November is my favorite month, even more than my birthday month of July. It feels like time slows down just a little before we hit the fast forward button in December. The air is crisper. The Food! The company. I love everything about November.
Persona Non Grata is packed with exceptional poets writing on the theme of social exclusion.With interpretations exploring our refugee crises globally, physical and mental illness, homelessness, addiction and family estrangement, the anthology will fundraise for two important and vital charities: 'Shelter' and 'Crisis Aid UK'.
We are delighted that 'Fly on the Wall Poetry Press publishes charity anthologies- and anthology 'Persona Non Grata' is packed with poetry inspired by the concept of social exclusion. Without support such as this, we would not be able to support the people who reach out to us for help with housing issues and homelessness. Thank you so much to everyone involved."
- Lindsay Tilston Jones, Regional Community Fundraiser: Manchester
I submitted a poem entitled, "I pledge allegiance," to this lovely press called, Fly on the Wall Poetry Press. It's out now and she is taking poetry submissions, if you looking for places to submit!
I've been debating whether or not to share this.....but a few months ago, I wrote a poem about childhood trauma and #metoo movement for an anthology benefiting the prevention of child sexual abuse. I've buried this secret for so long and that one poem and one anthology call seemed like a small peeling of that wound....and then Christine Blasey Ford spoke - regardless if you believe her or not, the fact of that matter remains: there are those of us who have THIRTY YEAR OLD secrets. However far removed we may be from that day, that incident, that trauma, certain things can never leave us: smells, sounds, laughter, taunts..... those are imprinted in a survivor's dna. A memory that must be unraveled because the trauma was too much to bear.
So I happened upon this anthology call from Rhythm and Bone press.
I found survivors who never spoke up.
I discovered a community who are still grieving for an innocence taken, a trust stripped away..... a boundary that was crossed.
I dug up my secret and felt compelled to share.
In anger, I wrote.
In tears, I hashed out pieces.
In solidarity, I shared.
"I am not my rape
I tell myself today.
I am not my rape.
I told myself yesterday."
You are not your rape: an anthology coming soon.
I drink too much coffee, read too many books, and in between raising miracle babies, I find time to write.