Author: The Editors

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Spring Tumbles Anew from Slush – Keith Moul

Spring has officially sprung (as of the 19th, really) and this poem of Keith’s is the perfect piece to conjure the spirit of the season. Enjoy.

Spring Tumbles Anew from Slush

Each flake busted in like a little mountain,

encasing in cold, longing vegetable corpses

all ready to join the living in spring warmth

per custom cited in every local garden book.

So hurriedly seized, as hurriedly deliquesced

on orthodox cue as air bubbles up from below.

We feel tingles, but hear both pops and smacks

of joy, the smell of mud striving with the melt:

tendrils uncurl, sliding up to slippery twirl

rose hips aged orange 

red and yellow dogwoods bud

purple blackberry vines

clamp bronzed cedars 

opalescent horseflies neigh

Ever-curious, hatched right to hungry, eager

for buoyancy permitting them radical choices,

astute robins enter as if by stage direction

cunningly unwritten, breathtakingly in tune

with planetary law, with music of the spheres.

Cabin fever primes my detonator,

floods the vacuum universe with word bursts,

splotched, fused and spattered with galaxy light,

hoops shade as if of crinoline

tufts gurgle with new aromas

caterpillars undulate

deer pad ancient paths

saplings rise into forest space

every root electric in reverence,

passion holds trembling beneath every leaf.

—

Keith Moul has written poems and taken photos for more than 50 years, his work appearing in magazines widely.  His chapbook, The Journal, and a full-length volume, New and Selected Poems: Bones Molder, Words Hold were recently accepted by Duck Lake Books. These are his ninth and tenth chap or book published.

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And Dreams of Seas – Stephen Mead

Another poem of Stephen’s that we took interest in, “And Dreams of Seas” felt real, raw, and visceral to us. We enjoyed it, as well as “Sighs,” and we hope you will too.

And Dreams of Seas

If the food stayed down

(& it did)

If the hands found each other

& not blindly

or just through letters,

that piercing paper touch

(& they did)

If we were soluble, the flesh

transparent, & could merge

in a flow where nobody 

drowned

or at least not alone

(& we might have)

If your voice, face

was suddenly inside mine

& sky-lit eyes looked out brighter,

an ocean in the all-over-dark

(& we almost)

If I were not sad, could feel

joy even in your leaving

without angry idols, fearful

obsession of the fact

fact of your sickness

(& I am)

or death

(am not)

then the last vast wave

would not want oblivion

(& we cannot)

only a sort of truth,

nearly clear

(& we don’t)

in this surge,

the real dream

which does not stop

—

Stephen Mead is an Outsider multi-media artist and writer. Since the 1990s he’s been grateful to many editors for publishing his work in print zines and eventually online. He is also grateful to have managed to keep various day jobs for the Health Insurance. Currently he is resident artist/curator for The Chroma Museum, artistic renderings of LGBTQI historical figures, organizations, and allies predominantly before Stonewall: https://thestephenmeadchromamuseum.weebly.com/.

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And the Second Theme is…

It’s about that time: our second issue, While the World Burns, is officially in the works!

The goal of this theme is to ruminate on the worldly tension we are all undeniably feeling at this time — arguably, now more than ever, as near-worldwide quarantine takes place in the hopes of COVID-19 prevention.

You can take this as literally or as figuratively as you like, as is the case with all of our themes. But given the extra time you likely have inside, we would love to hear from you, whether that be through writing or art.

Get writing. Get creating. You’ve got time.

We hope to hear from you soon.

Sincerely,

The Hedge Apple Team

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Sighs – Stephen Mead

Sighs

To covet, sighs,

a covenant between spirit & flesh.

Eyes come

eternally mortal to that rhythm:

Pelvic, pubic, the moan emissions

between your eyes above mine

as sex & sensuality meld us to one fluid,

bone marrow, the extremis…

You know that knowledge is terrible,

death’s phantom a phoenix to the fusion

of our shadows & the winged brilliance

where, life to life, pulses feed sickness or DNA.

Love, feed the thirst, the hunger desire

decides on. Choose passion as breath & we

wave in the ebb, the flow of that domain…

Here, first eddy, flushed then waxen

tallow, flame to wick.

Come, come again, I’ll hide no sighs,

being charcoal to paper 

rubbing an imprint.

—

Stephen Mead is an Outsider multi-media artist and writer. Since the 1990s he’s been grateful to many editors for publishing his work in print zines and eventually online. He is also grateful to have managed to keep various day jobs for the Health Insurance. Currently he is resident artist/curator for The Chroma Museum, artistic renderings of LGBTQI historical figures, organizations, and allies predominantly before Stonewall: https://thestephenmeadchromamuseum.weebly.com/.

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It is Almost Dawn – Dmitry Blizniuk

We find pieces that have been translated from a different language to be especially demonstrative of the wide reach that writing of all kinds can have, and Dmitry’s poem (translated to English by Sergey Gerasimov) is no exception. Enjoy.

It is Almost Dawn

The pillow is soaked in tears:

your face has wetted itself like a puppy,

and the eyelashes flutter, ashamed.

I pierce our seventh heaven

with my congealed madness,

like with a piece of rusty wire.

Tears sparkle like glass wool.

I push you away to see you better.

I’m a tree, you are a branch on my body.

You blindly grow around the iron fence

like a wooden, knobby snake.

We argue; we pick up a fight.

A cat bites its own shoulder.

Like kids or stray dogs,

We run across the highway –

it’s wet and black after the recent rain –

and the semi trucks of cruel words

swish past, honk their horns, powerful, angry, roaring.

Chitin-plated maniacs 

race around on the motorbikes of interjections,

hit the guard rail and ricochet, 

and cut the bloodied plastic. 

Gosh! We’ve nearly killed each other with words.

It is almost dawn…

—

Dmitry Blizniuk is an author from Kharkiv, Ukraine. His most recent poems have appeared in The Pinch Journal, River Poets, Dream Catcher, Magma, Press53, Sheila Na Gig, Palm Beach Poetry Festival and many others. A Pushcart Prize nominee, he is also the author of The Red Fоrest (Fowlpox Press, Canada 2018).

Sergey Gerasimov lives in Kharkiv, Ukraine. His writings span the gamut from philosophical poetry to surrealism and tongue-in-cheek fantasy. His stories have appeared in Adbusters, Clarkesworld Magazine, Strange Horizons, and others. Also, he is the author of several novels and more than a hundred short stories published mostly in Russian. Translator of Russian poetry and prose.

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Under His Care – Jacob Kobina Ayiah Mensah

It’s official: our first posted piece for our Spring 2020 season. And what a lovely way to start – we particularly liked this piece from Jacob. Enjoy.

Under His Care

Blacksmithing yellow fat made from milk ‘n’ salt,

O’Joe Cab becomes a backsliding & falling away

from close neighbours structured around

the heating hearth & a short day.

We wake up from this recovery to breathe in

something, yet to be done under grudging,

or suspicions, we struggle in your panic body,

lacking its real formation in oblivion.

A steady vibrating hum throughout the night,

Cab waits somewhere behind the gate

& the red clotting light in his eyes follows

those from their garages & their corner shops.

This late news acts as a comment on English life

strangers complain or depend on in order

to get along & find where their hyperbole

is catching. The coal miners uncover a false issue.

His immigrants, calling themselves “blacks,”

are used to fascinating names like ”Indian,”

“Pakistani,” “Bengali,” etc, something about

naming pride & its harrowing attitudes.

There’s a call from Ms. More, who keeps

cages of chickens for sale in the open market,

everything edging away from itself

& at the same time quick as apples blossoming.

This is your part & my size which is full & bright,

I open your eyes again on the disc & my pulse.

All those who come in a body to your health

are ushered into your gay heart at ease.

—

Jacob Kobina Ayiah Mensah, who is an algebraist and artist, works in mixed media. His poetry, songs, prose, art and hybrid have appeared in numerous journals. He lives in the southern part of Ghana, in Spain, and the Turtle Mountains, North Dakota. 

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A Quick Update

Hello again,

Two things:

  1. Our first round of submissions (dating back to April 2019) are currently being finalized, meaning that many authors anticipating decisions should be receiving them soon. If you do not receive a response next week, it likely means that you are in the next round to be reviewed. We’ve received so many wonderful pieces, and whether we’re able to include you or not, we thank you deeply for putting yourself out there and considering us on your journey to getting your works published.
  2. The deadline for our first Spring issue, Return of the Roar, has officially been set at March 5, 2020. If you still have pieces (writing and art alike) that you’ve been meaning to send in to us, we encourage that you utilize this weekend and early next week to do so. We would love to hear from you.

We thank you again for your participation and support!

Sincerely,

The Hedge Apple Team

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And the First Theme is…

It is with our utmost excitement that we reveal the name of our first theme for the Spring 2020 Hedge Apple: Return of the Roar.

For this issue, we are seeking submissions that do any of the following: Reminisce on the past decade, peer into the upcoming decade (can be in an optimistic or pessimistic manner), allude to the other ’20s (1920s, that is), and characterize our current time, culture, and position in the world. We are embarking on a new decade, but what does that mean? And how does it relate to what we have seen in both the recent and distant past? What will embody the 2020s? What do we have to look forward to (or stay very far away from)?

It’s the ’20s again! Get creative, get honest, get roaring. We hope to hear from you soon.

Sincerely,

The Hedge Apple Team

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Editor Introduction

Hello, readers!

As the second week of the new semester slowly comes to a close, I thought it might be best to introduce myself.

My name is Lucy Kiefert and I will be the editor-in-chief of the Hedge Apple for Spring 2020. I am currently completing my final semester at HCC and, as I do so, I will also be in charge of online and print duties for the magazine from now through May. Needless to say, I am very excited to come into contact with you all over the course of the coming weeks as submissions continue to roll in. Having the privilege to partake in others’ art (of all kinds) has always been deeply refreshing and inspiring to me.

To offer some guidance for anyone who plans on submitting to our issues this semester (Themes to be announced in the next few days!), below are what I consider to be my editor expectations as well as my personal writing/reading aesthetic. I hope it sparks something in you — perhaps, even, a new piece will come out of it.

Happy Writing! I look forward to hearing from you.

— Lucy

EXPECTATIONS: Much of what I derive my vision as an editor from has to do with how much heart I can detect in someone’s work. Oftentimes, if I’m reading something and it feels half-baked or simply thrown on the page without much care for how it sounds or what it illustrates, I lose interest — if the author can’t even seem to care about what they’re saying, it does not come naturally to me to want to do that for them. Additionally, unconventionality, uniqueness, and insight are just a few characteristics that can make a difference for me as an editor. Overall, this is what I would ask of any submissions I get: that they’re thought out, with passion behind them, sent in by writers who — no matter what it is that they’re writing about — devote themselves to that idea. I want work I can get behind, throw my support into, and be able to spend a chunk of time editing if I have to simply because I believe in it. If I can connect with the author’s intentions in some way, and sense the power in what they’re trying to create, whether it’s through a beautifully worded line or a vivid image, then I consider the piece successful. And I’d be more than likely to include it.

AESTHETIC: Anything grimy, gritty, glam, grunge, sweeping, flowing, dynamic, vintage, rustic, raw; catching a bullet between your teeth; the happy in the sad, the sad in the happy; the dark in the bright, the bright in the dark; things meaning a little more to you than they probably should; a single second stretched into an eternity; nighttime; the importance of where you are, how it looks, and how it makes you feel; heat of the moment; kicking over the table; screaming just because you want to; whining about everything and calling yourself out for it… but then choosing to own it instead; romanticizing things that never even happened; feeling like a phony… but then choosing to own it instead; accepting that you’re rather small and the world is rather big (but believing all the while that something is undeniably waiting for you out there); there is no such thing as coincidence (This was meant to happen.); putting together what absolutely should not go together (But it works, doesn’t it?); chaos and peace are not mutually exclusive; sifting through everyday occurrences for some sort of meaning and coming up empty, doing it again and coming up with your hands full; seeing the beauty in the mundane and the ugly and the terrible because we’re writers… and so there is beauty in everything… because there has to be.

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Now Accepting Submissions

Hello again!

We are pleased to inform you that Hedge Apple is officially open for submissions for Spring 2020. Themes have yet to be decided on and announced, but in the meantime, do feel free to send in any pieces you feel are eligible to be published on our site or in the coming issues.

Thank you for reading, and we hope to hear from you soon!

Sincerely,

The Editors