stars – Cajun Mutt Press

Cajun Mutt Press Featured Writer 05/08/24

May 8, 2024May 8, 2024 James D. Casey IV

Nature’s Symphony

It’s 3:33 am,
All I hear is whistling tree frogs
And the soothing hum
Of my oscillating fan.
I’m left wondering about the universe,
How it began,
Our use of language
And the origins of man.
My overactive mind grabs me,
Yanking me out of bed
I pace to the fridge,
I pour a glass of water
And the hobs clock
Paints it red.
I peer outside my window,
The moon shining bright,
The white orb wears a halo
And lights up the night.
I hear the leaves brush against the trees,
Orchestrating nature’s symphony.
Then I wonder…
Where does the wind start
And where does it end?
The truth lies in the stars
But we won’t know
Until the stars fall.

Rhys Campbell was born Bermudian and grew up in Cardiff, Wales – which moulded him into the person he is today. Self-taught, he started writing for himself at the tender age of 14.

Rhys often conveys his poetry within the verbalised art form that is spoken word; you can find his work on all major streaming platforms, usually complemented with ambient instrumentals to further ensure the impact of the narratives illustrated. In his free time he writes for a variety of bands and artists throughout an array of genres.

@rhysc.campbell

Cajun Mutt Press Featured Writer 04/12/24

April 12, 2024 James D. Casey IV

Fused in openness

When the window opens,
we’re knifed by the breaths awaited.
When we do fieldwork much,
metal seeds fall from a cockpit
of some unprecedented hearts.
Good to know, I grow in the sayings –
day and night and daylight and moonlight
grown in my body.
That’s how I hear one wanting another.
That’s how, those blues and browns
and reds and beiges, reach dismembered
from the dry, mouthy sands
fused from us.
One more phrase, and the levering novel
shows how we are successful because
we’re complete in the space.
Too short to run, but legs and length originally
born to reshape trilling lights all along.
Too long, because we walk through
only stars after stars after stars
through breathing of love.

In the quantum of love

In a paperpiece of nonchalance,
I write spot, spot, spot.
Untorn, it shows the curious bookmark’s
anomalous track-record.
A page re-returns after all the pages
turned over, a matter of thousands of beats
sharded through the notepad of your heart.
Do you call it a petition of a repetition?
Let’s say you’re lengthened to a baboonery, –
you better count for a reachable number, –
your award of being Mortal, Sexy, Apostle,
Committal, Epistemological – additionally,
what kept for you in the hidden lulu.
In a paperpiece found flipping, I found
a piece of readiness desperate to be nothing,
gabbling for a vacuous dome.
It’s only the absolute, flowering a convolution.
Only an abstractedness, meaning:
a spot turning a star as all the unknown
spaces are created and decimated
in the quantum of love.

Jayanta Bhaumik is from esoteric field and counselling, and works in India and Singapore. His past works can be found in Poetry Superhighway, Juked, Blue Lake Review, Madswirl (their contributing poet), Vita Brevis Press, Cajun Mutt Press, Bindweed Magazine (Online Back Issues Anthologies / March 2020), Streetcake Magazine, Acropolis Journal, Lothlorien Poetry Journal, and elsewhere. He is available @BhaumikJayanta

Cajun Mutt Press Featured Writer 02/12/24

February 12, 2024 James D. Casey IV

The Man Who Is A Planet

He is the man who is a planet, orbiting
whichever stars are blind enough to never see
his sinister attempts to steal their gravity—
a shadow of a shadow is a truer thing
than stolen rays he boasts are his authentic light,—
reflections from the stellar entities he vamps;
I know that if he ever found Aladdin’s lamp,
three wishes wouldn’t fulfill half his appetites.

I let him join my band & be our lead guitar,
although I sensed his tenure wouldn’t last much time;—
he told me honestly, he thought we’d surpass KISS,
& that, after some show, a man smoking cigars
would magically appear & beg for us to sign
a million-dollar deal, as if those still exist.

G.M.H. Thompson recently bought a Gibson Les Paul for 13,500,000 Dong, so I guess you could say things are getting pretty serious. You should totally buy this right now: https://www.amazon.com/Quetzalcoatl-G-M-H-Thompson/dp/B0CH2CXSM7

Cajun Mutt Press Featured Writer 11/17/23

November 17, 2023 James D. Casey IV

Teenage Diplomats

we slouch the hood of your shitty Sentra to get closer to the stars
listening to Manfred Mann’s Earth Band on WZOZ
Jason says he’s fishing but he’s just using carp as target practice
still bitching about how I slept with his sister at New Paltz
seduced her when I asked for a pen in Intro to Philosophy
I tell him it was the easiest way I could fuck him
and then you turn to me and say
I want to fuck Jason too, so we
spend the night blinded in the moonlight
shooting fish in a barrel

Damon Hubbs is the author of three chapbooks: Coin Doors & Empires (Alien Buddha Press), The Day Sharks Walk on Land (Alien Buddha Press), and Fly Creek (forthcoming from Naked Cat Publishing). His poems have been featured in Lothlorien Poetry Journal, Roi Fainéant Press, Otoliths, APOCALYPSE CONFIDENTIAL, Does It Have Pockets, and elsewhere. He lives in New England.
Twitter: @damon_hubbs

Cajun Mutt Press Featured Writer 09/04/23

September 4, 2023 James D. Casey IV

Check out Brother Dan’s permanent AD spots on CMP!

Writer Page
Actor Page

Daniel S. Irwin was born, raised, and is back in town at Sparta, Illinois. His card reads: Artist, Actor, Writer, Soldier, Scholar, Priest. He has won awards for his art, acting (over 100 films and 30+ stage productions), writing (nine books and work published in over one hundred magazines and journals world-wide), retired military (Air Force and Army), graduate of Southern Illinois University/Carbondale and has attended four other universities), and is an ordained Dudeist priest with a Ph.D. in Divinity (not bad for a heathen). Once worked as a medic in an institution for the criminally insane…but didn’t notice anything strange about the inmates. Latest on-line work can be found on Horror, Sleaze, Trash Magazine and Beatnik Cowboy. He would love to move back to Europe but fears the plague.