I received a rejected letter from a literary journal a day after I turned 34. If my work were to get published, then this would be one of the loveliest birthday gifts from the publishing world. Frankly speaking, I don’t mind rejection letters. I’ve gotten them so much that I can make collage on the wall. It’s part of growing up as a writer. It helps me (the writers) to grow-up and mature before we are accepted by one of the top-five publishing houses.
Now, the editor commented the lack in its ‘form, structure and plot’. And she’s willing to help me to polish it up, so that I’m ‘always welcome to re-submit’ to the journal again. Fine. I did as she told. It’s approaching a week or so, and I have yet to hear from her.
‘When there’s a will, there’s a way.’
Right. ‘That’ isn’t the only journal that’s available in this world. I can never blocking the door, idly standing there. I have to move on, not that I still have my legs that functioning, but I’m not going to waste anymore time. I’ve already submitted it to another literary mag, and had other alternative online journals in mind, as well.
Somehow, the feminism theory that I’d studied in the Jurisprudence class has kept me going ’til this day.
First of all, let me apologize for my four months missing in action. Mr Thunder and Ms Rain are on their way, hence, I have to finish this before they found me. Or, if I’m daring enough to write this under their nose (Eek, if they ever have a nose lol)…
I’ve done some manuscript editing and then put it aside cos’ I have something in mind that I have to do, or else it’ll be like a raven crow pecking my head wherever I go.
WanderInkZ Creative Services – I’ve set up this small business venture on Facebook to sell my framed and printed poems, instead of printing them in a chapbook. This is for those who wish to purchase my work individually, of course it’s not as cheap as a chapbook. Having said so, I’ve spent all my time to choose the best photo frame, beautifully designed papers, of which some I designed on my own, using fabric tapes, lace tapes and other ornaments, in order to provide the best and well-decorated artwork…in writing. I’m also taking in personalized poems ordering. This business will also branching into writing motivational poems, poetry editing services and poetry writing workshop. Do check the page out and click a ‘Like’ (truly appreciate that): https://www.facebook.com/wanderinkzCS
ZiggyZag Arms Poetry Journal – It says it all, as a published poet besides volunteering for Eastlit to be part of the editorial board member, I’ve started my own online poetry journal. It aims to publish under-represented and emerging Asian descent poets around the world (even if you’re half Asian, you’re welcome to submit). The publication months are February, April, June, August, October and December. Do check the website: http://ziggyzagarmspoetryjournal.weebly.com. Facebook ‘Like’ us (truly appreciate that): https://www.facebook.com/ziggyzagarmsPJ
Stay tune for more of me and my other baby-ventures…
Have you seen my hair clip?
The one I couldn’t leave without —
You then ignore as I’m rummaging
through your drawers and cabinets,
You detach it from a stack of script
and then put it on me before ambling
to the kitchen with my coffee mug.
This inspiration comes
when I needed you most,
Waste no more time
to the one I should learn
to love right now. Watching you
sipping between coffee,
Lips got burnt due to
your face plastered on the screen,
I should burn your Apple, instead —
I’m falling for you
Steaming coffee leaving its mouthpiece,
Chicken and cheese smoking in the oven,
Licking jelly of petroleum gloss, with
out your kiss on my skin
I see bullet holes
above the velvet sky
with starry starry fingers pointing. And then
before I knew you were shrinking.
Hold me now, I’m free-falling
So many I want to say to you
You keep pushing me away
Pretend that I’m okay but I’m not.
They say you’re no good for me
I deserve a better candidate
Sit down and think of our good times
Heart’s beating when I’m not supposed to.
One look, and I melt like an ice-cream
Missing your voice and that sweet smile
Promises gone astray like milky venom
Who says everything will be the same, again?
Deep within my heart
Am repeating the daily routine
If I’m a coy to trick and no treat,
Why wasting coffee and cheap talks?
Baby, I should be up and going
No loitering in the dark circle
Eating me alive like parasites
Good in disguising. I’ve forgiven you
for what you have done to me.
Coffee’s turning cold
Eyes met no more
Say something, please.
Even if you don’t love me.
But then I know; for sure
When one door’s closes,
another will open.