I am proud and excited to let everyone know my latest collection of poems and essays is finally available!  Thanks to all who asked me over the last year how things have been going since I released Sanity is Boring in the beginning of 2009! 

If I had to compare the two, (although they're very different animals,) I'd have to say I like Ectopic even better.  For one thing, it's fresher.  More alive, I guess.  And, with Sanity, you really needed to have heard the music to get the full effect of the lyrics.  With Ectopic, it's much more accessible to those lucky enough NOT to live in my head.

So, if this sort of thing interests you, or if you know someone who likes to hear average people complain about the mediocrity they create and embellish, in verse form, then by all means, grab yourself a copy!

https://www.createspace.com/3436767

I've been remiss of late for several reasons, including the busiest season in my "day job", a lot of work with my songwriting partner David Dean on some great new songs, and all sorts less important excuses I could think up if I really try hard enough.  But, despite all of that, I have managed to pull together a significant sampling of new poems and essays, all of which have been written since my first collection, Sanity is Boring, was published. 
I am working on putting the new collection together in a book to be entitled, The Ectopic Epiphany, also to be published through CreateSpace.com, and available for sale on Amazon as well.  There's still a bit more editing to do, and I may try to squeeze a few more poems in before it's complete, but now that I've put out here for the world to see, I kind of have to finish it don't I???
As a sideline question, does anyone think there would be any interest in seeing/hearing my poems read via YouTube?  It just popped into my mind at this moment, but I know a lot of people are able to better appreciate a poem when they hear it as opposed to reading it.  Your thoughts would be appreciated!

I'm not sure what they intended to send, because no matter what I do to pull it up, the whole message is a picture, and it won't display on my system, but the name of the picture is "rejection_lantern.jpg" so I'm taking a wild guess here and assuming I'm not getting any of my five submitted poems published in their journal. 

On a lighter note, the latest Dean-Lambert song demo is completed.  It's a rockin' country tune called "Tornado Heart" and I think it's worth a listen.  Go over to "Songwriting" and take a listen!

For anyone interested in taking a look at the final product, my first official poetry publication is now available!  I'm posting the link here and on my Poetry Page.  I'm on page 13!

It turned out that the overall quality of the poetry in the magazine was really pretty high with few exceptions, so I'm really proud to be a part of it.  Be sure to let me know what you think!

Just a little something that appeared the other night after checking out some crazy videos on YouTube!

Predator's Prey

The sleek torpedo shoots through warm coastal
currents, homing in on tiny droplets of blood from
creatures who never experienced nightmares or
knew what it was to be scared of the water.

Rippling muscles beneath fiery fur, striped like
overhead shadows of jungle limbs in sunlight, crouch
nearly motionless like a compressed spring, waiting
to pounce on the slower, the weaker, the fearless.

Circling on thermals a mile in the air, with
a wing-span of eight or nine feet, and a
frighteningly accurate ocular sense, the
missle swoops down from a clear azure sky.

And the predator's prey leaves the world in an
instant of more or less painful surprise,
perhaps wondering, in instinct-driven paranoia
if they should have foreseen this embarrassment.

I received the following e-mail from Godfrey Logan, the editor of A Brilliant Record magazine:

• Thank you for your submission. It has been posted and can be seen at magazine-abrilliantrecord.blogspot.com. It will be included in this months issue available at the end of the month.
•  
• Godfrey Logan
• Record Magazine

The poems are already up on the online version at his blog, but it's a little weird because he just copied and pasted my submission letter followed by the poems.  So I'll link to the finished product at the end of the month when he sends me my copy.

Here are the three poems he selected:

The Wake

Forced conversations in a hushed tone
Awkward laughter, guilty cheer.

“She looks so natural.”
No, she doesn't. Did you know her?
Doesn't this bother anyone else?
We stand around this artificially
darkened room, trying not to
acknowledge why we're here.
“She went peacefully.”
Is that supposed to make me feel
better about her not being here?
She should have fought, tooth and nail!
Why is she there, lying still,
while I'm here, comforting strangers?
“It was her time.”
How dare you? How dare you say
that she deserved this? Or that God
deserves her more than I do!
What kind of God do you believe in?
Not the God I know. Not the God she knew.

Forced conversations in a hushed tone
Whispered questions, shamed ignorance.

Us

I want to believe.
I need to imagine
I can do what you need,
I can be what you want.
Tell me what's right.
Tell me who to be.
We work on these revolving doors
until we're dizzy and sick.
I know there is more.
I know you have wished-
I lost that once.
I never want to lose it again.
Forget about the past.
Forget what I have forgotten.
We ramble in and out of confusion
until we've forgotten everything
except us.

Memory

Mind thinning--
Gray and fuzzy flights of recall
dapple harder-won concrete memories
creating shadows from no substance
smoothing sharp contours and carving
tiny holes in what I thought
was my life.

Here is a second rejection letter from the fine online literary journal Chantarelle's Notebook.  I'd recommend checking them out if you are interested in short poetry, more on the edgy side of the spectrum.

Dear Justin,
 
Thank you for your recent submission.
 
Unfortunately, we are unable to use your work in the upcoming issue of Chantarelle's Notebook. Understand that this is a determination as to which of the many submissions received would be best suited for Chantarelle's Notebook.
 
Thanks again. We hope to have the opportunity to consider more from you in the future.

Sincerely,
Kendall & Christinia Bell
Editors, Chantarelle's Notebook
www.chantarellesnotebook.com

In a massive social media marketing experiment, I have decided to give away, ABSOLUTELY FREE my first published chapbook, Sanity if Boring.  This 60-page collection of free verse and lyrical poems is available in print form from CreateSpace.com and Amazon.com for $8.00.  But, for the next week, I am giving away the e-book version for FREE to anyone who becomes a Fan of my Facebook page, follows me on Twitter, becomes my friend on GoodReads.com or connects with me on LinkedIn!  So if you're interested in grabbing a copy of my first published chapbook absolutely FREE, swing over to my social networking hub and hook up however you'd like!

Autumn
Leaves rain down, coating walk and grass
wet crunch rustle sweeping summer past
keeping winter at bay only for the moment,
swaying in lazy circles and arcs, to repast.

Scent of snow whispers softly "hello"
heavy with the woods and loam, fresh below
wet with a tricky crackly deep inside
and a corrosive sense that pricks the nose.

Wood quartered and piled upon quartered wood
stacked high to rafters in a shed that's stood
sentinel to more changing seasons past
than we have memory of or even wish we could.

Quiet pain and groaning arthritic hand,
snapping bone and dimming eyes that understand,
ears that once heard the wet crunch rustle
heading into winter reach back to spring's plan.

excerpted from Diary in Verse, unpublished
 

I published one of my poems via Twitter this afternoon and got some nice comments back from some of my followers.  I decided to post it here too, so anyone else who feels like commenting can do so.  Feel free to give me your best shot in critique, I'm always looking to improve!

The August Air Cooling Too Early

Lazy breezes shift the leaves
Their softer bottom side reflecting
Sunlight dripping through thinning trees
Autumn falls upon us too early every year

We step outside with shorts and t-shirts,
Skin goose-fleshed by cool exhalations
Of October in August
The midday siesta abandoned

I came home today
The product of a canceled appointment
A postponed punishment
Seeking the solace of a patio fire

But as the flames died,
Their faltering embers smoking a dense fog,
The August air punished me again
For insolence and solitude revisited.