Is(sue) 16 is live!

Dear Kinfolk,

Is(sue) 16 is live! It has work from 7 countries and 12 states in the U.S.

The Arch(ive) for Is(sue) 15 is a poem by John Paul Caponigro, artwork by Edward Supranowicz, and a short story by Barbara Kumari.

The submission period is open for the “Come Hell and High Water: Helene” Special Is(sue). It is absolutely vital that you put “HELENE” in the subject line of your email. Otherwise, we will assume that email is a submission for Is(sue) 17. The deadline for this Special Is(sue) is January 15, 2025. Please, read the guidelines under the submissions page tab and the information about this Special Is(sue) on the home page before submitting.

Kinfolk, you make this ezine everything that it is. So keep that weird, wonderful, experimental, fun stuff coming! You are amazing!

www.avantappalachia.com

Sincerely,

Sabne Raznik

Poetry/Art Ed(itor)

Review of Douglas Cole's "The Cabin at the End of the World"

Douglas Cole, The Cabin at the End of the World (Unsolicited Press, 2024) 98 pages, poetry, $16.95 US. Order here.

This reads like a pandemic book. It is full of frenetic energy as if we are inside the head of a shut-in with cabin fever. It starts out as a collection of prose poems rooted in locations. We bounce around the U.S. with a series of snapshot-like moments and roll-call listings of street names. And lines like these:

"I wash my face. I make food. I look out a window. Time is very slow. Winter extends itself. I lift weights, think or read. Spring is under glass. And if you read much further, you become part of the fable." - "Distances"

As the book evolves, however, the energy calms, the poems change form, and you are introduced to the title cabin and the (increasingly more content) human who inhabits it. Therefore, this book represents a journey. At first, it seems quite external perhaps. But it becomes clear that the journey is an internal one of someone learning to enjoy a measure of solitude in a "cabin at the end of the world".

Lines that stood out:

"he has to say stone and stone again" - "Drive Through"

"Darkness swallows the city down to its diamond feet and snakeskin streets" - "Infinite Gaze"

"a drone-dead sky blasted open with no parachute to cling to" - "Notes for The Grey Man"

"Like an abandoned theatre, as I wander through the empty rooms because there's no one else here. Time is happening without me." - "Caught in a Dream"

"water can tell how it took down mountains to liberate you" - "West Cove"

Disclosure: I did receive a free review ebook copy to read in order to write this review, as is industry standard. 

Kevin Kiely Reviews "Faller"

New review for "Faller" avalaible free on www.sabneraznik.com

"Faller" by Sabne Raznik 

These fictional poems from Raznik come with a ‘trigger warning’ 20 years after the 9/11 Twin Towers Tragedy in New York. The Photo of “The Falling Man” is referenced along with those of the others who died. Raznik says ‘I borrowed a word from the sport of steeplechasing, one that I feel is more accurate, fully inclusive, and carries no stigma: Fallers.’ 

Her hyper-delicate, hyper-sensitized material is red flagged thus: ‘Nor is it meant to cause pain to anyone who lost loved ones that day. Nor is it meant to trigger anyone who battles depression and suicidal ideation’ […] ‘this book is a personal psychological purging.’ Impossible to not engage in some give-away of content within FALLER by sampling lines at random. There is anonymity held to, in that those who are among the Faller(s) and falling 'are' in flights of time, speed, rapidity and fleeting reality which makes this a fast-forward plunge with the words, it cannot but be: language falling into or onto where? 

This depends on your own personal reading as to what place, space or time you arrive 'within' reaching the last line. Here are clusters of word-scape that fell out as this review aspect-wheeled through the lines of Sabne Raznik in FALLER. 

The urgent poems are stark as in: 

‘I remember reading in school about

The Triangle Shirtwaist Factory Fire, 

How some jumped to their death 

Rather than burn since there was

 No way out.’ 

‘When I land, they’ll be precious little left 

More than an imprint in the sidewalk. 

Hope I don’t hit anyone below…’ 

‘Like we were standing inside the sun. 

So much paper around me, like snow. 

I am snow now.’ 

‘Do you remember, little brother, how we use to 

Drop water balloons off the fire escape? 

Count how long they took to fall? 

How we tried to film impact and slow down the tape? 

Our science projects? 

It’s like that.’ 

Raznik has also released a collection of artworks Renaissance: Visual Art 2005 - 2019. She founded and co-edits AvantAppal(achia) ezine and believes herself to be a supranational poet, in that she feels the arts transcend manmade boundaries. 

- Review of Sabne Raznik FALLER. © Kevin Kiely., Poet, Critic, Author; PhD (UCD) in the Patronage of Poetry at the Edward Woodberry Poetry Room, Harvard University; W. J. Fulbright Scholar in Poetry, Washington (DC); M. Phil., in Poetry, Trinity College (Dublin); Hon. Fellow in Writing., University of Iowa; Patrick Kavanagh Fellowship Award in Poetry; Bisto Award Winner. Recent Publications include: ‘Stratford-upon-Shakespeare and other Lies’ AND 'The Principles of Poetry DI + ID = Ѱ Psi' Books available on AMAZON.

Announcing New Release: "Faller" by Sabne Raznik

A collection of poems written as if in the voice of some of the "fallers" on 9/11/2001, not from a political view, but as a way to process the collective trauma of that day and as a tribute to those lives lost.

Faller is another profound collection by Sabne Raznik. intense, emotional and surreal. "The world is beautiful/At velocity." is only the first line out of all these poems that caught my eye. it makes me stumble. the beauty of this image at the emotional terror that proceeds. moving back and forth from mundane tasks and thinking of children, to the thoughts and questions of falling. it touts your mind. it pulls you in many directions. and then the beautiful love sadness of:

I was afraid to jump alone.

The jacket of my waiter’s uniform felt
Claustrophobic
So I threw it out first.

Then a woman from Table 3
Took my hand and we jumped together

Wordlessly.

so i threw it out first. that line echos in my head. the way the jacket becomes a bird. an image of acceptance, before the calm. - john compton, my husband holds my hand because i may drift away & be lost forever in the vortex of a crowded store

In Faller, a collection of poems, Sabne Raznik makes you really feel for the people who fell from the Twin Towers on 9/11. These poems, written in the voices of those who fell, are heart-wrenching. They make you think about what you would do if faced with certain death. If you were judgemental of the people who fell, you won't be after reading these evocative poems. The voices in these poems are so realistic, it's like it actually happened to the author. She puts you in these people's shoes. I've complained about things like a fax machine on the job before, so lines like: "The coworker who complains/about the copier was/standing on her desk/ because the floor burned/through her shoes" really strike a chord in me, make me realize how miniscule and petty my office complaints are in the light of a building burning so fiercely that you have to escape, even if it means certain death. When you read these poems, there is no way you can possibly think of these fallers as suicidal. These poems have eye-opening lines: "The world is beautiful at velocity. Just colour./Like an abstract painting." You really feel the tragic quality of the situation when you experience these voices: "I quit yesterday./I'm just here to get my things." You will come away with a new perspective on having to face death after reading these sad but beautiful, evocative poems. - Lori Lasseter Hamilton, limo casket

 Available for free on Sabne Raznik's official website. 

Announcing "Come Hell and High Water: Helene" Special Is(sue)

 

Dear Kinfolk,

The deadline for Is(sue) 16 is closed so, if you sent in submissions for that, you should hear back from us in the next couple months on those. And Is(sue) 16 should go live on December 15, 2024.

Therefore, it is time for us to announce the “Come Hell and High Water: Helene” Special Is(sue)! This is our tribute to the before-and-after geological and emotional event that Helene proved to be for our beloved Appalachia. It is your opportunity as our Kinfolk to express your emotions around this traumatic time, and for our mountains and people, as they recover. Unlike the regular is(sues), special is(sues) live on the website for as long as the website exists, under the “Special Is(sues)” page tab on the menu. Special is(sues) have the same sub(mission) guidelines as the regular is(sues), with the exception that you must put “HELENE” in the subject line to differentiate submissions for this special is(sue) from those meant for a regular is(sue). That is vital. For this special is(sue), sub(missions) will open on Wednesday, November 6, 2024, and the deadline will be January 15, 2025. The Is(sue) will go live on February 15, 2025. We hope that this will provide a cathartic and healing space for us all.

So, by all means, send us your poetry, art, and short stories expressing yourselves experimentally and therapeutically about Helene. We’re here for you.

www.avantappalachia.com

Sincerely,

Sabne Raznik

Poetry/Art Ed(itor)

Review of the book "Hortensia: in winter" by Megan Merchant

Megan Merchant, Hortensia, in winter (New American Press, 2024) 66 pages, poetry, not released yet at the time of this review. Preorder info here.

Hortensia: another name for the hydrangea flower. It's also the poet's ancestor who was a follower of Joseph Smith. After Smith's death, and when that Church accepted polygamy, Hortensia broke with Brigham Young and followed Joseph Smith's widow. That belief system ended with Hortensia, it seems. Merchant is a non-practicing Catholic. In this collection, Merchant explores the connection of generations through time.

In profound, lilting lines that feel as though they ought to appear on glossy photo paper surrounded by peonies - cozy like a coffee shop but trendy like an interior design magazine - Merchant seeks to tie the mundane motions of her everyday life back to Hortensia to empathize with her. How do the tiny details of living repeat across generations? How can ancestors we never knew bring comfort when we learn significant news? Merchant asks these questions of Hortensia. Although the book is composed of prose-poem meditations that are mostly inward-focused, the overall effect feels like an attempted conversation. Where Hortensia fails to speak in return, the poems tend to read as letters to Hortensia, rather than as mere thoughts.

This is one of the best collections of poetry I've read this year. 

Lines that stood out:

"I want to ask the hard questions, but they sharpen back to god." - "Invocation"

"Were you given the smallest room in the house of your own life? I am gifted a single window." - "Helpmeet"

"A woman's work, I was taught, was to endure. ... A woman must remain pure." - "Applying to Sainthood"

"Now no daughter will seed. I will be scraped clean." - "Merciful"

"I am learning the landscape of my lineage now... I'd like to find more than a name to hang in the rearview mirror." - "Picking Wild Berries"

"What notes still play in my blood? What warnings?" - "Score"

"I take your silence as permission to continue." - "Famine"

"Hymn" - the whole poem

"To sink into the earth is a gift ... a kind of holiness ruptured." - "Have You Branded an Animal that You Did Not Know to Be Your Own?"

"Salvation" - the whole poem

"This year I am hungered down to bones." - "How to Describe Winter"

"Regret is a scratch of light between trees." - "Watching the Praire Fires as Pastime" 

"The abyss I feel in my bones." - "Portraiture: Dark Room, Self in the Mirror"

"My interior is unchurched. ... the way the wind is tongue-tied at the mountain base." - "Love"

"The testimony of wreckage, beautiful." - "Harmonies"

"The only thing that matters is what comes after the last word." - "Invocation" and "Revision" 

Disclosure notice: I received an Advance Review Copy of the book to read and write this review. No money was exchanged.

Is(sue) 15 and New Schedule - AvantAppal(achia)

Dear Kinfolk,

Is(sue) 15 is live! There are 7 countries total and 10 states within the US represented. This includes our first contributions from Egypt and Peru.

The work chosen to be arch(ived) from Is(sue) 14 is JWM Morgan's story, Volodymyr Bilyk's art, and Joshua Martin's poem. Read it on the Arch(ive) page.

Check the Sub(missions) page. We have made our longstanding policy regarding how we arch(ive) past is(sues) even clearer so that there can be no confusion that you as the author of your work bear responsibility for keeping records of publication and not us. Also, the date of deadline for each is(sue) has changed.

Deadline for Is(sue) 16 is October 31, 2024. So send us your avant-garde and experimental poetry, art, and short stories! You make this ezine the foremost home of the Avant in Appalachia. We are special and weird because of you. Thank you!

www.avantappalachia.com

Sincerely,

Sabne Raznik
Poetry/Art Ed(itor)

 

Review of "Word Troubadours" by PJ Swift and Ellyn Maybe

PJ Swift and Ellyn Maybe, Word Troubadours (2024) 32 pages, poetry, $10.00 PDF; $15.00 Physical book. Order here.

Ellyn Maybe is a spoken word artist I first came across when she was in the Los Angeles area about 15 years ago working in a creative group centered more or less around Beyond Baroque that included the likes of Yvonne de la Vega, Ray Manzarek (formerly of the Doors), and Michael C. Ford who took Beat concepts, wrapped them in a confessional flare with a punk rock graffiti edge, and rapped them - sometimes whimsically, sometimes cooly, sometimes sing-songy - over jazzy soundtracks. This is the first of her works I have encountered as a purely on-the-page experience. This is also a collaboration with PJ Swift.

This creation is titled Word Troubadours and music is therefore an important theme throughout. Music, singing, performing, visual art - this collection is the space where poetry intersects with most other forms of artistic expression. PJ Swift presents the metaphor of poem as a Rave and Ellyn suggests that life is a Musical. I personally would argue against both concepts as being either misconceived or over-romanticised, but each to his/her own. Still, that gives you an idea of the highly unconventional, almost dreamscape of these poems. And I'm always excited by hyper-imagined, nonconventional mentalscapes in poetry.

Ellyn Maybe includes a kind of personal Odyssey with "Ellyn Maybe's Dream" where she travels to Prague - whether only in dream or also in waking life, I'm not sure - and has a transformative experience that involves a gargoyle. 

Some phrases I wrote down that stand out:

"We resist the temptation to crawl into the world/ and pull our psyches over our heads./... We need our exuberance more than our math." - "Cinema Dance" - Ellyn Maybe

"I know how men make women wear armor of all kinds" - "I Heard What Sounded Like A Song", Ellyn Maybe

"Perhaps life is like a multiple choice question my friend/ The answer's in a circle dance with no beginning or end." - "Somewhere in the Sky", Ellyn Maybe

"an era whose burdens/ have granted no choice" - "Creation of Myths" - PJ Swift

"avalanche in the bones of the land" - "Train", Ellyn Maybe

May these Word Troubadours keep on soothing our souls with their songs and stories of our time for the ages to come.

Review of "Fill Me With Birds" by Scott Ferry and Daniel McGinn

Scott Ferry and Daniel McGinn, Fill Me With Birds (Meat for Tea Press, 2024) 104 pages, poetry, $16.95. Order here.

 

Those nights when you stay up past midnight and the conversations go silly and then profoundly deep, that's what this is.

 

Two mature men muse on everything from aging parents to children, to marriage, to health issues, to overcoming addiction, to God, to the changing of seasons, to resentment and forgiveness. The poems are written as if letters or emails going back and forth. But in my head cannon, they are sitting in a late-night living room in front of a fire passing a (legal) smoke between them.

 

At times, it can feel almost too intimate and honest for the reader to eavesdrop on politely. This is good stuff. 

 

Most of the lines I made note of were Scott Ferry's, I think, though I didn't track who wrote which line. If you want to know that, you can read it. But here are some of the lines that stood out to me:

 

"I know now it is too late for/ bargaining// the best I can manage/ is obsolescence"

 

"the face of god: is the inside of longing when there is no waiting left"

 

"Nerves are like brains,/ remember how we used to be? The body knows/ what is and isn't there."

 

"I lost the easy talk/ I did not want to impress anyone anymore"

 

"solve/ hate like a controlled burn/ near a freeway"

 

"I still have a fire a fire a fire"

 

On meditation, some of these poems are darker and heavier than they appear. The request to "fill me with birds" seems to be a wish for a lightening of the soul from the burdens voiced through these conversations. 

 

Review of David B. Prather's "Shouting at an Empty House"

David B. Prather, Shouting at an Empty House (Sheila-na-Gig Editions, 2023) 96 pages, poetry, $16.00. Order here.

David B. Prather is an accomplished Appalachian poet from Parkersburg, WV. This collection started reasonably well. It has some familiar and comfortable themes and images. 

But it wasn't long before I realised my mind had largely disengaged. These poems are too familiar and comfortable. They have that expected MFA/Workshopped/I've-read-this-all-before-a-million-times feel. They also leave no room for the imagination. There is nothing left unsaid for the reader to interact with. And some stereotypical plays of manufactured empathy are clearly meant to elicit gasps of awe from the audience at a poetry reading without having any real emotional depth.

Therefore, when the occasional sparkling phrase manages to stand out from the page, it isn't enough to carry the entire collection. 

If the current fashion of MFA/Workshop-approved poetry is your thing, this is your book. It is exactly everything that has been published in the last 20 years. Prather's author's bio reflects that. Call it PopPoetry. Clearly, a lot of people do appreciate it; particularly the people who decide what gets printed. 

Personally, I'm bored with it.