bluebat

fiction publication

2012-01-11T16:28:00.001-08:00

My story, The Softness of Her Throat was published by Wiley Writers, http://www.wilywriters.com/blog/
audio and text.

poetry

2012-01-02T12:55:00.000-08:00

According to a recent study, sixty-seven United States senators and nearly half of all members of Congress are millionaires. The median net worth of an American family is $20,500.
Politics pays better then poetry.

2011-12-01T18:39:00.000-08:00

Liquid Imagination published my poem, The Rodin Show. My 25th publication of the year.

publication

2011-11-06T13:07:00.000-08:00

Dark Metre published my poem, The Bigamist, today. A story of a werewolf with two wives.
http://www.katybennett.co.uk/currentissue.html

2011-10-19T18:40:00.000-07:00

Lorelei Signal published my poem, Beneath a Moonless Sky. The story of a woman's struggle to survive and protect her mutant children on an alien planet.

Lorelei Signal - Current Issue
www.loreleisignal.com..

three lines

2011-09-24T16:46:00.000-07:00

Three lines poetry published my poem.

2011-09-01T12:02:00.001-07:00

see my interview with Niteblade magazine on:http://www.niteblade.com/news/niteblade-contributor-interview-with-john-hayes

poetry publication

2011-09-01T11:52:00.001-07:00

Tales of the Talisman published my poem, Underground Seas.

Looking After the Dead

2011-07-01T15:09:00.000-07:00

Whitefish Review published my poem, Looking After the Dead.

Looking After the Dead
By John Hayes

Saturday morning while weeding the peonies
my father collapsed,
a mud-caked trowel in his hand.
We didn't know
until lunch time
when he didn't come to the table.

When we found his body
Aunt Tillie felt for a pulse,
"He'll be joining your mother now."
Pa wasn't a religious man
but Aunt Tillie wanted her preacher
to say a few words.

"He won't like that," I said.
"Pa didn't believe in God."
"Well, he does now," Aunt Tillie said.

I cleaned and polished his trowel
and after he was laid out
stuck it in his hand.

It was something I could do.

whoosh

2011-06-02T07:12:00.000-07:00

As our spaceship leaves the Milky Way
my robot companion calculates
and finds our destination
a mere
76,422,097,664,123 miles away,

He hastily suggests
we just have time enough
for a speedy game of chess.

Talk Show

2011-05-18T13:15:00.000-07:00

From his soapbox in Roosevelt Park
The preacher shouts for God
six people listen
walk away.
He curses them to hell.

God's work done
he decides to have a drink.

Earthwoman

2011-04-25T06:46:00.000-07:00

Mystic Signals 9 published my scifi poem, Earthwoman, a struggle to survive on an alien planet.

Earthwoman
by John Hayes

A wormhole away
from where she now lives
Earth spins in a wheel-shaped galaxy.

Trident sharp,
muscles rippling
Earthwoman's lover
stalks savory Polyodon.
Her mutant children gather roots
on rocky slopes nearby.

A lurking triclop springs
drags Earthwoman from her hearth.
She slams hot coal into mid-eye.
Triclop roars, drops her to the ground
grasps her leg as she seeks to crawl away.

Twin brothers race.
slug at the triclop's heels
with well-placed swipe of spiny tail
he sends them to their doom.

Twin sisters rush
to where their father hunts.
He entrusts to them caught Polyodons
grasps his halberd
and intercepts the triclop's lowly pace.

Triclop lunges
with a well-placed blow
he severs Earthwoman's lover's head.
Earthwoman grasps the halberd
and slices the Triclop's writhing neck.
She slits the carcass
rips liver to her mouth
chews as she completes the butchery.

Earthwoman bathes her sons with stony tears
entombs them with her lover in a rocky cleft.

She hums as she prepares a cache for triclop meats.
Her daughters flavor simmering Polyodons with triclop head.
Earthwoman will join them soon.
Begin new chores.

"Something by David Lynch," a poem

2011-04-03T10:08:00.000-07:00

My poem, "Something by David Lynch," appears in the June, 2011 issue of Dark Metre.

missions

2011-03-28T10:26:00.000-07:00

In what year did the primary mission of the medical industry change to the accumulation of wealth?

horror poem

2011-03-07T15:53:00.000-08:00

Dark Metre published my poem, After the Cosmologist's Death.

After the Cosmologist's Death
by John Hayes

A barren moon
gleams Earth's sky

reduced to ash
bones, muscle, flesh
rest quietly
in an amber urn

three pounds of grey
taken from an open skull
fondly placed in a mason jar
wait resurrection

amputated eyes
secure in a laboratory vault
stare into
their perpetual eclipse

preserved in freezer number 06
lungs, heart, liver,
vainly wait reticulation
with absent bones

a spinning rock
whirls about the sun

previously published in BareBone, 2006.

http://www.katybennett.co.uk/currentissue.html

2009-07-15T13:39:00.000-07:00

Famine Survivors

2009-04-19T09:43:00.000-07:00

Gutters
by John Hayes

Summer rains flood the gutters
of city streets
boys grab toy vessels
set sail in roaring seas.
Mouths solemn eyes alert
Kill the enemy!

Villains exterminated
heros generated on fantasy seas
cunning boys
masters of the battle
bored no more.

Words flood the minds.
Eliminate the evil.
Men maneuver giant ships in blustery seas.
Mouths solemn
eyes alert
Kill the enemy!

Ships blown
food for the sea
pawns of the battle
their cunning leaders
bored no more.

Previously published in:
San Fernando Poetry Journal
Melting Trees Review
Pegasus
Feather and Talon

After the Ball

2009-04-19T09:16:00.000-07:00

http://blackpetalsks.tripod.com/yellowmama/index.html

2009-04-14T13:01:00.000-07:00

The Summit
by John Hayes

The rocky path
leads up the mountain slope.
Where spring water gushes
I drop my staff
drink from cold cupped hands.

Refreshed, I resume my climb.
Summit reached, October’s wind curses in my ear
pierces dampened lungs and aching knees.
Clouds darken above my head.

My orange sweater with the green tortoise
planted on the front, drawn from backpack
offers little warmth as I pull it on.
Six mystic boulders beckon me
I take shelter in their spell.

My fingers probe red mountain dirt
sift it back to earth.
Clouds part
I taste the sapience of sun.

2007-10-12T18:40:00.001-07:00

Fertility

And death's body
feeds into the living
the nourishment of life.

2007-10-12T18:33:00.000-07:00

Lovers

Lovers lock on a moonlit lawn
chiggers feast till dawn