Tag: Poetry

Welcome To The Splinter Generation Blog

Welcome, everyone, to the new Splinter Generation blog. Here at Splinter, we want to find the best new literary and artistic minds out there, voices that can define who we Splinters (otherwise called millennials) are, and we’ve spent the last few years going through submissions and finding some really, really excellent work (and getting so many submissions we had to turn some of it down, even!)

And now, we’re starting a blog.

We’ll be posting links and random musings about our generation and fiction and poetry and nonfiction and music and art. We’re gonna have fun with it and we’re gonna nerd it up and it will be spectacular. We’re going to cull the Internet for things you’ll be interested in, and we’ll also, hopefully, be able to talk about ideas that are important to our generation and to literature and to art in a less formal way here.

But that’s not it. We also want this blog to start conversations. That’s one of the things Splinter is about: we want to get people who aren’t talking to each other to start talking to each other. So we encourage comments, and we want to hear from you about what it means to be a part of this generation. If you feel like a story needs to be told, or if you have a generational rant that isn’t necessarily literary but you want your opinion voiced, you can email us at splinterblog (at) gmail (dot) com and we’ll post some of your thoughts as we get them.

We’ll be here a couple times a week! Check in often. x

December

Poetry by Kristine Ong Muslim

This cold has taught me
about the nature of souls.

Although I have known
a long time ago that the body
is meant to be a sieve for

Cormorant Complicate

Poetry by Talia Reed

at 5:30 in the afternoon she fumbled out of the dark bedroom,

into a kitchen.
an example of highly unusual fauna.

she googled the word kerosene…

Maps

Poetry by Diego Báez

What besides the white roofs of school buses,
powder blue power plants alongside oxbow lakes,

unmanned aircraft and empty envelopes?

Purple martins in the smoke of Blue Ridge

Baby Eater

Poetry by Sharon Cicilian

Over Easter brunch her mother-in-law inquired,
Why haven’t you given me any grandbabies yet?
The eyes of her in-laws fixated on her. She smiled,

Q&A with Featured Poet Lisa McCool-Grime

“I wish that my relationship to my poetry was all skinny dipping and swashbuckling,”

“I’ve been amazed at how willing the Muse is to squeeze into a new mother’s chaotic schedule. There’s no time to sit around waiting for her arrival.”

“I would like my art at its core to be a statement of faith: faith in my own artistic impulses and faith in the capacity of humans to honor expressed creativity.”

Ex-Sleazy-Nasties

Poetry by Robert Lamirande

The dashboard thermostat hits 101°,
and while this heat wave is nothing new,
lately it’s got people talking. For instance,
when I brush my teeth, my gums won’t stop bleeding;

Little Red’s Ride

Poetry by Kate Durbin

Spring-stink, the world heaves with lust.
Mother sniffs sex from the kitchen window:

Woodsmen stripping trees,
Housewives mounting stallions.

Ferns

A poem by Cara Dorris

School taught you they’re sad plants,
the only tissued ones
to never seed or flower,
never bloom.

Rooming with Your Bones

A poem by Heather Gustine

When they asked at the post office what you wanted
with a skeleton, you said you were studying
the human form. When they said, What?
The girlfriend’s not enough? you laughed,
and now request that I take care of it