The Homestead Review

I received an acceptance letter for a short fiction piece today. "Whiskey and Reds" is going to be published in The Homestead Review in Spring 2015.

http://old-www.hartnell.edu/homestead_review/

Really excited about this one. I haven't had too many fiction pieces accepted this year; the focus has been primarily on poetry. Consequently, I feel I really needed this little 'win' to round out my year. I'm one happy writing fiend.   :)


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Innisfree Poetry Journal

I received a rejection letter today from Innisfree Poetry Journal. It was my first attempt with this mag. I'll probably try again.   :)

http://www.authorme.com/innisfree.htm

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"Landmark"

Landmark


The structure remains,
weathered and beaten,
cracked at the base,
chipped around the edges.

The tour guide is vigilant,
including all pertinent
information, how many
were murdered, where the

bodies were buried.
Most in the group
assume he's embellishing,
study his deadpan face,

try to find a wry smile
in the darkened eyes. It
doesn't matter whether
he's exaggerating or not.

Stale sweat stains
the molten windows;
beams and boards
still smell of blood.




           ~~~

First published in Pyrokinection; Kind of a Hurricane Press

http://www.pyrokinection.com/2014/10/a-poem-by-cristine-gruber.html
October 15, 2014

Happy Thanksgiving! - Fourth and Final Anthology Publication for 2014

 

"Widow's Mite"

 

Published in Vending Machine-Poetry for Change, Volume 5

 

 

Fourth and final Anthology for 2014. My poem, “Widow’s Mite,” has been published in Vending Machine – Poetry for Change, Volume Five. This Anthology is published by The Poet’s Haven for the Poetic Provisions Food-Drive.

 

Theme: “You must be the change you wish to see in the world.” Mahatma Gandhi.

 

Donations collected during the Food-Drive go to the Canton Sunday Picnic and the Akron-Canton Regional Food bank in Ohio, two organizations that feed and care for the homeless and those in need in eight counties of the Akron-Canton Region.

 

I am so pleased that this poem was selected for inclusion. I literally emailed my submission a mere six minutes before the deadline cutoff. I assumed I was probably too late. I’m so happy I wasn’t. I’m honored to be included in such a worthwhile endeavor to feed and care for so many in need. 

 

Many thanks to the editors of The Poet’s Haven.

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

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Five Haiku / First published in High Coupe; Kind of a Hurricane Press

Five Haiku



Collins, Hass and Bly . . .
many nights spent in their worlds
drunk on wine


Around the table
sits the strength of worlds
teacups in small hands


Cerulean sky
silent and wondrous painting
broken by dove's wings


Bright constellations
form a nocturnal map
lead the cat back home


Barren winter sky
calling to the lonely sun
will it ever end




          ~~~

First published in High Coupe; Kind of a Hurricane Press

http://highcoupe.blogspot.com/2014/10/haiku-by-cristine-gruber.html

October 2, 2014

"Fighter"

Fighter    

 

Cool hand on the glass,
warm breath fogging the pane,
I watch you through a maze
of machines and monitors,

your tiny heart beating so fast,

trying to keep up in a world
you weren’t ready to enter.

The nurse says little boys

don’t fight as hard
as little girls to survive.
Not sure why that is; don’t care.

Before me lives a prize fighter,

a classic champion, ready
to throw a knockout punch,
all five and half pounds
settled in the swing.




            ~~~

First published in Eunoia Review

http://eunoiareview.wordpress.com/2014/07/14/fighter/

July 14, 2014

"Growth"

 

Growth  

                 For Victoria

 

Your hand rests

upon your belly, protective,
a shielding gesture all mothers recognize.

Shaking your head

at the offered beverage,
you turn instead to a bottle of water.

Moving slowly among the crowd,

you glide with care and grace, serene,
no fear of jostling the precious cargo you carry.

Smile unending,

your peace and joy are tangible
as you move from one guest to the next,

thinking you have kept your secret safe,

presuming no one knows the truth
that has yet to be spoken aloud,

but with each brush of your hand

across your midsection,
I see your smile grow.

One can only assume,

in another seven months or so,
you’ll be grinning from ear to ear.




                    ~~~

 

First published in print in Coffee-Ground Breakfast / March 2014

First published online in Whispers in the Wind -

http://whispersinthewind333.blogspot.com/2014/07/growth-by-cristine-gruber-united-states.html
July 04, 2014

"Capture" published today in Leaves of Ink

 

Capture

 

The room in the corner  

smells of fresh coffee and old books,
meticulously organized, yet surprisingly dusty.

The window at the end has no discernible view,

yet it’s where she stands to gather her inspiration.

The blinds hang crooked; the window is cracked.

The vent in the ceiling has been stuck since the 70s,
and the stains in the carpet have been present for decades.

An ancient Underwood graces the far corner,

while a modern Dell sits on the desk near the wall.

In summer, the room is suffocating; in winter, near-freezing.

But regardless of season, she’s most often found
sitting on the floor, cross-legged, pen and paper in hand,

capturing the moments as they’re caught by the tail,

then expertly committed to a wide-ruled notebook,

thus preventing their escape through the cracks that linger

between the crispness of an onionskin page,
and the sleekness of a liquid crystal display screen.




                                 ~~~

First published in Leaves of Ink

http://www.leaves-of-ink.com/2014/11/capture.html

November 23, 2014

"Artist"

 

Artist

            For Roman

 

 

The artist sits
in the corner booth,
head bowed, forehead furrowed.

His hand never stops moving
as the canvas comes to life
before his eyes.

All who walk past

marvel at his gift,
some placing a few coins

in the donation tin,

others offering
to buy him a cup of coffee.

He graciously accepts

the coffee, secretly wishing
someone would buy him a sandwich.




                   ~~~

First published in print in Kind of a Hurricane Press: Something's Brewing Anthology / April 03, 2014
http://www.amazon.com/Somethings-Brewing-A-J-Huffman/dp/1497342171/ref=pd_sim_b_3?ie=UTF8&refRID=0JRPY42ZJZ72WAE431PF

First published online in Foliate Oak Literary Magazine

http://www.foliateoak.com/cristine-a-gruber.html

May 02, 2014

"Cycle" (For Kevin A. Merino)

Cycle

 

                   “You’ve got the sun, you’ve got the moon, and you’ve got the Rolling Stones.”

                                                    Keith Richards  

 
                                      
                                                       For Kevin, the history teacher…

 

The moon hangs low

on its fishing line,
dangling at the end of a hook,

episodically close,

dressed in full ball gown,
designed to tempt the nightlife,

those unique souls

whom show themselves
but once a month, suddenly wakened,

celestially vibrant,

cyclically alive, unknowingly
salivating from the influence of the lunar bait.




                          ~~~

First published in print in Conceit Magazine / June 2014

First published online in Home Planet News

http://homeplanetnews.org/AHPNONL8.html
March 2014

Fragility 

 

How anything

is true
is so very fragile…
a moment of belief 
dangling over
a pool of uncertainty,
aided by
one careless qualm,
and the true
becomes
the fallen,
lost and drowning
beneath
the polished black
surface of doubt
and suspicion. 
 
 
 
 
      ~~~

 

First published in print in Shadow Poetry / February 2007

First published online in Miller's Pond Poetry Magazine

http://www.millerspondpoetry.com/index.php/issues/index.php?page=vol-17-web1#Cristine
January 04, 2014

"Grit" published in Floyd County Moonshine

My poem, "Grit," has been published in Floyd County Moonshine, Fall 2014/Issue 6.2 

http://www.floydcountymoonshine.org/

My author's copy arrived today. What a beautiful journal! I love it. Very grateful to the editor for giving this particular poem a home.

I'm attempting to attach some pictures. I love having my name listed on the back cover of a journal. It never gets old, seeing that word, "Contributors," and then seeing my name listed directly below.

Now unfortunately, my name is misspelled inside the journal, though they did spell it correctly on the back cover. Unfortunate, but it happens sometimes. Though I have a common enough name, I don't have the most common spelling of said-name, so mistakes happen on occasion. The editor was so incredibly gracious and apologetic about it though. So I just can't see expending the energy to be upset about it. I'm thrilled that my poem is published in such a beautiful journal.  :)

~~~

Grit

 

 

From the cracked window
in the corner of the garage,
(the partitioned section
turned room-for-rent)

she watches each day as

the construction takes place
across the street on the hill--
a growing monstrosity,

a massive home,

an unsightly mansion,
completely out of place
in the simple neighborhood.

Billowing clouds

of dirt and debris
find their way through
the cracks of the window,

the searing summer heat

making the intrusive dust
feel even more invasive,
near-suffocating.

A rag is used to wipe away

the collective filth
from the outer shell
of her broken life,

but she never

pauses to ponder
the growing damage
to the inside,

for there’s barely time

to clean the grime
before returning
for her second shift,

high hopes

and steely resolve
that the tips she’ll bring
will be enough to make the rent.


              
                  ~~~ 

"Vestige" published today in Whispers in the Wind

 

Vestige

 

 

He didn’t have much

in the way of mementos,

a bible that belonged

to his mama, a tobacco tin

that his daddy had used.

There were a few gifts

from his girls over the years,

and more recently, keepsakes

from the grandchildren too. 

He kept these things,

but rarely looked at them.

But once each autumn,

when the earth gleamed golden

for a time, just before turning

barren for yet another winter,

he would retrieve the small box

from the back of his closet, sit

for a spell, and re-read each card,

one by one, voicing each word,

reliving every moment.

 

 

 

 

                ~~~

 

 

 

 

First published in Whispers in the Wind

 http://whispersinthewind333.blogspot.com/2014/11/vestige-by-cristine-gruber-united-states.html

November 18, 2014

"Downturn"

 

Downturn  

 

Swathed in blue,
the weathered vessel
welcomes the heat
of the timeless blaze,

the fire creeping higher

up the sides of the pot,
staining the metal
deep unto its core.  

She stirs the boiling

soup, fingers gnarled,
thin and arthritic,
mere bone, scars

on both hands,

the wrists too, leathered
shell long since adjusted
to life’s heartless flame.

She ladles up the meal,

feeding the group well,
as amply as the current
recession will allow,

taking none for herself

until every member is fed.
She eats last, alone,
scraping the bottom

of the worn out pan,

keeping the flame
alive, eating directly
from the scalding metal,

burning her tongue,

welcoming the heat,
the tingling sensation
more than sufficient

to keep her warm

one more night
in the borrowed
surroundings,

more people

than blankets,
more bodies
than beds.




    ~~~

 

First published in Ancient Paths Literary Magazine

https://www.facebook.com/pages/Ancient-Paths-Literary-Magazine/124626725957?hc_location=timeline

July 02, 2014

Found  

 

This evening I found
the time I had lost,

those precious few hours

I so wished back.

They hadn’t traveled far,

just around the bend,

and indeed seemed happy

to find me as well.

They looked a bit older,

but no worse for wear,

having taken good care,

these past twenty years.

But when asked,

“Why now, what makes you return?”

The response was simple…

they’d never really left.




              ~~~

An earlier version of this poem was first published in print in Mother Earth International Journal / Spring 2007

First published online in Foliate Oak Literary Magazine

http://www.foliateoak.com/cristine-a-gruber.html 

May 02, 2014

Distinctive 

It was interesting to note
that the DVD collection
was not only perfectly lined up
but alphabetized as well. 

But it was another thing entirely

to notice that the spices in the kitchen
were likewise placed in alphabetical order,
in a long, thin rack, on both sides of the stove. 

There they were in matching uniforms

of clear glass with white lids,
all perfectly aligned,
labeled to declare their purpose. 

False appearance of the same packaging,

for all were different on the inside,
ranging from white to yellow, to red to brown to black.  
All labeled, yet all serving a different purpose.

Praise for the advantage of a clear container,

the ability to see through,
to perceive past the labels,
to bear witness to the inside.




                   ~~~

 

First published in print in Writer's Digest / April 2006

First published online in The Poet's Haven

http://www.poetshaven.com/?s=Cristine+A.+Gruber+ 

December 16, 2013

"Sated"

 

Sated

 

I hear him every

morning at 2:00am, another
restless soul who simply cannot sleep.

We both feed on the

nourishment we seek during
these quiet hours when normalcy sleeps.

He walks the halls,

pausing before every closed door,
listening for the steady sound of deep breathing,

souls lost in slumber,

before he moves on to his final
destination, his true middle of the night calling,

the hunk of ham in the refrigerator,

a tall glass of milk to wash it down.
My room being closest to the kitchen,

I hear the scrape of the silverware

against the porcelain of the plate.
Little does he know I’m awake as well,

feeding myself to fulfillment

in the privacy of my room, my feast
consisting first of a warm appetizer of Collins,

to be followed by an enticing

entrée of Laux, and then topped off
with a delectable dessert of both Kooser and Dunn,

a favorable feast indeed,

for I cannot rest until I am completely
sated, deliriously delighted, wondrously full. 

I would offer
to share my banquet
with he who walks the halls

looking for his own late-hour

nourishment, but I gather my meal
of choice would no more gratify him

then his would satisfy me.

Thus, finally ready to retire as the
clock approaches the three o’clock hour,

I hear my friend as he sighs

and ascends the stairs at last,
sufficiently sated, ready for repose.




                    ~~~

First published in Leaves of Ink 

 http://www.leaves-of-ink.com/search/label/Cristine%20A.%20Gruber

 May 13, 2014

"Warming" (Inspired by and Dedicated to - Kevin A. Merino)

 

Warming

 

An hour

before dawn,
so brittle and parched,

mother earth

like sandpaper
this dry winter morning.

Nature thirsts

in anguish before the sun
has even made her daily appearance.

There are those who would deny

the evidence of global warming,
though the signs are all around us,

giving fair warning,

screaming in near-agony from
the gasping throats of continuous drought.

The view

in the distance
a familiar one, and yet not…

still the middle of winter,

this third week in February,
not a white-capped mountain anywhere in sight.




                           ~~~ 

 First published in Full of Crow

http://www.fullofcrow.com/poetry/archives/cristine-a-gruber-april-2014/

April 22, 2014

"Reboot"

 

Reboot

 

Pessimism, like a pulsing drum,

beats a steady rhythm
along both temples.

The empathic one, absorbing

the pain, pulls it unto herself
with the power of a Dyson,

thus cleansing the room

of unnecessary debris,
protecting those who can’t

otherwise handle

the incessant pervasion
of negative information.

Permeation gone viral, she retreats

to recharge life’s battery, having long-since
mastered the process of shut-down and reboot.




                            ~~~ 

First published in The Write Place at the Write Time

http://www.thewriteplaceatthewritetime.org/poetry.html

September 22, 2014

"Lucidity"

 

Lucidity

 

Life’s rain has come again,

warmer this time,
but torrential in scope,

heavy and oppressive,

dark and near-endless,
a streaming veil to cover the light. 

No way to know

how long it will last,
unpredictable in nature,

erratic in intensity,

days of near-blackness
followed by mere moments of clarity. 




                    ~~~

First published in The Write Place at the Write Time

http://www.thewriteplaceatthewritetime.org/poetry.html

September 22, 2014