Issue 2: The Velocity of Night (Jan-Feb 2015) is an unthemed issue featuring poetry, prose, videos, and artwork from writers and artists around the world.
Tales of the Forest — Michele S. Cornelius
Big Red Hands — Howie Good
nail art — Angelee Deodhar
The Convert — Marie Craven
my shadow — Chen-ou Liu
hibiscus and jasmine — Marianne Paul
Bend Back and Sigh — Pamela Sayers
A Walk on the Tame Side — Vivienne Blake
Leave-taking — Dave Bonta
she’s here — Angie Werren
Day’s End — Shloka Shankar
Burn Job — Lawrence Elliott
No One’s Home — Michele S. Cornelius
a thread of scarlet — N. S.
night jasmine — Laura Williams
motionless — Shloka Shankar
A Poem by Cardboard Suitcase — S.Eta Grubešić
Spiders — Carolyn Guinzio
Rise Above — Michele S. Cornelius
silver birch — Caroline Skanne
all your broken promises — Olivier Schopfer
Some Notes toward an Ode to Yarn — Sherry Chandler
Love Tortures Me Like the CIA — Howie Good
riding pillion — Debbie Strange
Winter’s Music — Margo Roby
Wintry Seascape — Massimo Soranzio
grackles — Angie Werren
Yellow — Sherry Chandler
It seemed a funny thing to have a “winter issue” when some of Gnarled Oak’s contributors and readers are in the midst of summer. Weird too, since here in Austin, winter isn’t so much a season as a collection of random days interspersed between December and February. So this is now Issue 2: The Velocity of Night, the title from Debbie Strange’s “riding pillion” with Michele S. Cornelius’s “No One’s Home” on the cover.
What is the velocity of night anyway? How fast the sky darkens is determined by season and latitude. But there’s more there. Fast or slow, it can come with joy or sorrow, anticipation or apprehension, and it seems all that can be found in this issue. Though unthemed, themes emerged: homes in transition, leaving and returning; love with its beginnings and endings; and, of course, the way winter shifts to spring (and back again as it’s doing here today).
I’m happy with the way this issue came together, the diversity of the work—poetry, prose, videos, artwork—and voices from all around the world made this especially fun. I can get lost staring at a map, and it’s exciting to me to be able to present work from so many writers and artists representing so many corners of this little blue world.
And so, sincerest thanks to all who allowed me the honor and privilege of publishing their work, all who submitted work to Gnarled Oak, and everyone who read and helped to share the wonderful writing and artwork found in this issue.
With gratitude and thanks,
James Brush, editor