The internet as a virtual museum: The Central California Poetry Journal

The Central California Poetry Journal

I regret to admit that it was only after reading a news report describing how family members and friends of the Pacific Gas & Electric Co. explosion victim, Jessica Morales, are using Facebook to share their shock and dismay that I began to fully recognize the value of the internet as a permanent digital repository for preserving the legacy of one's life. In light of this tragic incident, I've also been forced to reassess my hitherto smug and dismissive attitude toward the thousands of online literary journals that for any number of reasons have been largely abandoned by editors, writers, and readers alike. It's no longer convenient for me to categorize them as merely the virtual remains of poor quality websites whose perpetual anonymity is deserved. Although many are indeed half-hearted attempts whose naive and immature content are rightly to be cast aside, if not deleted entirely (arrogance be gone!), some are in fact veritable virtual environments where the work, passion, and history of once thriving subcultures and modes of expression can and should be accessed for inspiration and reflection.

One such site I feel worthy of repeat visits is Scott Galloway's The Central California Poetry Journal, an electronic subsidiary of Solo Publications. Officially run and maintained from 1996 to 2003, Galloway's journal offers a vibrant collection of nature poems focused on the topics and themes exclusive to the geography of, and issues facing, central California.

In appearance The Central California Poetry Journal is nothing more than Times New Roman font and a running index column providing a straightforward annual publication list of previously featured poets. Click on the name of any poet and the reader will be directed to a brief author bio followed by his or her selected works.

Galloway's online journal (influenced in large part by the poetry of Robinson Jeffers) is by no means comprehensive; rather, it gives readers unfamiliar with the region an introductory, albeit meaningful, inkling into how California's diverse geography can give shape to the poetry of those who've either visited or resided within her borders.

I was therefore pleasantly surprised to chance upon the poetry of fifth generation California native Melisande Luna, whose work is featured in the online journal's 2003 edition:

To Reap

On restless nights I've hammered north,
hooked I-5 towards the valley,
came screaming down the Grapevine;
where August's breath blew
warm and pungent,

reeking of earth and onions:
the scent of Lily's last gasp.
I remember the night her cornflower
eyes set with the stars --
as dusty palms crushed her lips.

Naked, she knelt in furrows
amid mute foliage and chittering
witnesses, who scuttled and chewed,
indifferent to a fast meal's fate.

Alabaster skin encrusted with clay,
her iron tincture blossomed in gullies,
bloodied the vagabond river's loam.

I went to reap memories
of Lily, in the deeply plowed rows,
where breath quit her tiny lungs.
I'd let my footsteps kick up clouds of silt,
puffs as brief as my sister's quick life.

The copper-bite of loss ripened
bitter among the onions,
where I harvested bumper crops.

Luna's word choice and use of imagery to depict the literal and figurative loss of her sister is accomplished with great subtlety and skill. The poet not only succeeds to couch the implication of human loss within the context of personal experience, but also to highlight and embed the contiguous, interdependent and inseparable bond our species shares with nature.

If you're interested in poetry specific to the geography it seeks to represent, and from which it draws its inspiration, then definitely take a moment to peruse The Central California Poetry Journal.

The perfection of simplicity: Blackbird

Blackbird

Regrettable and heartbreaking the aesthetic frill and technological fancy of those websites whose editors are more eager to unwrap the latest version of Adobe Dreamweaver than sustaining upon the arduous task of pursuing and establishing industry relationships that are essential to attracting the best writers, artists, and intellectuals for online publication. Furthermore, the obstacles that nascent online literary journals face in their attempt to surface from the depths of obscurity, especially when they do so without the aid of grants or at least some form of support from an academic institution, are such that a significant portion of my time is spent scouring through a virtual graveyard of long defunct online literary start-ups. Although a few of these abandoned sites are clumsy visual throwbacks to an earlier era in which blocky HTML graphics prevailed, many of these sites are in fact expertly constructed; for all my advocacy of novel web design, the success of, and the quality to be found in, Blackbird: an online journal of literature and the arts clearly proves that good content can still thrive among flashier competitors.

Blackbird is principally the product of the Department of English at Virginia Commonwealth University and the non-profit organization New Virginia Review, Inc. Additional editorial contributions include undergraduate and graduate students, community volunteers, and former alumni. It is because of this seemingly exhaustive willingness to collaborate that Blackbird has managed to cull an impressive list of literary and artistic talent. And I'm not one to flatter.

Although Blackbird's layout does not seek to thrill and stun, its six button navigational toolbar and attendant sidebar menu will never leave readers either wanting or confused: genre categories are distinctly visible, author bios are easily accessible, and a list of works published, either from a current issue or from the archives, is conveniently located regardless of the page viewers may happen to stumble upon. Works featured ranges from poetry, fiction, non-fiction, essays, and streaming audio and video submissions.

Given the popularity of documentary films, the growing trend of video essays among online literary journals is an obvious extension; video essays as a relatively new sub genre offer a wonderful blend of narrative and imagery whose range of innovative possibilities remain largely unexplored.

Take for example one of Blackbird's Spring 2010 feature contributors, John Bresland, whose video essay Mangoes was shot and edited almost entirely using an iPhone. Although Bresland expresses regret in not having utilized advanced video and editing equipment, the transitions, sequences, and narrative dubbing are perfectly suited to the overall tone and mood of his essay: an understated comedic exploration of the unintended consequences of modern conveniences upon the modern family, in which Bresland discusses his initial distaste, reluctance, and eventual acceptance of using a papoose to carry around his infant son.

In closing, Blackbird's published content is consistently strong; also check out Hal Crowther's essay In Defense of Straight-Chuters, in which he emphasizes the importance of confronting life in all its gruesome peril and import, and Dilruba Ahmed's poem Qawwali, a free versed implication of an unrequited form of Sufi prayer on behalf of the world's afflicted and downtrodden.