poetry

For Unwanted Truths – Kara Dorris

poems

For Unwanted Truths

Just to let you know, my brother says, “tattoo”
in Samoan means open wound, 

life is a regression to the mean, the clear pocket of air
in an ice cube that heat releases

Just to let you know, my lover says, when fire ripples
so violently wood splits from itself,

experts call it “alligatoring”
Just to let you know, I say, I like to mirror fire

Just to let you know, my mother says, car, star,
stonepit—we are all made of carbon,

we end the way we came
Just to let you know, my grandmother says, it’s time

to travel to that foreign country,
to be carried by Saint Menas across the flooded river

Just to let you know, I say, “have a nice journey”
doesn’t mean “may you walk in beauty”

& “may you rest in peace” really means “may your ghost
not haunt the living

—

Kara Dorris earned a PhD in literature and poetry at the University of North Texas where she teaches writing. Her poetry has appeared in Prairie Schooner, Southword, The Tusculum Review, Harpur Palate, Cutbank, Tinderbox, The Tulane Review, and Crazyhorse, among others literary journals, as well as the anthology Beauty is a Verb (Cinco Puntos Press, 2011). Her stories have appeared in Wordgathering and the anthology The Right Way to be Crippled and Naked (Cinco Puntos Press, 2016).  She has published two chapbooks: Elective Affinities (Dancing Girl Press, 2011) and Night Ride Home (Finishing Line Press, 2012). She is also the editor of Lingerpost, an online poetry journal.

A Love Poem from London – Margot DeSalvo

poems

A Love Poem from London

I ask about your work,
the house, the flowers
and I miss your feet.

—

Margot DeSalvo has been teaching college composition in NYC for over a decade. Drawn to poetry from the very beginning, Margot’s poetry aims to illustrate the artifacts of intimacy, the complexities of depression, the nuances of introspection, and highlight the beauty in the mundane. Margot’s poetry has been published in the academic journal TETYC, Writing Raw, and she is currently the poetry editor and co-editor of Flatbush Review.

By the Bayou – Valerie Westmark

poems

By the Bayou

You turned up the music until we became
porous and leaked into each other,
in your car, by the bayou.

It was all sound and heat,
one of those nights the earth breathes,
and skin is all you need; potent
heard again and again.

I’m sure you don’t know
that when that song plays now,
I pause. Not for sentimentality,
no, too small. But instead
for what it is like to feel
something so large and infinite
that I cannot touch it.

—

Valerie Westmark graduated from Samford University with a concentration in creative writing. She currently adores the work of Mary Oliver & Rainer Maria Rilke and often wonders if she has consumed too much hot tea. Her poetry has been published in numerous journals and she is the current recipient of the 2016 Lower Mississippi Riverkeeper Award from the Door is A Jar Magazine.

Deferred – RaShell Smith-Spears

poems

Deferred

She wanted to be a mermaid when she grew up.
But there are no swimming pools
in the Foote Homes Projects Apartments
and besides
Black people can’t swim
her flaxen-haired teacher told her
which was better than the deluge of words
from her mother’s mouth
Girl, that’s just stupid!  You dumb
just like your daddy!
And when she thought about it
Ariel’s hair was like a flame
too hot to really touch
and she had never seen a black mermaid
so she damned up her dreams
of swimming
or even taking swimming lessons.
They sat stagnant,
muddied with mosquitoes and silt.
When she grew up she got a job
dancing
on a stage.
Her body rippled
like the waves in the water
she was now too frightened
to enter;
Her hips swerved and turned
like a river around immovable
land masses;
her bottom flopped effortlessly against the air
like a giant fin.
And when she wore her emerald
suit with the iridescent pasties,
sometimes she remembered
her flighty little girl dreams
then she dipped to the floor in an
earth-scrubbing split
and drowned herself in the music.

—

RaShell Smith-Spears is an associate professor at Jackson State University where she teaches literature and creative writing.  Her creative works have been published in several journals and anthologies, including Short Story, Black Magnolias, A Lime Jewel: An Anthology for Haiti, and Mississippi Noir.

A Mother’s Advice – Marina Sofia

poems

A Mother’s Advice

Who could love you?
She said:
You are perverse, you delight
in contradiction, raise your voice
too soon, too far
impatient, you won’t listen
to any sage advice
you want to make your own mistakes
no learning from my own.

You are hard work, she added.
I pretend it’s operetta-froth chorus,
whip my cream, point down the nozzle.
You should be grateful…
You should remember…
You must not expect…
She gave me all the ingredients
never taught me how to bake
each word sweeping away kitchen essentials
till there was nothing

mere square inch of mottled dishcloth.

—

Marina Sofia is a global nomad, reviewer and writer, who’s recently moved back to the UK after spending several years in the French Alps. She has published in online and print journals, and thinks poetry is the best procrastination when she should be working on her debut crime novel.

Letter from the Editor

letter from the editor

Happy spring everyone!

It’s that time of year again – time for us to take a break from posting so we can hunker down and get through all your beautiful submissions for the summer ebook edition. We will be back in May for more Dying Dahlia weekly goodness!

Though we won’t be posting in the month of April, we will still be accepting submissions for our online post as well as for the ebook. So keep submitting!

Also, we are looking for more art, so please spread the word! If you know a talented female artist, send her our way. We are looking to showcase as much art as possible, and we are still on the lookout for cover art for the ebook.

For guidelines, visit the GUIDELINES page to see how you can submit poems, flash fiction and art to Dying Dahlia.

We shall miss you all but stay tuned! We’ve got some great work coming at you shortly.

Much love,

Abbie Copeland
Editor

Hive Sisters – Devon Balwit

poems

Hive Sisters

So many of us, clamoring,
          mitosis gone scarily awry,

all eager to excel, careening
          toward podia, wrestling for

trophies, the swing of our medals
          raising blue bruises

between our breasts.  Trained
          to reach high, we are

forever reaching, hands straining
          upwards like saplings

from our desks, their hectic rustle
          annoying our teachers.

Even in sleep, our arms scrabble
          the headboard. But amongst us,

we do not compete. Like hive sisters,
          one’s success is that of all,

our grins genuine, each glistening
          with royal jelly.  We know

others find us insufferable, wishing
          to smack us down,

but we are too many.  We dance
          the joy of our success

to one another, each stomp and circle
          pointing to the next.

Our procession to and fro ribbons
          our DNA like a gift.

(after Cristina Troufa’s Trophy)

—

Devon Balwit is a teacher/poet from Portland, OR. She has two chapbooks: how the blessed travel (Maverick Duck Press) & Forms Most Marvelous (forthcoming with dancing girl press). Her work has found many homes, some of which are: The Inflectionist Review, The Cincinnati Review, The Stillwater Review, Sierra Nevada Review, Red Earth Review, Timberline Review, Glass: A Journal of Poetry.

*Note: The poem was inspired by Cristina Troufa’s Trophy.  You can see Cristina’s art here.

God as Woman – Shelby Lynn Lanaro

poems

God as Woman

Trust in God – she will provide.
– Emmeline Pankhurst

In kindergarten, I pictured
God for the first time
and He was a woman.

Not because I’m a woman,
and not because
I’m a feminist. Growing up

in church, we prayed
the “Our Father,”
and I still do.

But being raised by a single
mother, who brought me
to church every week,

who taught me
The Commandments
in Sunday School,

and, when I was older,
led my youth group
and confirmation classes,

of course I picture God
as a woman.

—

Shelby Lynn Lanaro is a graduate student in the MFA program at Southern Connecticut State University, where she received her Bachelor of Arts Degree in English Literature in 2014. Currently, Shelby is completing her thesis, which is a manuscript of her poems that focuses on various types of relationships. As a narrative poet, Shelby’s work is heavily based on life’s events and strong personalities.