Public Republic

2010 Poetry Chapbook Contest Results Accents Publishing is proud to announce the results of its 2010 Poetry Chapbook Contest. Metes and Bounds, by J. Kates, was selected by judge Dr. Richard Taylor. Plein Jeu, by E. C. Belli, was selected by Accents Publishing Senior Editor Katerina Stoykova-Klemer. Both of these entries will be published as […]

Peter Kraevski Photo: yogendra174 Oh, fruit of light! Swell with love! Ripen with sadness! Sweeten juices – dreams! And let your fragrant thoughts be honeyed dew upon your tender skin!

Donal Mahoney Photo: bsabarnowl Rogers Park, Chicago This brilliant winter morning finds waves of snow on every lawn and red graffiti dripping from the walls of Temple Mizpah once again as down the street stroll ancient men who every morning shuffle here for prayer.

Michael Lee Johnson Photo: Robert Marin Rebecca fantasized that life was a lottery ticket or a pull of a lever, that one of the bunch in her pocket was a winner or the slots were a redeemer; but life itself was not real that was strictly for the mentally insane at the Elgin Mental Institution. […]

Colleen Harris Photo: the bbp He wrote about dull mountainside detail, said they wanted books on anything but war. Ecstatic the way only a librarian can be, she mailed ten boxes and promised more.

Martha Gehringer Photo: flikr On the subject of bad weather the red rough Burren cows are sage: if only to say that in wind like this      that drives the rain     like a whipping you must pull together,                haunch to haunch,                     and bow your heads                          and be.                That simple. Bow your tufted heads                        and                     be.

Simon Perchik Photo: claire1066 No one gets hurt, you pump into a parachute, cup one hand to float down, the other as if water could rub off the way the sky still gushes from the once blue Earth and your sleeve tearing apart

Martha Gehringer Photo: Tony the Misfit (Isaiah 58:5) The trees               scrub the winter sky—               scour away the grey—                             and I, I bow my head                        like               a reed.

Julie Barbour Photo: ciadefoto I long for you, the sad heat of your skin, the flakes of skin in your hair, your shallow breath when you sleep, your sour breath haunting the room. I long for your voice, grouchy, uncertain,

Donal Mahoney Photo: Lady-bug My wife has a problem with any poem I give her to read for a second opinion especially when the poem has no message and my goal is simply to hear what I’m saying and not care if I understand it.

Simon Perchik Photo: JennyHuang And you, licking this reef the way herds are nourished with salt –even your tongue has a trace, bitter, brackish stings though salt is what keeps stone stone

Aksinia Mihailova Photo: bslmmrs When you leave pieces of yourself in the bodies of other women and try desperately to find yourself complete in the words, I see our home like a ghost boat floating against the current of the river; but the boatman is not there and the night is falling I recollect only […]

Kristin Dimitrova Photo: crsan During the concert, between Iron Men and Bark at the Moon the music kicked out at faces of screaming kids, rock veterans with thinning muscles bashed their gray ponytails, teenage girls

Julie Barbour Photo: 11259551@N02 I chased the sun into the horizon until it fell away then chased the moon, howling in my loneliness. The doctor said to give it two weeks but who has time to wait

Kristin Dimitrova Photo: benandbarnet Like an ant that hauls a crumb but has forgotten where the ant-hill is, she stares at details, then cleans the sink very carefully. These things that happen in films, who invents them?

Martha Gehringer Photo: gmehender Velvet blue behind— sheer white before— and rain             like a curtain                          pulled.             The furze                                waves            its fuzzy paw.

Kristin Dimitrova Photo: In a N.Y. State Of Mind To my grandmother and yours ‘My grandmother and I got on with each other without meaning to. I didn’t mean to say that.’ ‘I remember how she kneaded and kneaded with her arthritic hands while I hung around asking her to give me a little piece […]

Mariana Velichkova Photo: hickory hardscrabble You have told me: Your heart is a bird. On my question What kind?

Colleen Harris Photo: The U.S. Army So still, you couldn’t have been anything other than hunkered down, waiting to weather the next barrage. I was sure of it. You were tucked tight, and dead men sprawl the way men do after mind-numbing sex.

An interview by Yasen Vasilev and Natalia Nikolaeva with Virginia Zaharieva Translation from Bulgarian: Asya Draganova “Stories can teach, repair mistakes, enlighten the heart and chase away the dark, they can provide psychological shelter, and contribute to change and the healing of wounds.” Clarissa Pinkola Estés The reason for our meeting with Virginia Zaharieva is […]