LONG STORY SHORT
a Magazine for Writers
OUR POEM OF THE MONTH!

SHELF LIFE
By Carolyn Howard-Johnson



The Doughboy is ill.
Was it general malaise,
fermented overindulgence,
the expired shelf-life
of senile cells
that caused him to expand
within his cylinder,
burst through the spiraled sides
of his tube, unseen, alone
in the cool, dark shelf
behind my enameled door?
My own white flesh
plays peek-a-boo around
the edges of last summer’s swimsuit,
not at all “poppin’ fresh”
but expiring instead in yeasty
                                           exhaustion.

SOLITAIRE
by Magdalena Ball


Did you wake up one morning
beer cans, guitar, cowboy boots
your tarnished armour scattered
about the ground
throw off the covers
and look for him?

The boy you left
bundled up with your domestic mistakes
your false dreams of normalcy
turned prison.

Did you see his eyes in the mirror
and feel the abandonment
yourself
a child again
alone, facing the second half
of your life without
noise
without distraction
the umbilical cord cut forever.

Would he know you in the street?
In his next life? In the hereafter?
Or are you truly playing
solitaire.



THE CHAIN
by Magdalena Ball


At first there was nothing.
You spoke to me of
faith, tradition,
and I saw a rusted chain
linking the ankles of
a billion dead men.
You spoke to me of
history, obligation
and I saw showers of
poison gas
naked women stripped of their
dignity
naked men stripped of their
fight.
I wanted distance.
Separation.
I was young, and didn't know
that the clinking sound
I heard when I rolled over
at night
or walked down the street
carefree in my youth
Innocent of God, and the
demons which filled my family's past
was the clicking of a rusted chain
around my own ankles
the burning smell when I showered,
my own flesh.




About the author: Magdalena Ball is
Editor of The Compulsive Reader at
http://www.compulsivereader.com/html,
and is the author of The Art of
Assessment: How to Review Anything. Her fiction, poetry, reviews, interviews, and essays have appeared in a wide range of on-line and print publications.



PRECURSOR
Patricia Wellingham-Jones
for Betsy


Two little girls sit
on concrete porch steps
restless
under the stern gaze
of their elders, almost 10.
Beckoned into the game
scratched with chalk on the sidewalk
they are shown walls
and doors and windows,
told to take care.
After five minutes of tip-toeing,
arms flung wide for balance,
the littlest one sticks out her lower lip.
Glares at the big girls, says
This isn’t fun anymore.
She stomps right through the walls
into her own game, her own rules,
the way she plays
for the rest of her life.

First published in Manzanita Quarterly, 2001


TROUBLE COMING
Patricia Wellingham-Jones


The small girl crouched on the back steps
of her grandmother’s white framed house,
peppermint-striped skirt kited
over knees knobby and scratched.
She knew she was special
there on that old wraparound porch—
her daddy and grandma
always said so.
The cleaning lady laid it on the line:
When that girl child of yours
comes into her body,
you’re going to need a shotgun
to keep the boys away.
The father laughed and ruffled
the child’s bowl cut hair, forgot
the comment for a decade.
When the kitchen filled with the tramp
of boy-smelling shoes, dirty jokes,
cracked voices raised in challenge,
the father suddenly remembered.
As for the young girl,
she’s sticking to silence –
never show, don’t tell –
pasted over her red and white smile.


First published in Nanny Fanny, 2002

Contact Patricia
Published in Nanny Fanny, Winter 2001
Patricia has most recently been published in Tiger's Eye, Möbius, The Horsethief's Journal, San Gabriel Valley Poetry Quarterly and Niederngasse.  She won the Reuben Rose
International Poetry Prize (Israel).

http://www.snowcrest.net/pamelaj/wellinghamjones/home.htm





GOURMET GERTRUDE
Linda Barnett-Johnson


Gourmet Gertrude,
Gorges on Gizzards and Garlic.
Gluttonous Goddess,
Gassy Girl.


Linda Barnett-Johnson
Read Linda's bio in
About the Editors



GRACE’S JOURNEY
by Grace Sotelo



Being a person of color is not a reason for you to try to keep me down

Being a woman is not a reason for you to think, I can be anything I wish to be

Being a person who is not petite or thin is not a reason for you to think I'm not attractive

Being a person who is not rich with monetary things does not mean that I am not rich at heart

Being a person with only a high school education does not mean that I am not educated

Accept me for who I am, instead of judging me for what you think I am not

 

Grace Sotelo is a Mexican-American lady who has the advantage of two cultures..
She is in her late thirties and had one of her poems published in an anthology.
Grace has never taken writing classes of any type but loves to write about issues
and situations that people face everyday. GracesJourney@aol.com

MY HOUSE
By Tina Portelli


My house flows
Of generosity
Of colored coffees and love-filled bread
Soft pecan tastes
Memories of ice cream
Desserts in the night

My house flames with fire
Heat of scented candles
Giving in to my desire
Every flavor colored light
Gifts my eyes with pure delight

My house flows
With energy and life
Walls darkened red
Floors dark and rustic
Wild flowers bloom
Peace in every room

My house flows
With love


Tina says, "I am 54, single and live in Brooklyn, NY.  I work in Manhattan as a full  time office manager.  My writing is a newly found passionate hobby. I get my ideas from personal experiences and the adventures of family and friends.  I have never taken a writing class, but three years ago I started practicing meditation.   I attribute my newfound passion of writing to that practice, meditation gave me a clear and open mind.  No better friend than the soul of my pen."

Contact Tina.


WOMAN’S DAY
By Carolyn Howard-Johnson



To touch the caterpillar-curve of a baby’s
           thigh, to breathe in guileless oxygen, breathe

out giddy, unshackled glee, see a sunrise
           of pink-spun sugar, silken sunsets the color

of cantaloupes, mouth a mango’s flesh, taste
           a plum’s orgasmic juice, bask in an approving

smile but mostly, my dear, my ingénue,
           to suck in sharp, quick spikes of choice,

                                                ether’s Own Freedom.




Carolyn Howard-Johnson is the author of This is
the Place. It has won eight awards. Her book of
creative nonfiction, Harkening, has won three.
She is a columnist for the Pasadena Star News
and Home Decor Buyer and her poetry and
short stories appear frequently in magazines
and review journals.
Contact Carolyn.

TOSSED ASIDE
by Melisa A. Miller



It is chilly in here,
the room we both occupy...
Your 22-year-old dignity tossed aside,
just in time,
to answer that beep,
to serve amusement
for vacant pals,
to be left stumbling
the miles between the bar and home at 5 am,
to plot strategies
that will take you
from stretching copper pennies to counting silver dollars.
You, the silent soldier
warring a battle no one wins,
I, the silent sibling
pretending there is no such battle.


Melisa A. Miller, 23yr, is a freelance reporter
and published poet hailing from Tiffin, Ohio.
Contact Melisa.