Thursday, April 17, 2014

Another Space and Time Magazine update

A second review of the current issue of Space and Time Magazine--in which I have a story--has been posted at The R'lyeh Tribune. Click here if you'd like to read it.

Monday, April 14, 2014

Space and Time Magazine updates

Below are two updates about the current issue of Space and Time Magazine, in which I have a story. 

1. SFRevu has posted a review here.
2. A digital copy of the magazine is now available at Weightless Books in MOBI, PDF, and EPUB formats. Click here to purchase.
Visit the Space and Time website or Facebook page for more.

Tuesday, March 25, 2014

Horror story in Space and Time Magazine

My first short story of the year has just been published in the Spring 2014 issue of Space and Time Magazine (#120). It's a tale of psychological horror.

The story takes place on the porch of a suburban nursing home. The sun has set, but the air remains hot and humid. Two old men sit in rocking chairs, deeply engaged in conversation. They have not spoken in 60 years, and it isn't long before dark secrets are revealed, dangerously affecting each man's mental and physical health.

Who, or what, murdered those kids on the day the old-time circus rolled into town? Why have these two men not spoken in so long? The horrific details will leave you


I dare you to read... "The Tramp Clown's Secret!"

You can get a copy of Space and Time Magazine by going to their website at It might also be on the shelf at your local bookstore or magazine stand. A digital version will be available soon.

Sunday, March 9, 2014

Faerystruck Down

Here it is, the poem that got me my first Rhysling Award nomination. Written after coming home from Ireland a few years ago. It was first published in Volume 9, Issue 1 of Tales of theTalisman.

Faerystruck Down 

In the rolling fog of the purple sea
Where slugs infest the ridge
      And breeze-bent heather
      Tethers ghosts of the drowned 

Beyond the threshold of the mind
Where sea hags howl at the moon
      And shapes unseen
      Sneak away human babes 

Lies the maritime trail I was warned not walk
Urged by patrons of the old pub
To return to America, and be gone at next breath:
      “For too tempting is the tourist from afar!” 

But I split my sides at their heathen pleas
Doused their cares with whiskey and ale
Till after a spell, I was cheered out of town
      Pushed along streets of leaping whispers 

So onward to accursed shores I went
Bold with humor and the prod of drink
      Where fish-lipped merrows in cohuleen druiths
      Leered from frothy kelp isles 

And the mutterings in belch-bogs grew ever near . . .
And the perverted, creeping shadows . . . 

I will never forget their dream-drenched faces
As they sang and danced and picked over my end
Their goblets high in the salty spray of the purple sea
      Where many a mortal bone now rests in the deep 

And in my last moments of earthly acquaintance,
Head a pivot and lit with fires green,
They branded my soul to the tongue of lore
      Forever to break out madly from seaside lips

Saturday, March 8, 2014

Quieting the Agnostic

I have the quixotic urge
to steal thunder from the rain;
to take the pain
from our tears. 

To secure and sculpt it;
to create an elation all my own,
so that in a god’s honor
I can set the thing free. 

Because I’ve come to know
that everything sad or lost
is not really sad or lost
when the day comes;
when the truth comes. 

     And all the cold stars
     are a million degrees.

Monday, March 3, 2014

Making Amends

He is making amends to his victims
in the swarm of their ghosts, enduring
the blades, the beatings, the wringing hands—
each angry shade sucking up heat
as its own death reblooms and blackens.

For thirty years, few women walked
that city alone. In dreams they shrank
beneath his composite-face, took to prayer
in the gore of his wake. The law shaved
off its own flesh, trying to bring closure.

The instant death claimed him in age, a pack
of shades broke from the freeze, scurried
like bats to the rising maw of Hell. There
they blocked him, traded one of their own.
He is making amends to his victims.

First published in the April 2013 issue of Star*Line.

Thursday, February 13, 2014

Prose poem published in Tales of the Talisman

One of my new prose poems, titled "Misery of He Who is Older than All Men," has just been published in the Winter 2013/14 issue of Tales of the Talisman (Vol. 9, Issue 3). This marks my second appearance in the magazine, with two more pieces slated for publication later this year. As always, thank you to Editor David Lee Summers for continuing to accept my work. See the links below if you'd like to purchase a copy or subscription of this highly recommended magazine.

Click here for a print copy from the Tales of the Talisman website
Click here for a print copy from Amazon

Wednesday, February 12, 2014

Poem nominated for Rhysling Award

Here's some good news that I am quite excited about:

My poem "Faerystruck Down"* has been nominated for the annual Rhysling Award in the category of "Best Short Poem of 2013." This is a great honor for me, and regardless of the outcome, I am very grateful for having my work recognized at this level. Good luck to all the nominees!
I don't have many details yet, but what I do know is that all nominated works will be compiled into an anthology called The Rhysling Anthology, after which members of the Science Fiction Poetry Association (SFPA) will cast their votes for the final winners.
I'll post again when the anthology is released and made available for purchase.

*First published in Tales of the Talisman, Vol. 9, Issue 1

Monday, February 10, 2014

Old notebook poem

For fun, let's dig deep into the past and explore my old notebook. Something a bit embarrassing and extra sappy. Just in time for Valentine's Day.

Let Us Go There 

Can you accept, my love,
regression to older ways,
more passionate days? 

To fall into a swoon of love
and lose the world through the haze? 

To a time when romance was a pink hue,
searching for souls on earth's winds? 

To a place where heroes forgot time and distance
to reach their maiden? 

Let us go there, my love:
Please, take my hand, it longs to bring you,
and follow my heart, it longs to show you.


Tuesday, February 4, 2014

Monday, February 3, 2014

Two poems published in online poetry journal

I have two poems in the latest issue of Voices on the Wind, an online poetry journal.

"A Little of the Mystery Come" is a poem inspired by a falling leaf, and it first appeared in the Fall 2012 issue of WestWard Quarterly. "Phoenixes" is an old poem that I recently decided to polish for publication.

Click here if you'd like to read these poems.

Saturday, February 1, 2014

Poems published in anthology for charity

This post is about a charity publication I'm in called Passages. It's a poetry anthology from Dagda Publishing, and 50% of the proceeds go to charities for the disabled and the homeless. It is not expensive, and the book comes in paperback ($6.64 US) and ebook ($2.99 US) formats. It is available in multiple countries. 

Two of my poems are featured in this anthology. It also features wonderful poems by Wilda Morris, a very talented writer I know from Chicago. 

For the record, I greatly support charity-driven publications. So please consider buying a copy and sharing this post with friends and family. It's a nice gift idea. And, as Editor Reg Davey says, "Buy a book, feed your mind, support charity and social enterprise." 

Thanks for listening! 

Here's how to get it*: 

For the paperback, click here.
For the Kindle version, click here.

*Let me know if these options don't work for you. There might be alternatives. 

Lastly, please visit Dagda Publishing for other charity titles: website

Saturday, January 11, 2014

Poem to be read on UK radio

Another one of my poems (not sure which) will be read on Saturday January 18th during The Open Mike Poetry Show, an hour-long broadcast from UK radio station 107.1 FM in Winchcombe. The program will air at 2 PM (London time), then re-air on Wednesday January 22nd at both noon and 6 PM (again, London time). The only way to listen, however, is online (see link below), unless, of course, you live in the broadcast zone. Check it out if you get a chance.

Note: Soon after the final airing, the show will be archived and accessible via a forthcoming iCloud link.

Friday, January 10, 2014

I'm beginning to agree

If poetry comes not as naturally as the leaves to a tree, it had better not come at all. -- John Keats

Wednesday, January 8, 2014

A Hermit Thrush

Photo by Daniel Berganza
The first time I realized I had any purpose was just a few years ago, in an impossibly quiet, montane pine forest beneath a singing Hermit Thrush. The experience dissolved my hopelessness and I was forever altered by that magical song. Vines spiraled around my bones. Petty concerns were given to decay. My heart opened a little, like a shy flower, and made me realize things I'd never realized before. When I emerged from those dim woods, I found myself strangely confident and energized, as if having just made love to a muse. Since then I've longed for an experience just as profound, but it hasn't happened so specifically.

Today, a Hermit Thrush visited our backyard. I was watching her hop along a snow-covered branch when it dawned on me: the mountains, the forest, that song from all those years ago, the entire experience isn't merely a thing of the past. It's always with me, and I can turn to it whenever I need it, which is often, which is today. Sometimes it just takes the appearance of that speckled little bird to remind me.

Thursday, January 2, 2014

Volunteer Project 2013

In 2013, a great deal of my time was spent doing research and compiling data for the second edition of "Lord Dunsany: A Comprehensive Bibliography" by S.T. Joshi and Darrell Schweitzer. Dunsany, an Irish writer and dramatist, is one of my favorite authors and an inspiration to my own work, which made my involvement in the project quite special. It also afforded me the opportunity to work with someone I've long admired, S.T. Joshi, a literary critic, novelist, and leading scholar in the study of H.P. Lovecraft and others.

The book has just been released and is available in both hardcover and digital formats.

Friday, December 13, 2013


You wake up one morning and suddenly you're older than one of your parents. You weren't sure what to expect. You certainly didn't expect to feel indifferent. For years you'd been wondering about the similarities, the differences, always aware that there was no way of truly knowing. But your heart isn't filled with alcohol and smoke and shards of spirit. You are a better person than they were. That much you do know.

Tuesday, December 10, 2013

A bad joke I wrote for fun

Mr. and Mrs. Mold attended the leftovers party but were very dull guests. They were sporing.

Sunday, November 17, 2013

Excerpt from "Nowadays"

How can one view and understand so old a thing as life or so new and strange a thing as this varying age, so full of machinery and politics, without the help of those rare minds that look, without reeling, upon essential things? -- from "Nowadays," an essay by Lord Dunsany

Friday, November 15, 2013

Poem read on UK radio program

My poem "Stopwatch" being read on The Open Mike Show, an hour-long program on UK radio station 107.1 FM in Winchcombe. Original broadcast date: 18 May 2013.

Tuesday, October 29, 2013

Featured artist at A Place for Tulsi

by Evelyn Williams. Photo Credit:
Pembroke College Oxford JCR Art Collection
This month I am the featured artist at A Place for Tulsi, an online initiative to "acknowledge and create an awareness of the cultural diversity in the community of poets." In addition to a short bio, poems included are "A Lament for Sylvia," "Little Girl," "A Little of the Mystery Come," and "Before the Storm Wet the Earth." Thank you to Editor Anna Raman for the honor of including me in your special publication. Click here to visit A Place for Tulsi.

Wednesday, October 23, 2013

Words are All I Have

Words I'm frightened to say
dangle off deep breaths
and gentle voice.

I listen to every syllable I speak to you,
making sure no bad judgment in word
or accent escapes.
And they fumble from my thoughts
as the thoughts rumble:

I want you back
I can be different
this time

Why I think my carefully selected
phrases might persuade you I don't know.

But if to get you back were possible
with my arrangement of speech,

Then I wish to be king of words,
or poet of my time.


(From the book Kairos)


for Kelly K. Moran

A cold front arrived
in Chicago yesterday,
and life was lulled
into a wintry nap.

I wear the brown scarf
you made for me
and stand in front of
yellow witch-hazel in the snow.

Here I pace the line
between reverence and concern,
thinking how difficult it must be
to survive in the cold.

I turn and gather these thoughts
while rubbing my hands together.
The wind shakes the trees
and I must go to you—

There, I will keep you warm.
Always until the spring returns.


First published in the Fall-Winter 2009 issue of A Prairie Journal.