Friday, August 28, 2009

In the Belly of the Beast Lexus Final Chapter Contest

Back by popular demand, here is my submission to the Lexus "In the Belly of the Beast" Final Chapter Contest that ended with a winner and four honorable mentions in January 2009. The winning final chapter appears in the February 2009 issue of Lexus magazine, so if anyone has a copy they are willing to sell to me, please contact me. Thank you everyone for your support! J.K./M.H.


Finally At Home

Feeling anxious but self assured, Julia completed her first day on the job at Google. Her new boss, Merry Roma, turned out to be dynamic not only as a boss but as a real confidant, a rare quality in female bosses. The shoes she finally bought were from an outlet store off the highway where she and Terence stopped because he also wanted lunch. The only restaurant in sight was a Sonic, taking him back to the good old days of eating at drive-ins on Saturday nights. But they finally made it to their destination, and on time, because Julia wanted to look awake for the first day of her new job. Terence had stayed at home playing with Larry. Larry, the little dog that Julia remembered first seeing in a box with other heeler pups back in New Mexico where the man offered the dogs for free. The guy looked like he was from Boulder instead of New Mexico, Julia thought to herself. Hippie. Mountain hippie. Her refuge bringing and getting her through all kinds of minor stops, each time, driving farther away from each one. The jungle wedding in Las Vegas. Bwana Jim, the paper loincloths and general craziness of it all, feeling like two five year olds going through the motion of marriage just to play house. Not the Napa Valley wedding Julia had hoped to experience, and no chance of seeing Mr. Lowdown himself there, either. Driving home, Julia entered through the front door and found Terence playing with Larry on the floor, throwing him a blue ball which he chased and retrieved for Terence. It was that color blue, the same blue of the Beast.

“Hi Sweetheart. How was the Google job?” he asked her, as she kicked off her black shoes and collapsed onto the divan. She smiled at him and rubbed her feet with her right hand.

“It went well. I even talked to my boss. Mexico. Merry said she lived in San Felipe for a year and loved it. A real tropical utopia. Guess what? We can go there, too, in three months. I can finish this one major project at Google then get some time off. And we can bring Larry with us, too. What do you think?”

Terence looked at her as he thought over what she just said to him. He had a little, enigmatic smile on his face, looking just like the character of Otto from the 1953 film Houdini. He really wanted to stay where they are now for awhile, so that he could at least get a job teaching about cannibals in Los Angeles. At UCLA, of course – where else? “What do I think?” he slowly repeated as he gently stroked Larry's head. “I think I should at least give you the good news, Julie. I received a call from Auntie M&M. The spell she cast will help find a cure for AIDS, which is why Brian gave me the package to make sure it was hand delivered to her. The Cannibal Man to the rescue, not losing sight of what he is supposed to do. But now Julia was on her feet, pattering down the hallway of their new home to the bedroom where she quickly took off her work clothes and threw on a pair of Levis and a white knit pullover. She returned to the living room and put on the television set. Terence was in the kitchen making cinnamon cappuccino for them. He yet had to mention what he did all day besides play with Larry, who really looked more like a Paco than a Larry to Julia. But he returned, handing her the porcelain cup she got last Christmas, red in color with white clouds on it. Clouds that looked like they belonged in the east coast sky, not the sky of southern California. The cappuccino was hot and not too spicy, just the way she liked it. “I remember how Peter liked the same cappuccino. In fact, he showed me how to make it. That, along with tatting. The coffee I can do but not the tatting.” Wasn't there anything else Terence was able to talk about besides cappuccino and tatting, Julia thought. I can just picture it, The Cannibal Man tatting doilies to be placed on cherry wood dressers.

“I have an idea, Terence, why don't we eat out tonight? It doesn't have to be anywhere fancy so I don't have to change clothes again.” Julia noticed Terence was wearing his jeans with a gray polo shirt. Terence wondered if Julia had a diner in mind. As if he read her mind, she responded, “A burger or sandwich will do.” Terence was hoping to treat her to a real meal complete with wine and caviar to celebrate her first day on the job. But, if all she wanted was a hamburger... his thoughts trailed back to Peter, thinking the only reason he was happy with Brian is because he did not have to put up with a female. Mom, the queen cougar of them all. A batch of Press-a-Pennies with the Lord's Prayer embossed on them. What was Terence to think? He was supposed to be happy with Julia, and while he was happy for her getting the Google job at the west coast office, his brain was in Cannibal Land, according to Julia. Terence didn't think he had the potential to become a vorarephile and he was fairly sure that Julia didn't, either. Terence did not want to admit to himself that his wife would be making more money than he, and he was the one with the PhD between them. Putting on his shoes, Terence saw Julia stand before him with her car key in her left hand, asking him if he was ready to go. Outside, standing in front of the IS F, they took off down the road, to a diner for supper and then, bed.
Tags:

August 28 Poem of the Week

Dragonfly Realm

Two red dragonflies led us down the path
deep into the woods
where their home by the pond lay.

There was a delicate giggle behind us
was it from the wood sprites?
that eventually disappeared into thin air
just like the smoke from a log cabin beyond
the forest's edge.

A much louder laugh - no, a bark
dissipated into the air
coming from the prairie dogs
cheerily celebrating the night air
as the sun went down in the west.


Copyright 2009 Julie Kovacs. Not to be reprinted without permission from the author.

Sunday, August 23, 2009

Silver Moonbeams and The Emerald Grail

Even though these appear on my main website, I will repost them here with eventual links in the sidebar. Thank you to everyone who looks at my work!

The Emerald Grail. Julie's second book of poetry. Some of the poems in this book have already appeared in other literary publications in print and electronic media. A delightful collection of poetry.




Silver Moonbeams: Dream Lover. Poems from the heart speaking to the Beloved.

Friday, August 21, 2009

The Complete Poems of Emily Dickinson

"The Complete Poems of Emily Dickinson", edited by Thomas H. Johnson, is a comprehensive book of Emily's poetry and contains every poem she wrote during her lifetime. Only a very few of her poems were published when she was alive, perhaps due to her peers and publishers not recognizing her brilliant work as being innovative during the nineteenth century. Emily remains a favorite today for many Americans. This book is something that should be a part of every poetry lover's collection. Available from Amazon for $14.95.


Wednesday, August 19, 2009

Poem of the Week Feature

Poem of the Week

I have decided to start a “Poem of the Week” feature in my blog. Every week I will post a poem I wrote that will not appear anywhere else. Enjoy this week's feature!

On a Fall Picnic in 2009

The mountaintop sang
sounding like a bass
without any vocal accompaniment.

Slowly
the
sound
decreased
a
faint
tiny
whistle
heard
from
a
train
in
the
next
town
over.

It followed me
everywhere I went,
the local post office
the library
the new artisan shop
where sterling silver
was made to be displayed
on the living room fireplace mantle.

One sterling teapot sang the same song
when it was full of hibiscus tea and shared
with the unexpected guests,
a local family of rabbits and a dragonfly,
who drank the tea after the picnic
on a Wednesday afternoon during the fall of 2009.

Monday, August 10, 2009

Sixty Wild and Sweet Poems of Hafiz

Hafiz has long been one of my favorite poets in the world of Sufi poetry. Below is one of his books worth reading if you love Sufi poetry:




A brief description:

To Persians, the fourteenth-century poems of Hafiz are not classical literature from a remote past, but cherished love, wisdom, and humor from a dear and intimate friend. Perhaps, more than any other Persian poet, it is Hafiz who most fully accesses the mystical, healing dimensions of poetry. Daniel Ladinsky has made it his life's work to create modern, inspired translations of the world's most profound spiritual poetry. Through Ladinsky's translations, Hafiz's voice comes alive across the centuries singing his message of love.Daniel Ladinsky is the translator of The Giftand Love Poems from God. For six years he lived with the family of Meher Baba in a spiritual community in western India.

This book will make a great addition to any collection of Sufi or Persian literature.

Saturday, August 8, 2009

Poems from Purple Dream

Here are some poems that appeared in Purple Dream and the dates published:

Published August 2007:

Running With Rabbits

Signaling with my extended right pinky to
the ferret waving to me he picked

up on my code signal and ran into the kitchen
to bring me a glass of grapefruit juice
and a piece of vanilla cake.

Jumping into my lap for chin scratching and
words of reward what he really wanted

to hear was if he was going to finally get a new
BMW for his birthday so he could cruise

around town and pick up the most popular bunnies.


Published December 2007:

Walls


Four walls surrounding me
four white walls with no windows and one small doorway
walls bare of any pictures or paintings
the walls start to look like prison bars
suffocating space
even though I can walk around
and enter and exit the doorway
into a room with another four walls like the first one.

A caged animal feels freer
lurking around the corner of the wall
where the doorway leads to the cell where I sleep.

Did I say cell?
I meant room, of course.
I would never be placed into a cell
with nowhere to go
nothing to do or see
when I have my best friends
with me all the time
living on the ceiling to floor shelves
Sand, Maupassant, Colette and Zola
in residence free of rent or lease
owned and loved by me
there is always more room
within these walls for new residents
next week, Dumas and Flaubert are moving in with me.





Published December 2007:

Interspecific Apposition

Peacock vibrant azure
glanced at me displaying
his tail enigmatic smile

a pickup line normally
common only this one
spoke into my heart

the bar I met him at
offered nectar created
by the butterflies

served by dragonflies
tending the intoxicating drinks
whispering among themselves

how he came here once
a week on the same time
at the same time seeking

that one perfect mate
craning his neck he faced me
investigating my appearance

and inquiring about my health
he wanted to be sure his
potential mate would be able to

provide him with the attention
needed and a successor immortal
when his tail delicately brushed

my right cheek signifying it
was time to leave with him
leaving the bar I followed him

back to his nesting ground
when he blinked his eyes at me
and finally spoke,

“Thank you for being the vessel
of my life.”



Published January 2008:

Today’s Event

The letter at the bottom of the stairs
had the right address on it
from down south where
my cousin’s best friend
went to college
to study chemistry and rhetoric.

He was the only guy I knew who
read Diderot as a hobby and
collected medieval artwork
of fabulous animals
that visited Alfred’s court.

Once we got to know each other
he extensively shared memories
of his days at Hampden Sydney
and never forgot to mention
every time how he was the center
for the basketball team
and never missed a game during
his entire academic career.

He once sang the entire catalog of
Queen songs for a contest during spring break
winning first place and the prize was
a fortune cookie from the Chinese take out
restaurant over on Fifth Street.

More often than not he would visit me
first when he came to town, even before
he went to the automotive store
to look at the new radials.



Published February 2008:

Fervent Dulcitude

Conversation entailing words unexplored
one person observing in silence

peering into a territory forbidden to
discover a monster unleashed

a heavy door quickly shut and bolted
intrusion prevented soon enough

a rare beautiful flower nurtured to its
fullest growth happy in a house

every day a celebration with
a salad and corn on the cob

filet mignons French fries with cookies and cakes
for dessert while sitting in front

of a fireplace descending into a world
secure free from stress and obstacles

to our shimmering limbs welded into a
solitary container vibrating

constantly changing shape but never
cracking open to release

this feeling of quiescence supreme.




Published March 2008:

Sealed Affection

Two swans on a crystal lake
the female of the birds leans over
to nuzzle her mate for life
necks embracing feathers
gently caressing creating sparks
of desire while the lucid breeze
among the cypress trees
dances in the sky

clouds disappear behind the
two moons shining upon
each of the birds transformed
into two spirits floating
through eternity.



Published April 2008:



Meeting Through the Glass


Billowing pillow upright in front of my face
perfect for me to smother my frustrations in
rubbing to the left
rubbing to the right
rubbing up
rubbing down
hands covering
strong sweet refuge

transformation into living
breathing warmth
permanent lingering
across space and time

unexpected always present
repeatedly solicited squeezes
unique from the giver himself.




Published May 2008:

Midnight Stroll


Awoken early in the twilight morning
by the tepid air breathe scintillating
particles upon my face
I felt my heartbeat slow after
exultation the touch that never
left the night before
that was the same feeling
potentiate since it commenced
two years ago
obliteration of tiny insignificant
particles extraneous
useless and undue
for our present arrangement
being at one
divorced from the grasp of
super curious eyes mouths and hands
that have unknowingly been shielded
by an impervious wall unseen by
everyone but us.



Published May 2008:

Bold Journey

A narrow dirt road winding around a lake
lined by tall grass leading through a forest
where the party resides among the unseen
people laughing drinking nectar from the
honeysuckle trees and garlands of wildflowers
tossed about each person’s neck bidding farewell
to each passerby who stopped to join but had
a more pressing engagement further up the road
empty spots by the sides were a combination of
bleak and lively too common for the traveler
to want to take part of.

Winding up to a small hill the path is covered
by a whipped sugar fog welcoming an appropriate
end right up to five small headstones
each one read slowly anticipation of my own name
on the last one where I am supposed
to be buried but I am not.




Published July, 2008:

Flight Into Watery Space

New shoes with heels in the clouds
747 forty fighter jets
circling in harmonious speed
straight down the runway
feet racing
trajectory parallel
sight speeding through a tunnel
ninety miles per hour
headfirst the temperature of the water
changing from warm to cold to warm
to boiling slowly emerging
cleansed whole
scent of marigolds and lilacs
sprinkled forth from a void
collecting into a pool at
the bottom of my feet.



Published July, 2008:

Two Cicadas


Two cicadas hovered
above the lilac leaves
past their season
one hopped onto
page 112 of a psychology book
while the other
gazed at a painting
by Rousseau, "The Waterfall",
thinking that
one of the grass huts
was the honeymoon home
just for them.

All poems Copyright 2007-2009 Julie Kovacs. Not to be reproduced without consent from the author.

Friday, August 7, 2009

Some fantasy poems and more.

Here are a few more you might enjoy if you are into fantasy poetry:

The Snowy Top of Kilimanjaro


Walking Down the Longest Street of My Life


Evaporating Sounds


Green Desert Garden


Inside the Lair of the Dragon


Shadows Creeping Into the Ceiling


Twilight Sprites


Having It All


The Castle On the Island


The Small Room In the Chapel

Art and Poetry

I figure I would add some links to what I think is some really fabulous poetry composed for some famous works of art. Enjoy!





To H'suan Tsung's "Kittens"




To Henri Rousseau's "The Waterfall"




To Hieronymus Bosch's "Death and the Miser"




To Marc Chagall's "The Juggler"




To Saint Longinus




To Jean Chardin's "House of Cards"

Hey Hello Hi

"Hey Hello Hi" was published in The Flask Review in March 2007:

Hey Hello Hi


No one is making eye contact

crowded together

on the sidewalk

catching the hawkers

trying to pass off fake

designer handbags

for the real thing

eyes looking upwards

at the sky

for spaceships

hidden behind

a cumulus cloud

alien eyes peeping out

of windows the size of

a candy bar

looking for

the best spot to buy

an ice cream cone

to bring home

so they can re-create

the secret to human happiness.




Copyright 2007 by Julie Kovacs. Not to be reproduced without consent from the writer.

Garden Party and The Perfect Real Estate

"Garden Party" and "The Perfect Real Estate" were published in the June 2007 issue of Aquapolis:

Garden Party


Turning off

silent

surrounded by

unpleasant sounds

free to get up and move

walk

but walk away

never towards

into that

noose left for me

wisely avoided

flying away into

the sky free

freer

upon entering

the square hole

left open for me

by Eric

who gave me

the most important song

I will ever hear

sparkling blue eyes

smiled

when I said “Thank you”

to him

never waving goodbye

always saying hello.


The Perfect Real Estate


Heat coming out of the ground

wayward feet searching for the

right planet to land on

hopscotch from star to star

which family is the right one to join


not the one where your life

is behind your back

not the one where you

are significantly different

not the one where

they walk on their hands

all day long.


One coming

three going

how many bedrooms

were locked and boarded up

continuous hallways

leading to doorways

of other dimensions

inviting a new resident.


Floating above the

emerald hills down the streets

past open air markets

natural coves where

a private tea party

can be given and

joyous laughter exchanged.


A new school on opening day

completely modernized

with up to date technology

and bright white walls

impressionist art scattered

around here and there

curriculum material inclusive

thought provoking

exploring uncharted regions

of the human mind where

the most welcoming home

has vacancy for

the lost and forlorn

peace and security

watery orbs relegated

far below into the ground

where they belong with death.


Copyright 2007 by Julie Kovacs. Not to be reproduced without consent from the writer.


Preservation

"Preservation" was published in the June 2007 issue of Good Intentions:

Preservation


Peace inside

an earthquake cannot disrupt

warm comfort

a Hawaiian island breeze

the salt from the ocean

cleanses the body

the soul cleansed by the

coconut juice

dribbling from the waterfall

into the sky.



Copyright 2007 by Julie Kovacs. Not to be reproduced without consent from the writer.

After the Night

"After the Night" was published in the July 1, 2007 issue of The Persistent Mirage:

After the Night



Laying there looking around

not seeing anything

not seeing the television

not seeing the window

not seeing what is on the other side of the window

not seeing a world past the window

not seeing anything but blood

streaming out of the mouth like a waterfall

creating a black puddle on the floor

black nothing but black

creating a flood indoors

and outdoors

drowning the roses

drowning the pansies

drowning the lilies and irises

drowning my whole life out

the blood dries

and empties through the pit

where love, trust and hope lay at the bottom

beneath the layers of humanity

lost and remain uncovered

until the cold marble of my skin

is warmed by your gentle touch

holding onto me

even though I am falling

I never fall too far

into the vat of blood

from your heart

that comforts protects

and provides the best security

that can only come with

the silence of your skin

blanketing my soul.


Copyright 2007 by Julie Kovacs. Not to be reproduced without consent from the writer.

Arm's Length

"Arm's Length" was published in the September 2007 issue of The Barfing Frog:

Arm’s Length



Holding at arm’s length

a glass of water

a book I love to read

a candy bar

a donut

a hamburger

ice cream

and French fries.


Snickering over things not healthy

or good for me

denouncing enemies

wanting to cause me hurt

and stomach pains


not bothering to wonder why

there is so much snarling and growling

inside of me

I figured that bears and lions have taken up residence

in my intestines.


Copyright 2007 by Julie Kovacs. Not to be reproduced without consent from the writer.

Pot of Gold and Trading Favors

"Pot of Gold" and "Trading Favors" appeared in the November 2007 issue of Elegant Thorn Review:


Pot of Gold


Two heads facing downward

through the clouds contemplated

making a new world no concrete

skyscrapers or highways

exist supplanted by

fields of grass rock gardens

waterfalls splashing water

into ponds with small groups

of rocks each time

water covered a rock

the rock wailed

unheard by surrounding

waters moving backward

while the rock moved forward

unobserved by anyone

except the two radiant faces

leaving a rainbow surrounding

the rock in a bow

and a gold coin on the top

unremovable by anyone except the rock.



Trading Favors


Escaping from highway gridlock on route 10 south

I hopscotch across the mountain tops

off into forests of job offers

shirts and skirts with my label on them

smiles that say comfort and ease

a coat of warmth that says thank you

for not using my coat from a four-legged

friend who used to be fed a bottle of formula

as an infant and played catch with a toy rubber ball

that belonged to my old ferret named Mandy.

Only twice now I didn’t notice when someone

wore a black cocktail dress of mine

but that was because I was too busy enjoying

chocolate truffles and herbal tea

made by the two gracious ladies.


"Pot of Gold" and "Trading Favors" are Copyrighted 2007 by Julie Kovacs. Not to be reproduced without consent from the writer.

Fake Mission from Cherry Bleeds

"Fake Mission" was published in the November 2007 issue from Cherry Bleeds:



Fake Mission



Calendar falling off the refrigerator

half a pie uncovered tiny bite marks left in the crust

Pooki watched her favorite riveting television show

the shepard returned before dusk

no new wood for the evening cut

and laid on top of the DVD player

amid the stale popcorn and nacho chips

four masked ballet dancers

stood at the front door

Bibles in hand.


Copyright 2007 Julie Kovacs. Not to be reproduced without consent from the author.

My website

My website, The Biographical Poet, has a new address. It can be viewed at:

http://www.biographicalpoet.comxa.com/intro.htm

Poems to be published here

Since a number of my previously published poems have been with sites that are now defunct, I have decided to reprint my work here. This blog will also be used for any other notifications of my work that do not appear on my website, The Biographical Poet. Enjoy!