« Posts tagged addiction

National Poetry Month Continues : with Justin Chin

Back When I Knew Who I Was 

i was content to spend my afternoons
wondering what co-dependent meant
not realizing that those lazy
humid daylight hours was better  
spent figuring out the physics
of dependency and codeine dreams

back when i knew who i was
i was much better than i ever thought i was
i could conjugate fuck like nobody’s business
       fuck me, fuck you, fuck it, fuck him, fuck her
       fuck them, fuck yourself, holy fuck, goddamnfuckit

i could shovel dead pets off the driveway
     that my aunt ran over on her way to choir practice
     and not shed a single tear
i could choke down every family fight about money,
every caning that would come for no reason after those fights,
every time we were forced to go to my rich relatives for dinner and we’d
find ourselves in the kitchen cooking and doing the dishes.

i believed i knew the meaning of alcohol
i believed i knew how to get out of every scrap
i believed i wasn’t gonna make 25
i believed in 18 molecules of carbon
21 molecules of hydrogen
3 oxygen and one fab nitrogen
all in a sweet mixture enough to make me
feel like jennifer beals in flashdance
twirling my ass
in front of the snotty audition,
praying for a stinking place in 
the dance-a-thon of actuality

back when my balls were the size of brazil
and my ego was the size of the antarctica
and my courage was the size of phlegm
i learned to trust few people
learned to want little
and to need even less
i learned to say “FUCK IT”

with such ease and venom
the most cynical rattlesnake
would have its underbelly turn emerald
in two seconds flat.

you could wake to find yourself in some sweet danger,
in some piss-flavored version of addiction
designed to make up for lost time,
lost ideals, lost lovers, lost causes, lost saviours
but -shit- these days,
all i find is myself back when i was
back in the conga line of perpetual desire
the territory of an incessant need
i crave my one habit of a good man
and i want to secede from
the grip of addiction philosophy,
from the colony of “i should’ve known better”

fuck that 12-step thing, i say,
i like to keep my options open
and i like having the option
to get absolutely fucked up
when i feel like it,
and not feel like i fucked up, dammit.

do things change that much?
can some stupid sign from the almighty
whip you right around?
maybe i should be looking for visions of jesus
in billboards of spaghetti sauce,
visions of buddha in men’s semen,
maybe i’ll be a much better person
if i knew who i was when i knew who i was
but who the fuck do i think i am?
i can’t even piss straight into the bowl,
can’t even tell my lover that i want to cook him
breakfast for the rest of my life,
can’t even cross against the light,
     (ooh, walk to the light, walk to the light….)
can’t pay my bills on time nor balance my checkbook
can’t dance, can’t mosh,
can’t get fucked up like i used to, not that i want to anyway
can’t take it like a man, whatever that means.

all i can is kiss who i was
back when i knew who i was
goodbye, one great big tongue smooch
and wish him a good journey
as he walks to the light
and falls off the edge of the earth
and into a peaceful hell.

i’ll meet up with him later.

Justin Chin, from Bite Hard
     Manic D Press, 1997

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Rubaiyat For Rocky

Repeat of the screen grab, except with linkage in working order : “Rubaiyat For Rocky” is from the book Cottonmouth Kisses. Thanks to Beauty Nursed On Darkness for the spiffy lay-out / introduction to the Tumblrsphere.

Apologies for the didactic, but simply “For Those Whom” . . . [blah blah blah]

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In Circulation: Two New Stories

&
nope, of clicky-links to URLs with disappearing ink I do not speak. Au contraire, I’m talkin’ bout publications— the tactile experience of fingertips brushing against pressed paper.  The tender crease of a spine. The stink of ink spiraling up one’s nostrillus maximus & connecting with receptors in the limbic area, stimulating electrochemical signals.

My favorite words come bearing risk of paper cuts


Vorsicht! Consider yourself hereby forewarned:
it seems I’m particularly fond of italics this fine day…

All/Same

Royal Proclamation Number One:
(a fanfare is appropriate)

The latest issue of the rad-ass, bad-ass literary journal Gertrude

is OUT—&
includes my short story “Sugar Rush”: a tribute to
C U L I N A R Y . P E R V E R Y

That’s right, baby—we’re gonna get baked, & then you get  C a k e d…

 


A H E M !
So anyway

[from the publishers]:

“To commemorate this milestone release [issue 15 of Gertrude],we put out a call for writing & visual art
that explores, celebrates or subverts queer stereotypes. ‘The Gay Issue’ represents the diversity & talent
of the LGBTQA community.”

¤ THE PARTICULARS ¤
80 perfect-bound pages of flamboyant wit, 19 verse-slingers serving noteworthy lit, &
seven shades of wickedawesome visual artistry on eight full-color inserts that
one prancy fagocytosist went way gay over, on the tip of the APA
that’d be numbers & statistics; thank.you.ever.so

featuring

Michelle Auerbach, David Brennan, Wayne Bund, Clint Catalyst, Nicole J. Georges,
Jeremy Halinen
, Daniel W.K. Lee, Kirsty Logan along with nine other lesbi-luminaries &
rump-wranglin’ Cult Icons-In-The-Makin’ that any cool-enough-to-singe-flesh-upon-contact
member of the cognoscenti c/should expect to find included among the impeccably-edited
roster of a journal esteemed as such/such as this…

Nonetheless, not unlike the dry ice to which I alluded a mere skip backwards o’er single perioddical: that’s a
scavenger hunt I’ll leave for you & your ducats to embark upon, darlin’

G E T ± S O M E

 

[though as an ápertif, an excerpt of my story]:

As the adage goes, ‘A Don’t Is A Delicious Invitation To Do.’  In the sexual practice known as “caking,” it’s particularly true.

I can’t take credit for coming up with this deviation of the old in and out, though unlike the lot of other subversive acts referred to as the stuff of urban legend—the Dirty Sanchez, Blumpkin, Cleveland Steamer, Chili Dog, et al—I’m honored to say I can vouch for its point of origin, and am a mere one degree of separation from its source.

“Caking” came about during the darkest days of that carb-counting craze when solo patties of beef were the new burger, and a demeanor bitter as Susan Atkins was the new black. It was socially acceptable to have breath that smelled like a fresh slaughter, so long as we weren’t seen consuming anything in a public setting that bore even the faintest traces of Evil Incarnate: refined sugar.

 

:: yes bitches, shit gets good up in thurr ::

However!
THIS IS NOT OVER YET

Royal Proclamation Number Two:
(not only/but also)

Baby, I’ve Got Some More Good Word For You…

From the publishing house, social network & international non-profit, Little Episodes—an organization that “promotes the arts as a therapeutic tool & platform to incite empathy and understanding”—comes the anthology Brainstorms


© Little Episodes Publishing, 2010 • ISBN 978-0-9565003-1-1 • Edited by Fawn Neün

“featuring work by Melvin BurgessTodd SwiftSadie Frost, Nina Antonia & Clint Catalyst, Brainstorms is the second volume in the ‘Expression of Depression’ series, a collection of poetry & short fiction from established & emerging talent.”

[from Little Episodes founder Lucie Barât]:

“The launch of our second anthology is a statement of intent. We aim to de-stigmatise depression and promote compassion & understanding rather than fear and embarrassment. The opportunity to create and subsequently publish art will give people a sense of well-being which could aid in their recovery.”

&
[from the printed matter]
an excerpt from my short story “Breaking Up With Tina”:

Whenever I hear recovery folks recite the slogan that their ‘worst day sober is still better than [their] best day using, ‘ I can’t help but feel my eyes rolling.  For that I have four words: They Needed Another Dealer.

Oh!  & H-e-ey Old-Schoolers, spot check how that paragraph comes to a Grinding Halt:

…And in the words of The Cure’s vocalist, Robert Smith, the further I got from the things I care about, the less I cared about how much further away I got.

MMM-HMMM,
G E T ± YOURS

order now

H E R E :: via ::  H E R E

&
peek at the back flap*
down…

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Call For Submissions: Authors, Photographers, Visual Artists… Check It!

up first, from Little Episodes


Braiinstorms

Little Episodes is currently accepting submissions for its second anthology Brainstorms, as part of the Expression of Depression series.

We are looking for examples of poetry, lyrics, short stories, excerpts of scripts, and artwork (Black and White ONLY) from both established and emerging talent who wish to support the work of Little Episodes.

Deadline for Submissions: July 31st, 2010.

Simply sign up and start submitting here

(Please Note that in order to better deal with submissions, LE has adopted a new file management system, and are no longer accepting submissions by email.)

☆★☆

Another?

The latest in the anthology series Shades of Truth by Pinchback Press!

Caught: True Crime Tales of Scamming, Scheming & Sliding By

“Whether you’ve stolen, conned, lied, or cheated: here is your chance to come clean. Tell us about the times you’ve ripped someone off, the five finger discounts you’ve taken, the little white lies you’ve told. Confession is good for the soul and we want to hear every crafty detail of yours. Tell us the tactless, the tricky and the downright terrible and we may want to publish it.

We are interested in unique personal essays that will disgust and delight readers. We want to hear from everyone, from petty criminals to hardened cons. Submissions might play with the nurture vs. nature theme, could be mastermind masterpieces, or may even be ‘anti’ crime; the collection as whole will evoke strong emotion and stand out in this popular genre.

A pseudonym may be used to protect your identity–just let us know! (Your secrets are safe with us).

GUIDELINES

All essays should be nonfiction narratives, written in the first-person. Focus on one or a few selected events; do not send rants or political speeches. Stories should be titled. Essays should be between 1000 – 5000 words, double-spaced, paginated and word-processed. No funky fonts, please.

Please include a brief bio (1-3 sentences) at the end of your submission.

DEADLINE

August 1, 2010

Please send your submissions to: blue@pinchbackpress.com

Writers chosen for the book will be contacted by September 2010. Their selected stories will be published in an anthology to be released by winter 2011. Each contributor receives two free copies of the finished book.”

☆★☆

& next?

One that sent me into such a LOLercaust, I spewed Diet Coke all over myself:

90 Kinds Of Bitches

“There are 90 kinds of bitches.
Found on the floor of a 3rd Grade Washington D.C. classroom, ‘Types of Bitches’ is this season’s must-read Internet meme.  Alternatively offensive and hilarious, the school kids list of 90 different kinds of bitches (example:  “Talking behind your back bitches”, “White bitches that think black people poor”, “Geekin bitches”) begs for reinterpretation. If you’d like to learn more about the original list, visit And I Am Not Lying

THE PROJECT
Launching in late May, KINDS OF BITCHES is an art-blog project. Each post will feature one of the 90 types of bitches– with a photo and a 500-700 word written piece about that kind of bitch.  The goal of the site is to subvert the sexism/ gender identity of the list, while also celebrating feminity. If all goes well, we hope to make this into a book.

We’re looking for talented writers and photographers to submit to this unique project. Please pass this along and repost.

WRITER’S GUIDELINES
- Select a type of bitch from the list below.
- Write 500-700 words about the type. It can be a story, an essay, a personal memory, even a poem. Use your bitch as a starting point. Make us laugh, make us cry, make us think.
- Email your submission in the body of an email along with your name to listmaker@kindsofbitches.com
- If selected, we’ll contact you with more info.

PHOTOGRAPHER’S GUIDELINES
- Select a type of bitch from the list below.
- Make an original image inspired by your bitch.  You can use all the tricks of the trade to make your image, but no paintings or illustrations please.
- You must use your own image and/or have the copyright to whatever material you use (and be able to prove it.)
- Email your photo (no more than 5MB) as a PNG or JPG in an email along with your name to listmaker@kindsofbitches.com
- If selected, we’ll contact you with more info. Be ready to provide a hi-res version as well.”

FINAL DEADLINE IS MAY 15th!

☆★☆

…as for the types of bitches?

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New Short Story/Anthology Exclusive Out Now!

In the premiere release from Little Episodes, an international collaborative art project:

(Click Image Above To Order)

:: information about ::

“Depression, addiction and mental illness are common problems in the modern world, with one in four people likely to experience a mental health problem every year. Established in 2009, Little Episodes is a not-for-profit organization consisting of professional writers, artists, musicians and actors with two prongs to its mission statement. The first, to destigmatize depression, addiction and mental illness, whilst raising awareness and providing empathy. The second is to provide a platform for talented, emerging and established writers/artists to find community and recognition. We combine the two by giving our participating writers and artists the first statement as their theme.”

Founded in the U.K., Little Episodes also curates ‘Late Night Episodes,’ a recurring event featuring spoken word, performance, music and visual art.  Late Night Episodes is held at the Novas Contemporary Urban Centre (London) on the last Saturday of every month.

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SPUN

I am powder
pressed tight and zip
locked in micro baggies
I am promises for
perfection and for
ever lined up blown
away or torn
like cotton
bandages
I am cut with
all the wrong
words and
fervent manic stirrings
wave the red flag
put up your caution
signs I
am dangerous
with my lab con-
structed wings and
the way I come
unhinged like a
screen door

[ From Cottonmouth Kisses ]