Recent Publication Credits
Some recent publication credits.
Cherry House Press is publishing my “Dream Girl” in an anthology of Dreams due in April.
We hope to publish the anthology in April.
You can follow our page on Facebook at : https://www.facebook.com/CherryHousePress/
We will post the date of when our anthology will be released.
Thanks again for your submission! Have a great day.
Ariana R Cherry
Cherry House Press
You know you’re in love when you can’t fall asleep because reality is finally better than your dreams.
The dreams started when I was a senior at Berkeley High School in 1974. About a month before I graduated, I fell asleep in a physics class after lunch and had the first dream:
A beautiful Asian woman was standing next to me, talking in a strange language. She was stunning—the most beautiful girl I had ever seen. She was in her early twenties, with long black hair, and piercing black eyes. She had the look of royalty. She looked at me and then disappeared, beamed out of my dream like inStar Trek. I fell out of my chair screaming, “Who are you?” She did not answer.
About a month went by, and then I started having the dream repeatedly. Always the same pattern.
Early morning, she would stand next to me talking. I would ask who she was, and she would disappear. She was the most beautiful, alluring woman I had ever seen.
I was struck speechless every time I had the dream.
I had the dream every month during the eight years during which I went to college and served in the Peace Corps. In fact, when I joined the Peace Corps, I had to decide whether to go Korea or Thailand. The night before I had to submit my decision, I had the dream again and it made me sure that she was in Korea waiting for me.
After the Peace Corps, I still hadn’t met my dream woman. I got a job working for the U.S. Army as an instructor and stayed in Korea. I kept having the dream, until I had the very last one: She was standing next to me, speaking to me in Korean, but I finally understood her. She said, “Don’t worry, we will be together soon.”
Why was that the last time I had the dream? Because the very next night, the girl in my dream got off the bus in front of me. She went on to the base with an acquaintance of mine, a fellow teacher, and they went to see a movie. I saw her and found the courage to speak with her. We exchanged phone numbers and agreed to meet that weekend.
The next night, she was waiting for me as I entered the Army base to teach a class. She told me she was a college senior and she had something to tell me. I signed her on to the base and left her at the library to study while I taught, and then we went out for coffee after class. She told me she was madly in love with me, and that I was the man for her. I told her not to worry as I felt the same.
That weekend, we met Saturday and Sunday and hung out all day. On Sunday night, I proposed to her. It was only three days after we had met, but for me it felt like we had met eight years ago. I had been waiting all my life for her to walk out of my dreams and into my life, and here she was.
Her mother did not want her to marry a foreigner. One day, about a month after we met, she invited me to meet her parents. I brought a bottle of Jack Daniels for her father and drank the entire bottle with him. He approved of me, but her mother still had reservations. After a Buddhist priest told her my future wife and I were a perfect astrological combination, she agreed, and we planned our wedding.
The wedding was a media sensation in South Korea. My wife explained it to me years later. At the time, I was overwhelmed just by the fact that we were getting married and I didn’t fully understand how unusual this was. My wife was of the old royal clan, distant relatives to the former kings of Korea. In the clan’s history, only two people had ever married foreigners: my wife, and Rhee Syngman, who was the the first President of South Korea. My father, who was a former Undersecretary of Labor, came out for the wedding, which fueled even more media interest. Our marriage defied the stereotypical Korean-foreign marriage where the women married some hapless GI just to escape poverty and immigrate to the U.S. We were the first foreign/Korean couple to get married at a Korean Army base. Over 1,000 people came to the wedding, and my father was interviewed on the morning news programs.
This all happened thirty-five years ago, and I am still married to the girl in my dreams. Now, whenever we are apart, I still see her in my dreams, watching over me as I sleep.
~Jake Cosmos Aller
Plethora Magazine has published October Falling Rain and the Story of How We Met
|Feb 13, 2019, 10:51 PM|
The falling rain
Of late October
Fills me with essential dread
As I rush about
And end up here
Wherever here is
The rain outside
Seems like the tears of god
As I sit
Crying over my beer
Thinking of lost love
And failed dreams
What went wrong?
And what I can set right
And the rain falls
And the night darkens
The rain is falling
All over this man’s world
And the rain falls
And I sit
Drinking my lonesome drink
Lost in dreary lonely dreams
Dreaming of what
Could never be
Thinking dark thoughts
And so I sit there in the bar
And drink and dream the night away
The Story of How We Met
this is a true story. I had the first dream in 1974, and met her in 1982.
It all began in Berkeley, California
In the spring time of 1974
One fateful afternoon
I was doing in my high school
I looked up and saw
A tall, beautiful Asian woman
standing looking at me.
I screamed out,
Who are you?
like she was beamed away from my dream.
I knew that someday I would meet the girl
In the dream
Little did I know
I would have to wait until 1982
Starting that month
I began having the same dream
Month and month and month.
Always the same.
She was saying something
To me in a strange language.
Then one day I had the dream
and knew that she was in Korea.
So, I chose to go Korea
In the Peace Corps,
That I would meet her there.
One day I was in a foul mood.
I had decided to give up on dating Korean women,
And on women in general
After having had several relationships
That did not go anywhere.
I was thinking of returning to the States
For Graduate school.
That morning early in the morning
I had the last of these dreams.
This time I understood her.
She said, “Don’t worry.
We’ll meet soon.”
As I was getting off the bus
To go to my class
I saw getting off the bus
The girl in my dream.
It was she!
I was speechless.
I did not know what to do.
Over the course of the evening
I ran into her several times.
Finally, I was introduced to her.
I muttered some lame excuse
About wanting to find a Korean tutor,
and got her number.
The next day she came to the gate of my base.
Where I was teaching ESL to Koreans
She said that she had to speak with me.
I told to wait in the library for about an hour,
and I would cancel class
and meet her then.
We went out for coffee.
She told me that she was madly
in love with me
And simply had to have me.
I told her I felt the same way.
I proposed five days later,
And got married one month later.
Does she believe this story?
She claims she does not believe it
Because it is impossible to be true.
But I know that there are other worlds
And other times.
In a past life we must have been together somehow.
And our love was so strong
That it crossed over the barrier of past lives.
She found me in 1974,
But it took until 1982
For us to meet.
And it has been 26 years
Since we met in the physical sphere
Or 37 years since the dream began
And I still recall the dream
And meeting her
I had no choice
When I met her
We were fated to be together
Until the end of this life time
And the next and the next.
Hope this mail finds you in good health.
I am making this mail to inform you that the first digital winter issue of Plethora Magazine is live now and its breathing there amid the larger audience and people are truly appreciating and enjoying the first issue.
Here is the link for the digital issue. https://view.joomag.com/plethora/M0213725001549720682
Hope you will enjoy reading it as much I enjoyed curating the content. And once again I thank you for your contribution which made the first issue possible.
Also the Spring Submission period has started, do check in the group for further details.
With Best Regards,
7th Extinction Event
the Story of How We Met
A Revolution is Coming
One Night in Bombay
Old Cars are King of the Road Again
Illusions Stripped Away
Academy of Hearts and Mind has published “Illusions Striped Away,” “The Last Bee Ends Humanity’s Reign,” and “7th Extinction Event.
Illusions Stripped Away
Illusions Stripped Away
Illusions stripped away
I look at myself
63 years old
In reasonable health
Living with my wife
Retired living overseas
Writing a blog
Getting poetry and short stories published
And don’t understand
Why I can’t be happy
Political news infuriates me
And causes stress
Perhaps it is time to just let go
Don’t worry about things
That I can not control
Be content with what I have
Help manage our real estate
Write in my blog
Be more positive
And reflect on what I have
The Last Bee Ends humanity’s Reign
The Humboldt Glacier, located high in the Andes mountain range in Venezuela, is the country’s last glacier. Glaciers are disappearing around the world due to climate change, which has also been a factor in declines and extinctions of animal species elsewhere. This month saw the death of George, the last snail of the Hawaiian species Achatinella apexfulva, named after Lonesome George who died in 2012, the last of the Galápagos tortoises. Write a poem about an object that is the last of its kind to ever exist, either in reality or hypothetically. How is the disappearance of your chosen subject significant in its own way?
The end of humanity’s reign
Of supremacy on earth
Came about with the death
Of the last bee on earth
Scientists had been warning the world
For a number of years
Of the dire consequences of the collapse
Of the insect world
Especially the humble bee
That played such a vital role
In keeping many plants alive
The bees were eaten by birds
And the birds were eaten
By other animals
Without the work of the humble bee
Commercial agriculture collapsed
Causing widespread famine
Across the world
Scientists rushed to the rescue
Deploying robot bees
And GMO bees
But to no avail
The fix was in
And humanity’s goose
Was cooked so to speak
And with the collapse of agriculture
Came the collapse of urban civilization
And the end of urban civilization
Led to billions of people
Facing starvation in the ruined cities
Some rich people bounded together
And build vast underground cities
Where they continued the experiment
Of robot bees and GMO bees
But nothing worked
And humanity’s long descend
Towards extinction began
It all happened within a few years
One day everything was normal
Scandals, wars, threat of wars
Endless infotainment news
Three years latter
50 million rich people
Were living in caves
Along with 150 million slaves
The end of humanity
Caused the rests of the world
To gradually recover
The bees were never consulted
They had no role to play
Just the humble workers
Who had fed the world
But they were no more
Other ways to survive
And the world went on
Without the human overlords
Who remained huddled in their caves
Dreaming of one day
Returning to reclaim the world
Just as the bible proclaimed
7th Extinction Event
With the collapse of the humble bee
The 6th extinction event continued unabated
As climate change begins to unravel
Extreme weather becomes the norm
Commercial agriculture fails
Water and electric systems fail
Urban areas are abandoned
The rich retreat to underground caves
And take with them workers
Who become slave labor
But happy to be alive
As the 6th extinction
Morphs into the 7th
And final extinction event
The fall of humanity
Looms over the planet
With the collapse of urban civilization
Climate change slows down
But a new ice age
Starts in earnest
Natures ultimate revenge
|Mon, Feb 4, 10:30 PM|
You’re welcome. Your poems will appear on the website on March 7, 8, and 11.
On Fri, Feb 1, 2019 at 5:44 PM jake aller <firstname.lastname@example.org> wrote:
Hey thanks so much and thanks for making my day.
On Fri, Feb 1, 2019 at 10:42 PM Academy Heart <email@example.com> wrote:
Thank you for your submissions. We will publish your poems “Illusions Striped Away,” “The Last Bee Ends Humanity’s Reign,” and “7th Extinction Event.”
Here is the link to your other submission on our website:
Horror, Sleaze, Trash has published Mean Streets of Bombay
Wound up using your excellent “Mean Streets of Bombay” in this one, so thanks again for contributing 🙂
On Tue, Mar 26, 2019 at 1:38 PM Arthur Graham <firstname.lastname@example.org> wrote:
Attached, if interested.
Many thanks and best regards,
One Night in Bombay, India
One wild night in Bombay, India
I walked into 20 drinks too sober
On the wicked wrong end of a Friday night booze run
On the bad side of the Moon
over by where the Martian dudes
Sat drinking their Martian whisky,
ogling the Venus maidens
Leering at the earth women who were walking by
Wearing skin tight pants made their eyeballs hurt
I gave into the spirit and went over to the Martian dudes
And got drunk on the Martian madness,
shot after shot
Smoking some good old-fashioned Mars dust
And flew off to the planet Jupiter
Just to have me some fun with a lady
Who said she was from Saturn
I did not know she was from the planet Pluto
Until I woke up the next day,
naked, under the alien Sun
In jail on the Planet Alpha Centura,
light years from home,
A million miles away,
a thousand years in the future
And I had no money,
no way home
Still 20 drinks too sober,
I just sat down in that jail
and started drinking away my time
Drinking fine cold assed Centurion wine
and Pluto Whisky
One day I woke up and found myself back in Bombay
Standing outside that that evil bar in the miasmic mist
Over by the Martian whorehouse,
down by the Gate of India
And I walked up to the Saturn-Pluto babe
And said, man that was some bad shit
Let’s do it again someday, she smiled and I had my way
Knew the day would come again
When I would be drinking with the Martians
And something wicked my way would come
Just another night of wicked fun
On the wrong side of the Moon
On the right night
in the mean streets of Bombay
Duane Voorhes has published “The Revolution Is Coming” and ‘Rambling Man” on his Poetree site.
A revolution is coming
A revolution is coming
I can feel it in my bones
A revolution is coming
And it will wipe out
The collapsing edifices
Of the American Empire
The masses are rising up
To throw off their chains
And demand justice
The masses are coming
For the masters of the universe
Their days are numbered
And they know it too
The masses will rise up
Storm the citadels of power
Arresting the corrupt leaders
In the name of revolutionary justice
Stringing them up
One by one
As the revolutionary fires
Consume the nation
And I can’t wait
For the revolution
Is long over due
Until I met the end
Of my life
Still wondering what it all meant
Lincoln Memorial — Vladimir Manyuhin
Rambling Man – Where Do I Belong?
I have been a rambling man
All my adult life
Grew up in Berkeley, California
Went to college in Hayward and Oberlin
During my lost year
Lost in a fog of booze and pot
Then I came back to reality
And went to college
In Stockton, California
The Central Valley
Ohio transplanted to California
Then after four years in Stockton
With extended weekends
And breaks in Berkeley
I became an expatriate wanderer
Peace Corps worker in Korea
Then taught ESL in Korea
For four years
Occasionally returning to my home
But always wanting to be elsewhere
Then back to Korea
And then Seattle for four years
Driving back and forth to the bay area
Stopping off in Southern Oregon
Eventually bought a house and duplex
In Southern Oregon
Vaguely thinking we would retire there
Some day when my rambling ways were over
Then back to Korea for three more years
Then I joined the Foreign service
And my wife the military
And I wandered the world again
Always dreaming of my next somewhere
As I was a permanent expat
And a diplomat to boot
Never a local
But never really felt I belong there
Or in the America
That was becoming more and more
A foreign land
The longer I stayed away
I stayed on in DC for almost ten years
Off and on
But never really felt that I belong there
I was too West Coast in my heart
And DC seemed to be
Just a place to stay
In between travels
Stayed in Thailand
Then later India
And Eastern Caribbean
And later Spain
Traveled to 45 countries
Lived in ten
And now I am retired
Still torn between
living the expat life
In Seoul, Korea
And returning to the West Coast
And occasionally back to DC
And Florida as well
And I wonder
Where do I belong
Where do I belong
Other than wherever
My wife and I end up
Neither here nor there
Half way there
And so is that my fate
Never to really belong
Never to have roots in the ground
Always wanting to be somewhere else
Always a stranger in my native land
And a stranger in my other home
Across the sea
There is no answer to these questions
As the rambling urge comes again
And I prepare to move yet again
Hoping someday I will be
Somewhere where I can stop
These rambling blues
And really be there
Homeless Wanderer — Anna Jagla
Rosa Maleficarum has published three of my poems, Lost, Fake Mosquitos and Old Cars are King of the Road Again
That is fake
take the development of fake mosquitoes
mosquitoes who carry with them good bacteria
that will destroy the bad bacteria
that causes malaria, dengue, Zita, yellow fever
and all the other insect born illness
the good mosquitoes will breed with the bad ones
and eventually the bad ones will all go extinct
scientists are experimenting
one model has only male mosquitoes
which has one benefit
only females bite and sting
which is a metaphor
but I am not sure what
in any event
long live the fake mosquitoes
and death to the bad mosquitoes
Lost in my own world
Oblivious to the world around me
Sometimes I fail to see the beauty of the world
Trapped, falling deep into my own fears
OLD CARS ARE THE KING OF THE ROAD AGAIN
After the end of the world
after the bombs stopped falling
and the nuclear holocaust ended
there was nothing left that worked
except for old cars
left for dead
deep in the forests
and the old cars
now were the king of the road
nothing else worked
and no one was left alive
except the old run down
who lived deep in the woods
They drove around the now dead world
looking for signs of life
as they nursed their ancient cars
down the dusty road
and eventually, they found
a few survivors
the world began again
with the dreams of old men
in their ancient old cars