Short Publishers Poems

you parlay a dream
you mean your own,of course so
we starve.we write.so................

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Freedom 

I can go outside. 
I can go inside. 
I can climb a mountain, 
or swim in the sea. 

Freedom. 

I am free....

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‘ Mail Lottery … ’      50th  Senryu


         Generic-Goody  
Publishers Clearinghouse Spree
 ...  ‘ Show Me The Money ’ !



(Yeah, I Know That's Jerry McGuire Movie's Line)...

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He publishes poems
by writers who find
no publishers elsewhere.

They suffer rejection
and he gives them hope.
Some improve

and some do not.
But hope isn't always
the best thing.

It’s not hopeful to tell 
a child with clubfoot
to take ballet.


Donal Mahoney...

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Once, poems on paper.
Books to be marked.
Dog-eared pages,
left open, carried.
Cared for, like a loved one.
All of life in ink.

Poets still write.
No restrictions,
pleading, pandering
or publishers.

Unlimited digital
parking spaces.
Will they be found
in the future?...

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Thought for sure they would
love my most-recent haiku;
it was rejected.  


[One of the hard parts of writing is the frequent rejections, both from publishers, and sometimes the (possibly imagined) polite but unenthusiastic praise at open mikes. I'm sure everyone experiences it.]...

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The Super-hero swings his sword
Down clang, clang, clang,
It rang, rang, rang,
Went bang, bang, bang
On his foeman’s thick, thick skull.

The publishers commission more
Such tales, tales, tales,
(More sales, sales, sales!)
And males, males, males
Will imagine they’re Conan or Kull....

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The Super-hero swings his sword
Down clang, clang, clang,
It rang, rang, rang,
Went bang, bang, bang
On his foeman’s thick, thick skull.

The publishers commission more
Such tales, tales, tales,
(More sales, sales, sales!)
And males, males, males
Will imagine they’re Conan or Kull....

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The Super-hero swings his sword
Down clang, clang, clang,
It rang, rang, rang,
Went bang, bang, bang
On his foeman’s thick, thick skull.

The publishers commission more
Such tales, tales, tales,
(More sales, sales, sales!)
And males, males, males
Will imagine they’re Conan or Kull....

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POET PETER PAL

                 Poet Peter Pal piled pretty poems.
                 Put in manuscript assembling the gems.
                           Publishers were busy.
                          ‘Self-Publishing’: Easy.
               Wrote reviews using pseudo names.


   01/05/19...

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I'm thinking about calling it Poetry's anthology of the 21st century's Poet Wicked Romancer.
I'm going for a big publisher an pay through sales of a percentage of sales I've had some offers but just not the publishers I desire.  Remember marketing an critic's reviews are big part of making money an a name for yourself....

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Different publishers
Many offers
Praising their dollar seeking way
Hungry to publish my poems
Establish my talent,
Gift and voice.
Take advantage I must!
Many poets order extra copies,
Their proffer
Special pricing…
…BUT HURRY
Time is limited
Mail us your order
Send your check
And forever remain 
The fool....

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Hello

Goodbye

IRS you say

Goodbye

We are suspending your Social Security

Goodbye

I WON PUBLISHERS CLEARING HOUSE

I know this is a lie, Goodbye

Your calling me on a recorded line then record this

GOODBYE



This is Linda from your doctor’s office reminding you.............
Goodbye, Crap this one was real...

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I may never win a contest
Or be published in a book
and somethings I have written
May not be worth a look

No, I don't write for glory
Money or great fame
I write because inside of me
Burns an undenying flame

Maybe a hundred years from now
With just a little luck
Some publishers may find my work
And make themselves a buck...

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let me think about this
I told myself
it was only time running out
what is the laughter for?

I was remembering the pussyfooting
publishers
who dismissed this over lunch
maybe it was the thickness
of the fondue

I don't know
it's all just a blur to me now
the whole day spent dreaming 
of somebody
I never met

flying through the air
in a dream
we left the crowd...

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I once could run fast as required
But really had nowhere to go
Able to work where I desired
But then I had nothing to show

Opportunities waved aside
As a pesky fly on my face
Complacent, I was self denied
Of all I was offered to taste

Excited, my break awaited
Is here and worth focusing on
Publishers clearing house stated
That I may have already won!...

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I have decided to build an imaginary mansion,
To live in when I get old,
I have been writing for years now with no reward,
So this got me to thinking,
What if i had been succesful,
I've had 22 books published,
By various publishers but no one buys them,
Si I have decided that I am a rich man although I still borrow money from my Dad for 
tobacco,
And have built an imaginary mansion,
Using my words....

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My poem was about innocent hearts
    not purloined, perfumed farts
  'Twas about forever lingering kisses
     not everlasting, beer-induced pisses

  Verses extoling glaciers' sheer grandeur
    no excretions of gooses or ganders
  Lines conjuring up treasured memories
    nothing about S&M or pederasty

  'Course, publishers rejected it out of hand
    ~ nothing to stimulate readers' trash glands...

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Anabel Hernández García is a Mexican journalist and author, known for her investigative journalism of Mexican drug trafficking and into the alleged collusion between US government officials and drug lords.She has also written about slave labor, sexual exploitation,and abuse of government power.She won the Golden Pen of Freedom Award 2012,which is presented annually by the World Association of Newspapers and News Publishers....

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Well, today has been very jolly,
I have written some poems, golly!
Pity they don't all earn me some lolly
No worries I've got a big trolly
it should have been a big lorry
The times I've had to say sorry
Publishers, it is their fault  their folly
Some as prickly as freshLY cut holly!
Now I know you think I'm a wally
But HEY, I have just sold me trolly
And I' m off on a  lifetime holli
Oh, if only, to my wife, I'm so sorry!
Shuuuush! I'm out here me only...

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I’m irked by journal publishers who claim,
“We love ALL types of poetry. Please send
your best—free verse or formal. We accept
up to five poems. First, we recommend
you read at least two issues.” So I do—
from front to back and find no rhymes at all,
no meter! Someday I’ll respond to them,
“You DON’T print formal verse, and you have gall!”


October 25, 2018, entered in Caren Krutsinger's contest


March 19, 2019, entered in Brian Strand's Week 3 March 2019 Contest...

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