Wednesday, December 24, 2008

Featured (Christmas) Poet: Mary Brown

ATTENTION ALL FLOWERIES: It's Christmas time, and you know what that means...fierce competition from that dastardly Hannukkah (my Grandma is still fuming at me for missing her Matzo Ball soup), 20% more effigies of the baby Christ on people's lawns, and, of course, miracles. This isn't quite a full fledged, part-the-red-seas type, as such...but it's been lingering in the O Sweet Flowery mailbag line and deserves to be brought out. Tis' the Season. Remember: JAN 22 IS THE NEXT READING XXXTRAVAGANZA. "Hi, I'm an out of touch poet, Mary Brown, from small town Oklahoma. I took up writing again to fill a void, and am more thankful than ever for creative outlets! Here is my first poem in years." Time is irrelevant in a world of you, But still it feels wasted. I'm strong, yet helpless, my weakness was you, And still I wasted away. Rebuilding is starting new. Time was wasted building a life unused. So much time I wasted. Worlds of life are floating by Far from my grasp. Time spent chasing another world that's not real Time I wasted to become your ideal Helplessly wasting away. Now life has no weight, my roots are dry. I have nothing green, nothing new, Any life I had I gave to you, I wasted away. Winter has settled deep in my veins yet time is on my side, for Spring is coming!

Sunday, December 7, 2008

Featured Poet: Tacuma Baye

“My name is Tacuma Baye and that's African for "He is alert and straightforward!" I am a New York native, born and raised in Brooklyn. Currently I'm 34 years old, father of a beautiful little girl and aside from my occupation and daddy duties, I'm an adventure and good time seeker. I ride/race motorcycles (nonprofessionally), have a love for entertaining and I am a writer. This is my passion. I'm working on many projects which include stories, novels, screenplays and of course, poetry. During my school years I've always been encouraged to pursue writing. Throughout my life it has been more of a private affair for me until I began to share my poetry with close friends. I've never been published and I came upon "O Sweet Flowery Roses" while on Craigslist. I would like to share some of my work with you and I hope you enjoy them!”

It's a real honor and privilege to publish emerging poets on this site, and I think there's a particularly cool feeling with being the first journal to do so.

Plus, rejection slips really suck. Ask anyone who's ever submitted anything.

A reminder to NYC poets: Jan. 22 is the date of our next reading. If you don't you know.

I Wasn’t Supposed To Love You

I wasn’t supposed to love you

A good time, a fuck or a screw

Nah! believe it or not I had more respect for you

But the bottom line is, I wasn’t supposed to love you

I was supposed to break down your barriers. I was supposed to influence your mind

But in order to achieve that I wasn’t supposed to give up mine

Not my mind, not my heart, but I gave it all

No wait! You took it all! You tripped me! You made me fall!

Put my back against the wall!

Till I had you in the hall against the very same wall

Please! Let it be my name you call…

Tell me you love me, that’s how it should be

I wasn’t supposed to love you…I don’t think you hear me

You can’t say you hear me, calling

Eyes flooded with tears, reflecting on the years

Hard times, facing questions, reliving my fears

Who are you? How’d you get here? Who gave you the right?

No fuck that! Who gave you the light?

Unveiling what’s behind the shadows, forcing me to go through me closet

Stupid ass cops, why didn’t they go through the closet

They would have found him, and then it would end

If she’s your friend, why both of y’all in the bed with him

See…here we go again, taking me there. Why you making me share?

Don’t you know I’m selfish…?

I take everything and I don’t give shit!

You heard the rumors, act like you ain't believe it!

I sent you gifts, tell me you ain’t receive it!

What shoes? My gifts were love

Love is…all I have…for now that is

Me stay down? That is not the life I intend to live

I’m on the rise my dear. Take my hand and have no fear

Our love will persevere! Wait! How’d you get me back here?

I wasn’t supposed to love you! Don’t you get it?

Am I trying to convince you or me…shit, forget it!

It’s all out now, can’t try to hide in the open

I just dread the day I’m left in the middle of the ocean


Waiting For You

Here I sit, waiting for you.

Like a dream, or a wish, or a prayer…Waiting for you to come true

Here I sit, frozen in time

Seconds pass as if they’re hours, days pass as if they’re years

Life goes on, All lives except mines

Here I lay in a pool of black, as black as a moonless night

Caught up in your rapture, so the pillow I cling to tight

Waiting for the day black turns to white, burning oils and candle lights

No longer a pool of darkness but a sea of delight

Soaking in your Brown Sugar, drowning in your sweet essence

Delving deeper, foregoing air. To die here would be heaven

But instead I lie here condemned to hell. Instead I lie here naked, abandoned

If hell is hot why am I so cold? You said I have power, should I have been more demanding?

Don’t make me wait for you, do you wait for me?

Do you cry, hug the pillow, shun your surroundings, forego companionship?

Ignore needs and desires, because your body aches only for me?

Here I sit, my very essence throbbing, pulsing, laying with great weight in my hand

The weight of your body on mines, but only in my mind. The weight of the Cognac heavy on my eyes

The weight of the truth pressed upon me. But never as heavy as the weight of the lies

It’s not me it’s you, ride me. Yes it’s you! Straddle me, fuck me, give me my pussy! Yes, it’s you!

But it’s not…it’s here the lies just stopped. On the floor beneath me, it’s here the lies just dropped

Body jerking, hand gripping, heart racing, my love dripping…

It’s not you, it’s only a vision. It’s not you, it’s only me wishing

Wanting, waiting, taunting, hating. This process is a task, why do it I ask?

To wait for you is to have faith in you. To trust that you will return

To believe that no matter what takes place, it’s for me you yearn

So here I sit waiting for you, as a true hunter waiting on his prey would do

Patient, persistent, tenacious, relentless. I sit alone…waiting for you…


Galloping hearts racing against time

Sweat defying the laws of gravity

Lip gloss upon lips, upon face, upon chest

Eyes dancing, predicting the others next move

Hair pulled back, Ears guarding the door

Flames escaping through muffled moans

Bodies chasing the climax, yet needing the moment

Make it last, but be quick about it!


Ultra Mega Reading @ Bushwick Public Library!

Event time. There's going to be an awesome 4 Corners Reading of Fantastic Amazement at the Bushwick Public Library this Saturday, December 13 from 3-5 pm. Readers include poets Patrick Rosal, Emily Reardon, novelist Paul Rome, and me, Russell Jaffe, who you may remember from O Sweet Flowery Roses. Now, before I start blurring into territory, I'm not just propagandizing my own readings here(and I guess my secret, omniscient control of this site is all too apparent)...I was invited by *THE* Niina Pollari, OSFR alum and editor of At-Large Magazie, who you can meet live and in person! WOW! Here's the address:
340 Bushwick Ave. at Seigel St.
Brooklyn, NY 11206
Here's how to get there. Plus, our SECOND READING is coming up on Jan. 22, and if you want to read, email quick as a bunny because the spots are almost all filled. Be there or be shaped like this: There is no reason for anybody to be shaped like this. -Russell

Wednesday, December 3, 2008

O! Sweet! Comeback!

NEWS ALERTS: First of all, we humbly announce our SECOND READING X X X TRAVAGANZA. Same place as before in Williamsburg, but this time on Thursday, January 22. I will be tapping some old friends and well as requesting new ones for this upcoming reading. The lineup is already being compiled, so if you are interested, please email us and we will set you up. There's a full bar this time, too. 698 Flushing Ave. #1F (1 block from Flushing stop on JMZ, 2 from Flushing stop on G) Brooklyn, NYC Second of all: This awesome e-journal, run by multi-talented one man poetry onslaught Andrew Lundwall, publishes chapbooks of poetry, many of which are written by OSFR featured poets, including Juliet Cook, Brooklyn Copeland, Daniella Olszewska, and myself. Mine was released just a few days ago. Third, Third, Sylvia Plath style Third: I've been making a secret comeback after taking a month or so from writing anything, and even longer due to work, schedule, and a long, dejecting streak of rejections. But I urge everyone who reads and writes, established or no, to make your secret comeback public here on O Sweet Flowery Roses. Oh, and if you have some Sarah Palin poems lying around, why not air that laundry here? XOXO! Russell Jaffe Editor-in-Chief