Melancholy Hyperbole

Poetry about longing.

Tag Archive for ‘ezine’

My Parade

My Parade I remember that Thanksgiving day winter-white dress, so short with its fur edging and ties with fur balls at the ends. I twirled them in tandem, waiting to watch the parade pass by from our apartment window.   I remember my father’s conflicted face as he laughed at my finery while my mother lay still and silent in a darkened room, waiting for the pain to pass along […]

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Awakening to Mourning

Awakening to Mourning   “There’s nothing good about goodnight when it means goodbye.” ― Jeff Thomas Dad worked at the Atlantic-Richfield refinery in Port Arthur, Texas. On the morning of August 16th, 1963, when I was thirteen, he left for work before I awoke. I never saw him again, except in photographs and memories. Neither of us knew that last “good-night” was our last. There was an explosion at the […]

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Thank You and a Call for Visual Art

We wanted to take a moment to thank all our Melancholy Readers for their attention to the e-zine, as well as for their praise of Susan Rooke’s poem “All Hallows.” We know that she is thrilled, and we are as well! We hope that you will continue to stick with us, read, enjoy, and hopefully submit. We want to see your name in our submission pile! A huge thank you […]

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The Game of Whisper Down the Lane

Listen with your grownup ears. The night may speak to you with silence. The silence of leaves turning. Of a spider’s patience. Silence abiding. The moon shrugs off its silver stole, bright paradigm to let it go— loss, dependence, fear—to take the stars as your guide, the cataclysmic births and deaths, the shy-of-everlasting light, the fatal strength to face the end. We’ve changed since we were children. How many faces […]

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All Hallows

All Hallows   The air smells black, like burnt matches, like candlewicks. The moon a polished silver doorknob. It’s bitter, a chocolate night. We dance along the street like fallen leaves. Whispers spark and snap from hollow trees. We hear a sound like seeds snickering in the dry heart of a gourd, too late sense that some monstrous thing has taken form and comes clattering behind. From dreams I know […]

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Elizabeth

Old Cemetery, Owensville, Ohio I said good morning to her every day on my way to school. The rain-flattened engraving kept a century’s secret, on a headstone leaning after too many Midwestern winters. I pretended to know her: “wife of ______”, though she’d long since sifted down to dust and bones beneath the roots of our village. I invented her tragic death, looked for signs, willed her to haunt me. […]

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World Enough, And Time

She’s closed the door of her room today, which means you’re being tested. Don’t call through the door, don’t seek to enter by action, word, or thought, the three intentions necessary for sin. Or sit outside and wait; she hates that, tells you you’re a lost puppy. The language you must use evokes intentionality but doesn’t make a specific claim. The steps you take, quietly down the hall, argue you […]

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The new way we intend to help promote your #poetry.

In this digital day and age we must embrace all of the promotional platforms available to us in order to promote our art and/or the art of others. We would therefore like to present those whom we accept for publication with the opportunity to have their work featured on the popular online art community called deviantART regardless of whether or not the poet has an existing dA account, with no […]

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Welcome To Our New E-Zine

Melancholy Hyperbole is a new poetry e-zine looking for poets both published and unpublished for our inaugural issue.  We are interested in poetry about longing.  This is a wide-open subject and can mean anything from unrequited lust to the loss of a pet.  Whatever the subject matter, it must not be boring or corny.  Send us your best work.  Put a new spin on something.  Most of all, please spread […]

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