Annie Neugebauer

Today is the last day of April; can you believe it? This month flew by for me! I didn’t get to read as much poetry as I wanted, but I did draft several new poems, and of course I’ve been sharing one reprint a week here on the blog. Before I close out the month with today’s choice, here are the links to the first four, in case you missed any:

• The Mountains Do Not Call Me <– nature/life
• If, Indeed <– grammar humor sonnet (I know)
• The Comedian <– horror
• Texas Rain <– nature/life

Let’s wrap things up with another horror poem. “Thirst” was first published in the HWA Poetry Showcase Volume 5 by the Horror Writers Association. Now here it is below, free for you to enjoy!

Thirst

I want thirst.

I long to feel the dusty,
gritty dryness of need—
the sticky, viscosity of bare—
the aching muscle-tightness of thirsty.

I wish I could only dream
of liquids.
Of cool, refreshing splash—
of hot, invigorating gulp—
of tepid but satisfying swallow.

If only I were dying of it.

Anything other than what I have now—
this thick, moist lapping
against your skin
as I drink. As I sup. As I drain
you like an easy goblet on a windowsill
in summer,
liquid sweat collecting
against my fingers
until you’re empty.

I am not thirsty
                              anymore.

© Annie Neugebauer, 2018

Thanks so much to everyone who celebrated National Poetry Month with me! I really appreciate your reading, subscribing, commenting, and sharing. I hope you’ve had a wonderful April.

We’re in week 4 out 5 of National Poetry Month, which means it’s time to share another poem. This one, “The Mountains Do Not Call Me,” won second place in the Wyopoets Award and was subsequently published in Encore 2018, the prize anthology of The National Federation of State Poetry Societies. (Last week’s poem was published in this same volume, along with a third poem of mine, so you’ll get a three-for if you want to order yourself a copy–not to mention great poems by many other poets!) 

In reading it now, my first thought was that I’d pay a lot of money to be in the mountains again right now. Then I realized that’s exactly how I would get to the mountains right now, and that, unfortunately, reality doesn’t always match up with brain declarations. 😉 Ah, well, at least I can read this poem (and look at this picture my husband took) and go back there. I hope it brings you something good too.

The Mountains Do Not Call Me

It breaks my poet’s heart to say it,
but the mountains do not call me.
I see that here, now, as I look,
praise, salute. “Hello again, you.
My soul’s been waiting,”
and they do not answer.
That’s when I see
that a poet’s tendency
to romanticize is a weapon–
no, scratch that–a veil
obfuscating the truth.
What makes the mountains
the mountains is that they do not call.
They do not sing or bow or dance.
They do not breathe,
indeed, they do not even wait.
The deeper truth is that the mountains
are,
and there is my lesson,
impersonal, stalwart, deep and high
and brave–no, not brave–there I go again–
true.
The mountains do not call me;
I am called to them
and in their shadows
I can be
a thing that calls and dances
and breathes and waits
and tries to learn.
In their presence
I can be.

© Annie Neugebauer, 2016

More poetry.

What’s that you say?

MOAR POETRY!

You got it! In my continuing celebration of National Poetry Month, today I’m reprinting my punny Shakespearean sonnet about the subjunctive, because I am a dork. (Those of you who’ve been with me for a long time might remember how much I love sonnets! And grammar, for that matter. And grammar humor, come to think of it. I’m beginning to think this poem was inevitable.)

This little weirdo has somehow placed 2nd in the Poetry Society of Texas contests (2016) and 3rd in the National Federation of State Poetry Societies contests (2018), because, apparently, all those folks are dorks too. It was subsequently published in the NFSPS prize anthology Encore, and now here it is for you dorks. 😀 Enjoy!

If, Indeed

If all the world should poll grammarians
about the need for the subjunctive tense
and they decided we’re barbarians
whose use for it we shall henceforth dispense,

the people by and large would likely shrug.
The elderly would simply shake their heads.
The middle-aged with smiles rather smug
would claim the thing already had been dead.

The teens would ask what was it anyway,
and kids would hear the slogans shift to past.
The teachers, grateful of the extra day,
would dare adjust their lesson plans quite fast.

If all the world this ordinance were borne,
the poets, still, the poets—how we’d mourn.

© Annie Neugebauer, 2013

Just a quick reminder before you go: Year’s Best Hardcore Horror Volume 4 by Red Room Press is out TODAY! It includes my creepy story “Cilantro.” You can order yourself a copy now! And if hardcore horror isn’t really your thing, you can still get my story “Cilantro” in its original home, Fire: Demons, Dragons and Djinn by Tyche Books, which leans less horror and more fantasy, but they’re both great anthologies!

Thanks, and have a wonderful week!

To celebrate National Poetry Month, I’m sharing a poem a week here on my blog. (Check out “Texas Rain” if you missed last week’s!) But before I get to this week’s poem–a creepy little thing–I wanted to make sure you’ve heard about my most recent news. I’ve just had two stories come out, available for you to read now!

“What Throat,” is an eerie short story that plays with sound and mimicry, which is perfect since it was produced by Pseudopod for Artemis Rising 5, meaning you can listen to it performed by some kickass narrators! I think they did a phenomenal job bringing my story to life. I hope you’ll take time to listen on your next commute, laundry day, or long walk! (Bonus points for sitting down in the dark to really savor it!) I love that this one’s available free, too, so no ordering necessary. (Although subscriptions are how awesome publications like this survive and pay authors like me, so if you like what you hear, please do consider supporting the ‘Pod!) If audio isn’t your thing, the full text of the story is available at the link above as well; just scroll down below the show notes.

I’ve also had my longest story to date published in The Shadow Booth Volume 3! (You might remember my story “That Which Never Comes” from Volume 1, but if you missed it, it’s still available for order.) “I Am” is technically a novelette, which is French for “more story to love.” 😉 It’s a weird, literary, experimental dip into existential horror, and I’m very, very proud of it. It also has the honor of closing out the collection, which is a first for me too! You can order it in digital on Amazon or in paperback from the publisher. A couple early reviews are already popping up, one of which has wonderful things to say about my story.

I have several more pieces coming out very soon, which you can always keep up to date with at the bottom of my publications page. And I’ll let you know here once they’re out! Now, onto the poetry.

“The Comedian” is an older poem of mine that I never reprinted here. It was first published in the magazine Infernal Ink back in July 2014 (Kindle version or print issue). And now here it is for you to read for free, because poetry doesn’t only have to be about nature, love, and wisdom. Enjoy!

The Comedian

His laughing eyes mock my terror.
He revels in his heinous game.
Oh so slowly he plays,
a character from nightmares,
to marvel at:
shudder.
Me frantically scurrying,
a tiny rat running through a maze,
I hide under the guillotine
and decapitate myself
with my own panicked dread.
The head bounces
like an empty thread spool,
and bumps the corner of the maze.
Ratty eyes look up
to see the evil player’s
wicked smile
caressing my fear.

© Annie Neugebauer, 2013

Happy National Poetry Month! American or no, April is a great time to celebrate poetry. 🙂 Don’t you all get spring fever around now? I do! All I want to do is frolic in meadows, have picnics, and read poems. Unfortunately, I’m working my tail off instead, trying to get my current round of revisions finished so I can go play.

But I’ll still make time for poetry! As a way of sharing some of my previously published work here, where you can read it for free, I’ll be posting one poem a week for the five weeks of National Poetry Month. If I get squirrelly, I might even do a vlog reading. 😉 (So if you want to get all five poems in your inbox, make sure you’re subscribed, and add annie@annieneugebauer.com to your approved senders to be sure you get my new posts.)

This week, I’ll kick things off with a little poem suitable for the season here in Tejas. “Texas Rain” was first published in the 2019 Texas Poetry Calendar by Kallisto Gaia Press. I hope you enjoy!

Texas Rain

I feel the exact moment
when still heat,
thick with honeysuckle,
gives way to fresh chill
smelling of rain
that hasn’t yet come.
Thunder
announces lightning
without pretension
and I swallow it all.
This life
far too thin
not to drink it down,
and me
never full.

© Annie Neugebauer, 2018