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BURNING HOUSE PRESS

Not For Profit/For Prophecy

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collaborations

Womannotated – Oh Cult!

October 17th

Keith Raniere and Allison Mack poetry by Kristin Garth and Marisa Silva Dunbar

Kult Ken 

by Kristin Garth

divides women and the men, considers
mind control at ten when he learns listen
is not the same as care.  Schoolgirl Skippers 
are chatty, everywhere, dripping poison 
from lonely little tongues.  Learns to use it against
them young.  Can do it with a dad bod, sweat-
band, night volleyball game with lessons condensed —
marketing, pain.  Boss Barbie in hand,
he will walk home tonight.  Tomorrow she will 
ask him before she takes a bite, now hungry 
only for what she deserves.   Holes he fills
before the next underhand serve where she 
waits on bleachers for it to happen again —
molded obedient female companion.

The Introduction: November 14, 2006

by Marisa Silva Dunbar

We are now witnesses to the origin
—here is where he ensnares you.
You are mesmerized—girlish—giggly, 
and desperate for your worth to be seen
by this man in a sweatband and kneepads. 
We know it’s just a seedy facade. Some 
of us have at one point, wanted to be 
loved by a mediocre man 

Continue reading “Womannotated – Oh Cult!”

Womannotated – Underwater Sonnets

September 12th, 2020

Continue reading “Womannotated – Underwater Sonnets”

Womannotated – The Second Time

August 29th, 2020

 

The Second Time 

She offers flesh beneath aromatic trees

against dark gates without password, key, sign  

her kind is welcome here —  save kerosene 

in lanterns near.  Arms in grate, stretched supine,

between dove gray sky, columbines, beside 

cobblestone of almond, slate.  Closes eyes,  Continue reading “Womannotated – The Second Time”

Womannotated – Crow Castle

August 9th, 2020

Crow Castle

Each maiden slumbers in her childhood bed.

Crow collects a lock from each, twines a nest

with garden twigs, hair ribbons azure, red—

sufficient room for one without a guest. Continue reading “Womannotated – Crow Castle”

Womannotated – Hot Chocolate!

Two Golden Tickets sonnets (my Charlie and The Chocolate Factory homage book of poems) from the Hot Chocolate section which involves chocolatier love triangles, femme fatale industrial spies, strip clubs and licorice .

Sugar Daddy’s

A strip club in which Arthur Slugworth, chocolatier competitor of Willy Wonka, meets the woman who will become his secretary and industrial spy and future lover of Willy Wonka.

American Candy Expo meets in
Chicago each year. Arthur Slugworth’s jet
consistently appears before show begins
day early to play. Bittersweet secrets
over his butterscotch schnapps confessed
to the ponytailed stripper; her peach ring
pop, bubblegum thong, sweet visage suggests
she is a shell you could tell anything Continue reading “Womannotated – Hot Chocolate!”

Womannotated – Golden Ticket

 

Two Golden Ticket Dark Chocolate Sonnets:

IMG_2432

illustration by Amy Suzanne

Pipe Dream

“He’s changed!” said Grandpa Joe, peering down through the glass wall of the elevator. 
“He used to be fat! Now he’s thin as straw.” Grandpa Joe on Augustus after the pipe,
Roald Dahl Charlie and the Chocolate Factory 

 All they saw, “thin as straw” Augustus who

once was not.  Boy almost boiled inside

a chocolate pot, consumed post fudge room

before the change.  Chocolate liquefied

Continue reading “Womannotated – Golden Ticket”

A Talisman for the Rivers of Eden By Zke

The following composition was inspired by the singular amulet included in this video/cover art and has survived since the seventeenth century. When Damien first came across an image of this amulet, he was transfixed by its story and beauty and knew that he had to find some way of making a ‘story’ about it. Damien hopes that it reflects his love for his Jewish and Daoist philosophy, Eastern and Western merged together. Rain, lakes, waterfalls, submerge into chaotic noise, along with the modern world of tornado sirens, childhood memories on the television, and typing essays before midnight during a rainstorm. The piece can go on as a loop, just as the amulet does so in of itself. We step into the forest to escape the modern word or record its beauty, so we don’t forget it when we’re back in our shell of a capitalistic hellhole. We put one foot back into the home and are submerged with technology, chores, activities, daily prayers, etc. Then there is both, the middle, the none. Somewhere among the noise, we hope that this piece, like a Talisman, gives you a glimmer of that mirror.

Continue reading “A Talisman for the Rivers of Eden By Zke”

Womannotated – The Night A Crow Must Go Away

A sample page from Crow Carriage, an annotated poetic horror novel set in a Victorian English seaside village.  This is the format of  the Crow Carriage book, a sonnet with an expansive annotation that tells a story in prose below (the same format as my book Flutter available at my website and Twist In Time).

The Night The Crow Must Go Away

You lie beneath a dozen nightmares.  Screams

careening down a crow-covered stair wake

you in the last second before the dream.

Continue reading “Womannotated – The Night A Crow Must Go Away”

Womannotated, Crow Carriage

 A Crow Carriage

Sonnet Double Feature:

 

Mistress of Malice 

Ten miles upon a tufted seat, elm trees

to village path, discreet, a beast will ride

to seaside town.  One hooded straggler by

him found, too young this hour to be outside

indecent bodice, brown eyes wide.  Fingers Continue reading “Womannotated, Crow Carriage”

2 Excerpts from SyncWorld by Jordan Trethewey & Jenn Zed

 

the_girl_who_draws_gynoids2 (1)
‘The Girl Who Draws Gynoids’ by Jordan Trethewey & Jenn Zed (Excerpt from ‘SyncWorld’)

Continue reading “2 Excerpts from SyncWorld by Jordan Trethewey & Jenn Zed”

3 Poems by Juliet Cook and j/j hastain

[CN: mention of rape/assault]

Ravenous Bird Brain

He thinks you’re a rape magnet,
a strangled portal for revenge,
but you aren’t. Really you are
a ruptured dome filled with crows.

A dream moving through a book
held by a local pagan,
in which every bookmark can fly
and bite the lines of what tried to kill it.

If he thought he could ban us for life,
wait until he sees all the pages under his bed
at night, crawling up the ceiling and then
dive bombing his ears.

Revising his neckline
into a pathogenic birdbath.
The only real way to sleep. Do you believe
rainbows come from atlas? So do stars

but stars are dead. So is God.
What sort of constellation
will forgive him or form a concentric shape
that rains down upon men?

Continue reading “3 Poems by Juliet Cook and j/j hastain”

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