Saturday 27 April 2013

3 Poems by Susan Terris; 3 Poems by Rebecca McKeown; Alert for Subs

3 Poems by Susan Terris::

Memo to Self

did you clap for Tinkerbelle or wish her dead
and Little Mother who betrayed Tiger Lily

you never were one to put up with competition
were you

Memo to Self

try not to see yourself as Hester that letter
the scarlet A is only the mark

of a desperate soul willing to risk
all for an alphabet of joy

Memo to Self

neither Beatrice nor Laura you are
no one’s muse no poet extolls your virtues

invokes immortality but still you may a-
muse and intimate immoralilty


Susan Terris' book GHOST OF YESTERDAY, New & Selected Poems was published in 2013 by Marsh Hawk Press. Ms. Terris is the author of six full-length books of poetry, fourteen chapbooks, and three artists’ books. Journal publications include: The Southern Review, FIELD, and Ploughshares. She had a poem from FIELD in PUSHCART PRIZE XXXI. She’s editor of Spillway Magazine and a poetry editor for Pedestal Magazine and In Posse Review.


3 Poems by Rebecca McKeown::


Trapped in a never ending loop of pill cocktails.
Anti-thises and anti-thats — prophylactic lullaby-makers
In this clinical inferno.
My head’s a hatchback open wide.

No Sunglasses

Let me down.
My spirit is spiraling—
Her wings tattered—
She’s done with soaring

She likes to stare down dreams
In back alleys,
Like a stray cat, her
Wiry, wasted purrs
Rattle past ears
Too sick to listen

Let me bounce
I want to just
Open my self
And be careless.
I don’t want
Or muse
About what
I would want
If I could have everything.

I just want to exist
And soar a little, again.
Just high enough
To brush the clouds
With my ruddy
Knees and to giggle
Through my lungs
And squint into
The sun
Because you don’t need sunglasses when you’re free.


Sitting on the park bench,
Watching old mothers
And young mothers
And pigeon ladies
And ice cream sellers
And men with pointy, greased moustaches
hustling by--each thinking in echoing chants,
“Step, step, breathe, step, breathe, step, step.”
I am reminded of your leaving
And how I’d shuffled backwards,
My feet collecting carpet fuzz,
As I’d tried to backtrack through time.


Rebecca McKeown grew up in a small western New York college town, which has inspired many of her poems and short stories. A journalist, PR coordinator, craft blogger, and handmade jewelry maker, McKeown prefers fine poetry over fine wine, and rum over most other things, except maybe whiskey. She is also the Editor-in-Chief and founder of The Rampallian literary magazine. She rambles a lot over at

Dear Submitters/Friends,

For your information, here is our new email address for submissions::, which becomes effective on 3 May 2013. please feel welcome to send all your poems and/or artworks to this address. The old email address ( will be closed permanently very soon.

Also, we have just set up our facebook account for Poetry Pacific; the address is You are more than welcome to network with us there!

Please note that PP is to switch into a quarterly publication in just a couple of days. In fact, Poetry Pacific (2.1 Spring Issue) is ready to be released on 5 May 2013; and PP (2.2 Summer Issue) has already been fully committed, but submissions are open and welcome for subsequent issues. 

Many thanks for attention, and stay tuned...

PP Editors

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