Free counters! georgia says you're never coming back

Ocean big as her thighs. Ocean big as her name.

Winter Tangerine Review

Hi guys! My name is Yasmin as most of you know, and I’m starting a literary journal! It’s called Winter Tangerine Review (You should all follow us on Tumblr, by the way!) and I am editor-in-chief. My staff and I are working on a literary magazine/journal dedicated to the very best art, poetry and prose. We like the inventive, the original, the experimental. We don’t care who you are, where you’re from or how you got to us; we want your artistry, we want your emotions, we want you to make us feel. We don’t care what you write, or what type of art you create, as long as it’s raw. We only publish the very best, and we need our staff to have those kinds of expectations as well.

We plan to publish six times a year, three times in print, and three times online. We’re going to need Poetry Editors and Prose Editors and, especially, Art Editors, as well as a group of dedicated readers. The editors are responsible for picking out the pieces that are published in each magazine. We need self-motivated writers/artists with an eye for talent, and hopefully, some writing/artistic experience of their own. The readers are expected to look over submissions, offer opinions and discuss the work, then send the very best to the editors. We publish every other month so while we’re going to need a dedicated staff, the workload should be stretched throughout the months. Each term as reader will be for a minimum two months (or one issue), and can last as long as you’re willing to work for. The terms for editors are a minimum six months (or three issues) but we want our editors to be as permanent as possible.

To be considered for a position, please send a short bio with your name, age, the state/country that you reside in, work experience with literary magazines (it’s totally okay if you don’t have any!), your interest in writing/art, what position you’re applying for, and why you think you’d be a good fit for the position you’d like. If possible, send a resume, writing/art portfolio and letter of recommendation. The deadline for applications is March 27th. Late applications will not be considered for the first round of editors/readers.  You can forward your application to I’ll get back to everyone within a week of your email! Thanks again! I’m looking forward to hearing from you!

who are your favorite living writers, tumblr or otherwise?

The Unheard of Rowdy Reckless Poet-Slingers on Tumblr


The truth of a poet exists not in the level of notoriety, not in the level of fame or controversy, but rather in the truth of the verses.  How much punch does this line give you? That’s the true, and only, criterion of poetry that matters.


Within the mass indexes of Tumblr dwells a multitude of adherents attempting a connection to groovy souls within the great electronic wave that is social media. Of those adherents only a handful show promise as actual poets, and this is a normal thing.  We shouldn’t find offense from this. Many are called. Few learn how to write.


To find these poets you have to either know them already or stumble upon them through Tumblr’s Explore feature. This second option can be a daunting task for there are waves upon waves of well-meaning but ultimately ineffective lines thrown against the wall. This is not to disparage the attempts, for it is in failure that an artist develops great ability. However for the audience these failures can sour the name of poetry all together and leave many, typically men, with the impression that poetry is the domain of fourteen year old girls raised on a steady diet of Gaga.


To correct this impression, the Howitzer needs must showcase three out-of-sight busted-up-right poets putting out verse on the tumblr wall, daring an anonymous backlash from seething, reeking  bumdabummers who have nothing better to do than receive art without attention or generosity.


We have three. We go to the three.



Poet the First


The Concrete Lily of aka georgia says you’re never coming back




i bleed secrets


(sometimes when i am alone

i mourn the things i could have should have done)


by the 7 train local, going to times sq-42st,

there is a boy with no legs

who plays the drums and nods his head

to the music he creates.


(new york makes me see things

i never could before)


Wildflowerveins is the type of poet who you can groove with best when you’re in one of those side moods, those noncommittal moods, those moods where time has stretched out a bit and the world loops by without self-analysis. The immediate confession of the poet contrasts wonderfully with the description of the train and the boy. That we read he has no legs somehow reads back into the first initial statement of secrets. A secret bled is like a man without legs and this is an excellent sidelined metaphor that reverberates backwards once we reach the stable conclusion. A truly delicate, intimate poem that you won’t often find in self-deluded poetry magazines.  



Poet the Second


The Drifting Smoke of aka rigged




ear to acoustic wood minus the spiced,

(not the kind that catches me in test harnesses fashioned to make me

swoon-swallowed listless)

i stir in blears with a vinyl gut virtuoso,

counting strums-drums-hums iterative in beat beats where

every half is further halved,

so my change is split into quarters,

and my addressable fleet of hummingbird straddles in every rowdy eye

is casted into eighths of a second,



Redchundri brings this quiet directness, this almost picture perfect tone to each line that somehow reflects back into yourself somewhere between a chorus and an echo. The poet likes to throw up some roadblocks to immediate understanding. First line she throws out a “the” before spiced, and you ask yourself, “why the word the? Why spiced? Why not spice without the, without a past tense?” And these questions are valid only in order to help you plunge into it, rather than to reject it. That the poet doesn’t write the way you want the poet to write is never a valid critique. But to ask why it was written this way, to figure it out, allows the depths of the poem to build within your interior. We have other great lines “swoon-swallowed listless” “vinyl gut virtuoso”. It’s something of a controlled recklessness, a seeming mad mash of words that ought to bring confusion but rather build this world up into an incense experience. We have here a sharp artistic vision honestly and beautifully rendered.



Poet the Third


The Hook and Backhand of aka like pulling teeth




God moves his tongue;


not quite speech, but




God is a child and we are extensions

fingers, toes

curling growing lengthening

limbs of a child boy man who


whistles with great gusts of breath

that puff out from rounded, red cheeks and

swirl into galaxies

into things we call

fate, chance


Rivermouth brings this magnetic push to everything written. There is an immediacy to the lines, a constancy and a present-tense capture that is balanced beautifully against the threat of redundancy. The poetic impulse of Rivermouth is like a hurricane set loose from its own oceanic restrictions. The lines here, and regardless of your religious vibe or lack thereof, show an artistry of vast expanse flipping quick to the small and local. A lot of ground covered but covered well, secondhand in a way. The poem taken as a whole, taken as it is, produces this unexpected calm, yet not a calm of usual type, as in God reigns and all is well, but rather a calm harkening back to an ancient myth. Somehow there are shade trees there and the dust on the ground is inviting.


These three poets are worth the read, regardless of whether or not you dig every single line they’ve written. The majority of famous poets are often famous for one or two poems, one or two from hundreds and thousands. The big three of poetry, Homer, Virgil, and Dante are each famous for one single poem lasting thousands of lines. Not every line of these three titans is wonderful, not every line is great, but in summation their works have such power and verve as to last the cold reaches of time and transition.


The Howitzer is certain that tumblr is hiding further poets. They will be found and showcased. In the meantime, enjoy these three and their burgeoning gifts.


Best Regards,


King Stimie 

Yasmin’s note: Please be aware that I’m really not reblogging this because I’m on it.  I’m reblogging it because the other two writers featured have some of the best poetry I’ve ever read. Go check them and howitzerliterarysociety out. 

i pray to you allah god buddha jesus zeus spaghetti monster in the sky

Every year up to 150 of the nation’s most talented 15-18 year old artists, spanning nine disciplines, converge in Miami for YoungArts Week. Selected from up to 7,000 applicants from across the country, this week long gathering provides gifted young artists with life-changing artistic enrichment experiences. Master classes with internationally renowned artists, workshops, interdisciplinary activities, performances and exhibitions, YoungArts Week has it all. It is designed to support students at a critical juncture in their lives, and encourage their decision to pursue a career in the arts.”

If I don’t win this, I will cut a bitch then sob. Nicki Minaj won. I can do as well as Nicki Minaj no?

chainmail collab project


since the last mass collab project ended pretty badly, i decided to go with my original idea and do a chainmail collab.  like this post if you want to participate.

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