News for 2017

Descent & Other Poems listed on Australian Book Review 2016 Books of the Year. On the ABR Website, if you scroll down about 3/4 of the way to Felicity Plunkett’s section, Timothy Ogene’s book is mentioned, with a link to the press blog: Nigerian-born Timothy Ogene’s Descent and Other Poems examines love, doubt, solitude and migration in attentive, luminous poems. Thank you Felicity Plunkett!  Descent & Other Poems is available on the site with free shipping in the US.

Other news: titles on the way for 2017. At this link three forthcoming titles and endorsements appear. The titles are: Combed by Crows by Dennis Camire; Kafka’s Shadow by Judith Skillman; Never Completely Awake by Martina R. Newberry.

Never Completely Awake by Martina R. Newberry



The Ozymandias Effect, poetry by Martina R. Newberry

The Ozymandias Effect, poetry by Martina R. Newberry

This poem is from the forthcoming new title Never Completely Awake, by Martina Reisz Newberry, due out in 2017 from Deerbrook Editions.

Read noteworthy endorsements for Martina’s books here on her site.

Never Completely Awake by Martina R. Newberry

Three Tankas, and what’s to come

Please consider picking up the newest books on the Website, Wars Don’t Happen Anymore by Sarah White, A Passing by Joan I. Siegel, and Beautiful Day by JR Solonche.

A passing  Middle of the Night by HC HsuBeautiful Day by JR Solonche

Wars Don't happen Anymore by Sarah White

In the works are at least two books of poetry; available now – Wars Don’t Happen Anymore  poems by Sarah White of N.Y. City; another called Once it Stops, poems by Florence Fogelin of Vermont due in summer; one book of fiction called Middle of the Night by HC HSu due later in the summer; and a book of tankas called A World Disguised As This One by Mimi White of New Hampshire; a new book os poems by Martin Steingesser called Yellow Horses will be out late July. Also very soon The Conversation: Learning to be a Poet by Dawn Potter. I know we’ve all been waiting for this one and you can find more about it here on the blog head.

Today I want to post a poem by Martina Reisz Newberry from her book Where it Goes called Three Tankas. 

Three Tankas by Martina Newberry

Three Tankas by Martina Newberry

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Fear’s Orphanage from Where it Goes

Read these poems. In Where it Goes Martina Reisz Newberry flips crackpot on its head, turning over clichés as inconsequence becomes an attribute. They put you in the street and in the heat where you have to choose between illegitimate and graceful existence, where even the brave walk the fine line between sanity and delusion. You’ll think of redefining norms and questioning values as only poetry can lead you to do. “With intense human vulnerability and wondrous irony,” said Anne Tammel, I believe this is Martina Newberry at her best.

Where it Goes, Fear's Orphange

Take a good look; waht do you see?


Martina Reisz Newberry’s most recent book is Where it Goes. She is also author of Learning by Rote(Deerbrook Editions 2012), What We Can’t Forgive, Late Night Radio, Perhaps You Could Breathe for Me, Hunger, After the Earthquake: Poems 1996-2006, Not Untrue & Not Unkind (Arabesques Press) and Running Like a Woman With Her Hair on Fire: Collected Poems, (Red Hen Press).

Ms. Newberry is the winner of i.e. magazine’s Editor’s Choice Poetry Chapbook Prize for 1998: An Apparent, Approachable Light. She is the also the author of Lima Beans and City Chicken: Memories of the Open Hearth —a memoir of her father—published by E.P. Dutton and Co. in 1989. She has written four novels and several books of poetry, has been included in Ascent Aspirations first hard-copy Anthology and has been widely published in literary magazines such as: Amelia, Ascent Aspirations, Bellingham Review, Blessed Are These Hands, Cape Rock, Connecticut Poetry Review, Haight Ashbury Literary Journal, i.e., Piedmont Literary Review, Southern Review of Poetry, Touchstone, Women’s Work, Yet Another Small Magazine, and others. She was granted three residencies at the following colonies: Yaddo Retreat for Artists, Djerassi Resident Artists Program, and the Anderson Center at Tower View-Red Wing, Minnesota.


You can read reviews and see some of the faces of the reviewers on Martina’s blog here.

A hint of things to come

Sad, deserted shore, your fickle friends are leaving

Ah, but then you know it’s time for them to go

But I will still be here, I have no thought of leaving

I do not count the time


For who knows where the time goes?

Who knows where the time goes?

—A.E.M. Denny


Where it Goes by Martina Reisz Newberry

Where it Goes features a photograph by Eleanor Bennett

This is the leading epigraph to Where it Goes by Martina Reisz Newberry’s new book of poems from Deerbrook Editions.

Albino Carillo said this about Where it Goes, “Startling and surreal, intoxicated with love and lust in its images and her characters, the book achieves a rare form of history from the inside . . .”

We think Where it Goes is an exceptional book and we want people to discover Martina because we think she is a wonderful writer. Discovery is the big word we see around the blogs, the big issue for indie writers and indie presses. So please read  these poems. Here is a preview of about one-third of the book. Tell someone about this writer. Please buy the book and help support our writers as well as the press. Maybe you can make a tax-deductible donation.

A fine poem from Where it Goes.


Mid-February Late At Night


Intimidated by the glass,
I reach to touch a near-full moon
suspended on a near-black string.
It strays across tonight as I
have wandered across blank paper,
decorum over and done with.
The strange bones of my hands find their
own way (hasn’t always been so).
Outdoors, the moon lights up the dirt,
hides behind clouds that start to spill
rain. The environment reeks of
failure and I, unmoved by its
intent, start to despise the rain.
I have stood in this place a long
time waiting for shame to produce
the wild, tender thoughts I’ve called up
in the past. Where is the book I’ve
not written? Where is the house and
the barn I saw when I slept then
wrote about when I woke? Where are
the lumbering animals that
will find their way back home and the
farm wife in her wrinkled jeans and
patterned apron? Maybe they’ve been
cast upward into God’s shadows.
I reach to touch a sky that has
filled my life with false promises.
The old olive tree looks so cold.
Soon it will be Spring: warm, blameless.



As always, deserving authors good books can be found at and thanks for visiting.