Recent and Upcoming Publications (Last updated 7/6/09)

~~~ Two of my stories were published at Postcard Shorts: Cuppa Joe and The Ransom. Check 'em out at: http://www.postcardshorts.com/index.html Follow the Story Index link to easily find them.


~~~ Three of my stories have been accepted for Flashshot: Invaders (July 3), Emergency Call (July 20), and Late Night Transactions (August 6). Subscribe at: http://www.gwthomas.org/flashshotindex.htm


~~~ My flash story 'The Hungry Ones' has been accepted for the January 2010 issue of Necrotic Tissue. Subscribe at: www.necrotictissue.com


~~~ My flash fiction story 'Whipped' has been accepted for the June issue of Niteblade: http://www.niteblade.com

~~~ My flash fiction story 'The First Ambassador' has been accepted for the 3/28/09 Flashes In The Dark: http://www.flashesinthedark.com

~~~ Three of my flash fiction stories were accepted for upcoming Flashshots and will be appearing soon:

~ March 1st: TEXT MESSAGE
~ March 25th: JUDGEMENT
~ April 12th: GODDESS OF THE SEA

Be sure to check out the Flashshots website and get your free subscription: http://www.gwthomas.org/flashshotindex.htm

~~~ Three of my cinquain poems will be appearing in Every Day Poets: 'Tribute to a Shel', 'Sub-zero Madonna', and 'Washed Overboard'. 'Tribute to a Shel' will be appearing April 22, other dates to be announced. Visit Every Day Poets at: http://www.everydaypoets.com

~~~ My flash fiction piece entitled 'Crimson Cravings' has been published at MicroHorror, http://www.microhorror.com/microhorror/author/paul-s-ingrassia/crimson-cravings/

~~~ My poem 'Civilization' appears in the February 2009 issue of The Little Black Book (Sketchbook), http://poetrywriting.org/Sketchbook0-0LittleBlackBook/Little_Black_Book__February_2009_Paul_Ingrassia_Little_Black_Book_Civilization.htm


~~~ ‘Lucid Dreaming’, a flash fiction piece, appears in Necrotic Tissue, January 2009 http://www.necrotictissue.com/issue005/0908820090101/Download.html


~~~ ‘blind doves’, ‘The Isle of Faith’, and ‘Awakening’, 3 poems, appear in joyful! January 2009, http://www.joyfulonline.net/poetry.htm My poems can be found in the Archive section for Poetry January 2009


~~~ ‘Remnant’, ‘My Love For You Is…’, and ‘On Mom’s Porch’, 3 cinquain poems, appear in Amaze: The Cinquain Journal, http://www.amaze-cinquain.com/Issue_16_6-no-2/ingrassia.html, Volume 6, No. 2, 2008

In Memoriam: Adelaide Crapsey (September 9, 1878–October 8, 1914)

Today marks 94 years since the beautiful flame known as Adelaide Crapsey was extinguished.

In her memory, I present four of her poems below from her book entitled Verse. I have also included a poem (which is a tribute to Adelaide) written by Carl Sandburg from his book Cornhuskers . Finally, there is a tribute poem by myself.

To learn more about Adelaide and her poetry visit the links listed in the sidebar of this blog.

Paul

~~~

Moon Shadows

Still as
On windless nights
The moon-cast shadows are,
So still will be my heart when I
Am dead.

~ Adelaide Crapsey

~~

Dirge

Never the nightingale,
Oh, my dear,
Never again the lark
Thou wilt hear;
Though dusk and the morning still
Tap at thy window-sill,
Though ever love call and call
Thou wilt not hear at all,
My dear, my dear.

~ Adelaide Crapsey

~~

On Seeing Weather Beaten Trees

Is it as plainly in our living shown,
By slant and twist, which way the wind has blown?

~ Adelaide Crapsey

~~

The Immortal Residue
Inscription for my verse

Wouldst thou find my ashes? Look
In the pages of my book;
And as these thy hand doth turn,
Know here is my funeral urn.

~ Adelaide Crapsey

~~~

Adelaide Crapsey

AMONG the bumble-bees in red-top hay, a freckled field of brown-eyed Susans dripping yellow leaves in July,
I read your heart in a book.

And your mouth of blue pansy—I know somewhere I have seen it rain-shattered.

And I have seen a woman with her head flung between her naked knees, and her head held there listening to the sea, the great naked sea shouldering a load of salt.

And the blue pansy mouth sang to the sea:
Mother of God, I’m so little a thing,
Let me sing longer,
Only a little longer.

And the sea shouldered its salt in long gray combers hauling new shapes on the beach sand.

~ Carl Sandburg

~~

Adelaide Crapsey

Whisper
of flame at dusk
twinkles on the lake's edge,
shadow-shrouded, frail - eternal
echoes.

~ Paul Ingrassia

(First Published in Amaze: The Cinquain Journal, Spring 2006 Issue. Awarded 4th place in first annual Adelaide Award, nominated for a Pushcart Prize in 2006. I was inspired by the photo at the top of this post.)

I Heard Her (Musings)

I heard it, the other day, disturbing and unnerving, the crying of the Earth. I heard Her after the dying trees screamed.

You can hear Her, too, if you listen. Listen to Her choking and coughing on the smog in Her lungs.

If you are still, you can feel Her. Feel Her weakening from the filth and sewage poisoning Her veins and arteries.

Try looking carefully, you can see Her. Watch Her mourn the loss of habitats and species, all in the name of progress and growth.

Take a deep breath, and smell Her. Smell Her dying in poured concrete and asphalt, and in the putrid stench of energy’s byproducts.

With every bite you can taste Her. You can taste her bitterness in the hormones and toxins pumped into her genetically altered children raised for slaughter.

Many justify raping our Mother and pillaging her resources. Survival of the fittest they say, it is all here for our wants and needs, and the Earth is meant to please us. Well you know, I think She agrees, the strong survive.

What species, do you think, will She replace Man with?


~ Paul 'The Mystic Fool' Ingrassia

Why? (Unpublished Short Story)

(Authors Note: I wrote this one when I first started seriously questioning religion, and in particular the Xtian concept of God. Paul)


"Adam?"
"Yes, Eve?"
"Do you ever think about God?"
"What is there to think about? He provides what we need: food, water, and a place to live. What more is there to wonder about?"
"Well, for one thing, why does He provide for us? I mean, doesn't He have better things to do than care for us?"
"We are His children, Eve. He loves us."
"But why, Adam? Why does He love us?"
Adam looked perplexed. "I guess I never thought about it before. I always just took it for granted."
"Think about it. This all-powerful being provides us with day, night, warmth, food, water, and everything else we need. Why doesn't He ask for anything in return?"
"I'm not sure, Eve," puzzled Adam. "I guess He feels a responsibility for us. We didn't ask to be here, He chose for us to be."
"Why do you think He wants us here?"
Adam scowled at her.
"I mean, what do you think our purpose is? Are we here to serve His desires, or to entertain Him? Or are we here to appreciate Him and His works?"
"I think it's more than that," answered Adam. "I think we are just a small part of His world, a tiny piece necessary to the success of the whole. We are meant to balance nature, perpetuate our species, and help fuel the ecosystem."
"But then, why do we have individuality? Mindless automatons could breed just as easily. For that matter, why would He have bothered to create an entire ecosystem? Wouldn't one species provided with all it needs be sufficient, and a whole lot easier to maintain?"
Adam, getting obviously annoyed, said, "Well, I don't know. Maybe He wasn't happy with something so simple as that. Maybe the complexity of it all is what He was after."
"Maybe He needs us so that He Himself can continue to exist. Maybe without us to honor Him, He would cease to exist."
"I doubt it. He has existed always, long before we came to be."
"I know that. But maybe there was a species before us that was disappearing, and He was at threat of ceasing to exist. Maybe He created us to perpetuate His own life."
"I really don't think so," said Adam, tiring of her questions. "Whatever His reasons, we are here. The best we can do is live a good life, treat others the way we ourselves wish to be treated, and love and honor Him. If you do that, you will join Him in heaven."
"So you think this is all just a test to get into heaven. Maybe we, I mean our souls, have always existed as well. Maybe we have gone through different lives, different steps on the way to heaven, constantly trying to meet the qualifications to get into His kingdom. Maybe we just haven't measured up yet."
"It's possible."
"But all this still doesn't answer why."
Suddenly, a shadow passed over them, and their surroundings began to vibrate.
"Quiet," whispered Adam. "He comes to provide water."
"Every time I see Him, I get so frightened," said Eve shakily.
The Provider lifted the screen top slightly off their tank. He pointed the spray bottle into their cage and gave it four or five pumps, thoroughly misting the right side of the tank with water.
"Hello," said the Provider in a booming voice that rocked the tank. "I have a special treat for you today: waxworms! I figured you might want a change from crickets." The Provider placed six thick, juicy larvae in the bottom of the tank. The pale gray creatures wriggled about in the sand. Eagerly, Adam leapt from his perch atop a plant, landing practically on top of the waxworms. He reared up on his forelegs like a medieval dragon poised to attack, and then struck his head at them. His head bobbed up, a wriggling worm extending from his mouth, and then he turned and jumped back to his perch next to Eve. Eve, and the Provider, watched Adam slowly swallow his feast. Another shadow then passed over the tank, and Eve looked up to see one of the Godlings.
"Daddy?" called the Godling.
"Yes, Ashley?" answered the Provider.
"Why do you like your lizards so much?" she asked.
"Well, Sweetie, they're my pets. I enjoy taking care of them. I have fun watching them, and I like talking to them. They make me happy, so I love them!"
"Kinda like me, Daddy?" she asked giggling.
"Yes, my little angel. Just like you," he answered as he scooped her up and kissed her. He then carried her away, both of them laughing.
Adam finished devouring his meal, and then looked at Eve. She seemed lost in thought.
"There you have it," he said.
"What?" she asked.
"We are here because we make Him happy," he answered smugly. "He loves us because we please Him."
Eve didn't seem satisfied with this.
"What's wrong?" asked Adam. "You got your answer, didn't you?"
"I suppose so," she said.
"So then what is it?"
"I guess I just hoped we were more than God's playthings," she answered sadly.
Adam rolled his eyes and then leapt for another worm.


~ Paul 'The Mystic _fool' Ingrassia

OZYMANDIAS

OZYMANDIAS

Percy Bysshe Shelley

I met a traveller from an antique land
Who said: Two vast and trunkless legs of stone
Stand in the desert. Near them on the sand,
Half sunk, a shatter'd visage lies, whose frown
And wrinkled lip and sneer of cold command
Tell that its sculptor well those passions read
Which yet survive, stamp'd on these lifeless things,
The hand that mock'd them and the heart that fed.
And on the pedestal these words appear:
"My name is Ozymandias, king of kings:
Look on my works, ye Mighty, and despair!"
Nothing beside remains: round the decay
Of that colossal wreck, boundless and bare,
The lone and level sands stretch far away.

~ ~ ~

OZYMANDIAS

or

On A Stupendous Leg of Granite, Discovered Standing by Itself in the Deserts of Egypt, with the Inscription Inserted Below

Horace Smith

In Egypt's sandy silence, all alone,
Stands a gigantic Leg, which far off throws
The only shadow that the Desert knows:
"I am great OZYMANDIAS," saith the stone,
"The King of Kings; this mighty City shows
"The wonders of my hand." The City's gone,
Nought but the Leg remaining to disclose
The site of this forgotten Babylon.
We wonder, and some Hunter may express
Wonder like ours, when thro' the wilderness
Where London stood, holding the Wolf in chace,
He meets some fragments huge, and stops to guess
What powerful but unrecorded race
Once dwelt in that annihilated place.

~ ~ ~

for info about these poems visit:
http://en.wikipedia.org/wiki/Ozymandias

Gary Gygax, creator of D&D, has passed away

http://www.abs-cbnnews.com/storypage.aspx?StoryId=111238

This is sad news for me. I started playing Dungeons & Dragons around 1979 (about 10 or 11 years old) with Holmes Blue Book Basic. I was a big fantasy fan, and a friend in elementary school introduced me to D&D, and it showed me a whole new world. I have played D&D and/or other RPGs pretty much ever since. Gary was as much an influence on my life as any other author I can think of, with one major exception: instead of supplying the story, he showed me how to create my own. His works helped teach me to stretch my creativity, and showed me my imagination could be boundless.

I pray for his safe journey in this final adventure, may the gods shower fortune upon him. Good-bye Gary Gygax, you will be sorely missed and fondly remembered.

In peace,
Paul 'The Mystic Fool' Ingrassia

Absente and the Breath of Bast (Previously Published Poem)

The blue moon glides slowly, lazily across the ebony sky. The melting sugar cube drips slowly, lazily through the strainer. The curl of smoke drifts slowly, lazily from my lips. The orange flame flickers slowly, lazily on the candle's wick. Twin green faeries dance slowly, lazily with me. My glistening spirit wanders slowly, lazily on its Astral pilgrimage. Isis and Osiris relive the story slowly, lazily in the Temple of Philae. Ancient felines crawl slowly, lazily across the dusty courtyards. The sacred scarab slowly, lazily pushes the ball across the sky. The lotus blossom grows slowly, lazily from the slimy pond floor. Herbal trance and licorice musings slowly, lazily escort me through arcana.

~ Paul 'The Mystic Fool' Ingrassia

(first published in Isis-Seshat Magazine # 1, February 2004)