs as a thunder cloud around my head.
The sun has not the strength to shine
through such a shroud.
On verdicts diverse his gavel is swift
and I cannot whisper any plea but
guilty.

The infernal smith,
with fire bright and anvil cold,
within his wretched forge did sculpt my bones.
The sun has not the heat to match
such raging flames.
By passions passed on his hammer is led
and the red-hot iron of my will must
submit.

*****

A piece which brings up images of life, memory, guilt and the passing of time, this is a masterfully done, told in strong metaphor and complex layers of meaning. A short piece, which belies the depth of the symbolism and construction, “The Eternal Judge” is both striking and assured. Worth more than one read to truly appreciate the depth of effort and craft that has been poured into every word by Ryan Burley.

Leave your thoughts below on this piece.

Weekend Poetry Readings: Walt Whitman’s “O Captain! My Captain!”

09 Sunday Jun 2013

Posted by dagdapublishing in weekend poetry readings

≈ 1 Comment

Tags

dead poets society, leaves of grass, o captain my captain, poetry, poetry readings, tom o'bedlam, walt whitman, writing

For this weekends poem, we thought a bit of Whitman wouldn’t go amiss. Obviously, we couldn’t find a reading by Whitman himself, but this reading by Tom O’Bedlam will more than suffice, we feel. Tom has a channel on Youtube of hundreds of poetry readings, all of which are perfectly done in his own unique style.

Arguably one of the most culturally significant poems of the 19th Century (it can be argued that without Whitman, the legacy of American poetry would have been very different), and one everyone should be familiar with if they know anything about poetry at all, we felt that Whitmans masterpiece (abut the death of Lincoln) should have some space here on the site.

Sit back, click on the link, and enjoy this brilliant reading of one of the finest poems to have ever been penned. Tom’s Youtube channel is below, check it out and immerse yourself in his readings.

http://www.youtube.com/user/SpokenVerse

The Cold

08 Saturday Jun 2013

Posted by dagdapublishing in Poetry

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Tags

poetry, writing, poems, writers, literature, darkness, abuse, unhappy, cynical, black humour

Blindsided and left
outside an open door
my shoulders bent
from the rotted exchange,
yes, I killed you
but you’re not in the frame
so really,
does it matter?

I am a broken girl
staring at her muted reflection
on the dark hardwood floors,
backlight fading out my legs,
looking no farther
than where she will walk next.

No need to see the stench
of your rotting corpse,
his either.
My kitchen stove
doesn’t know you’re cold,
my sink never felt
anything for you
but my refrigerator
would like to spit in your eye.

I house a million pictures frames
that will gradually dismember you
as the carefully cleaned
glass shrinks
and the larger pieces
are needed
to reflect surreal smiles
and classic nudes at play.
It’s a misunderstood
innocence really,
a teasing fawn
with expectations
of being gutted
in someone’s garage.
The door opens
the knife sinks in
and I have someone else
to step over before
I can make my dinner.

*****

There’s something brutal and honest about this piece by Pamela Larson. Speaking of pent-up anger, frustration and domestic strife (certainly not bliss), this is a poem which tells the tale of the downtrodden, the unsatisfied, unfulfilled and resentful. Employing dark, murderous, almost sociopathic imagery throughout, Pamela captures that feeling of resentment and anger that countless people in unhappy relationships or family situations (whether faced with physical or mental abuse, or just plain indifference and a fizzing out of love that once was). A powerful, dark piece with no small amount of cynical dark humour, this is a more than worthy addition to our archives.

Leave your thoughts below on this piece, and follow us for more new poetry and literature. Check us out on Facebook too – there’s a lot going on with us at the moment.

Our latest collection “Western Haiku: A Collection” now available on Amazon and Smashwords

06 Thursday Jun 2013

Posted by dagdapublishing in News, Poetry

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Tags

charity, dagda publishing, haiku, poetry, publications, writers, writing

Well, the first couple of days of Western Haiku: A Collection has gone well.

Now onto eBooks: It is available on Amazon:

Western Haiku: A Collection

And, for those of you who don’t have a Kindle, we also have an .epub version uploaded to Smashwords:
https://www.smashwords.com/books/view/322608

Available at the price of £3.08 through Amazon, and $4.58 (which works out to around £2.99) on Smashwords.

Pick up a copy for your ereader (or if you prefer print, the link to Lulu is below), and help support new writers and our sponsored charity Scope (50% of sales proceeds for this title go to help them).

http://www.lulu.com/shop/r-j-davey-and-e-hulme/western-haiku-a-collection/paperback/product-21052785.html

Whilst you’re there, pick up a copy of our other fantastic publications, and help us to support charity and new writers.

Along the way (She)

05 Wednesday Jun 2013

Posted by dagdapublishing in Poetry

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Tags

metaphysical, paul hegginson, poems, poetry, romance, romantic poetry, writers, writin

I joined in,
This spinning creation,
Worldly unknown,
A sea washing the rocks,
Time is the sea,
And we are the…

I lost my way and found beauty,
The path was overgrown,
And the sun hardly broke
Through the haze.

I was, alone,
Mellow minded at midday,
I just went along,
Following the path that others trod before,
And upon the trees,
Upon the plants all around
Rested dew, from the night before,
All glossy and deep,
Breathless and sleepy deep.

The oak was semi naked,
And along the same thread
I saw the Russian Princess,
She was stretching and still young,
Her face was cast in beauty
And my soul shivered with belonging;
Her dress glinted in the white light
Of the hazy humid day.

In reflection her silence was her purity,
The day was heavy and moist,
My mind was wandering and lost,
It resounded in dark caves,
But she remained calm, as ever.
Green and red,
Along with the dead,
She submerged the day,
And her dress glinted in
The white light of the hazy day.

*****

Now for a piece by one of our regular writers. Paul tells this poetic tale with a degree of sagacity, and no small measure of wonder. There’s a certain Orphic sensibility to this piece, and certainly Paul finds his muse well, who seemingly captivates the reader like a Nymph, or a Siren. Equating beauty and the feminine power to charm and captivate with a mythological reverence for nature and her attendant mysteries, this poem is in the best tradition of the metaphysical and romantic poets of the 17th-19th centuries. A fine piece.

Leave your thoughts below on this poem, and follow us for more new poetry and news of our publications and various charitable projects (links in the pages above). Paul also has a book “Thinkulations” out through us, so if you like this poem and his style, pick up a copy from our store on Lulu.com today.

Dagda Publishing

~ Compelling literature.

Standoff

Orphan

Weekend Poetry Readings: Anne Sexton reads “All My Pretty Ones”

Oil and Water

The Eternal Judge

Weekend Poetry Readings: Walt Whitman’s “O Captain! My Captain!”

The Cold

Our latest collection “Western Haiku: A Collection” now available on Amazon and Smashwords

Along the way (She)

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