submissions for the frei art cooperative

we are looking for submissions: poetry, short stories, articles!   if you are an indie artist we would love to hear from you!

we have several projects going on right now.

the contritions of the phoenix zine that focuses on indie art (visual, written, musical) and social commentary that sheds light on classism, queer related issues,the environment, sexism as well as global events.  we also like jokes-a lot of jokes.

wild flowers for eric is a zine that focuses on mental illness.  we are looking for stories, art, music that brings mental illnesses to the forefront in order to help people understand the struggle of living with mental illness, loving someone who has a mental illness and hopefully how to navigate through society to find help.  all the proceeds will be going to a family who lost a husband/father to suicide.

and the topic is…a panel of individuals from varying backgrounds all presenting their side of a different queer related topic every month.

we want to present a wide variety of artists!  if you have art, stories, articles, rants, reviews, comics, music, etc that you would like to submit please email thefreiartcooperative@gmail.com 

thanks-grace

lover

shake your hips

like a river

lapping waves

on my flesh

spin

twirl

open up

sweet goddess

let me drink you

like fresh rain

twist and turn

dance and laugh

sparkles fly out of your mouth

like shooting stars

in the daytime

ecstasy encapsulated

you are the birth of venus

dan

he was sitting on a bench

just outside the sliding glass door

haggard

bent

drooped

chain smoking

emotional genitalia hanging out

on display for everyone to mock

he didn’t give a shit anymore

he grew up in ohio

where no one smiled

his big escape came in the mail

“You are hereby ordered for introduction into the Armed Forces of the United States and to report to”

to the sunny beaches of california

to the sunny beaches of vietnam

there weren’t no goddamn parades

nobody celebrates

a professional baby killer

and that’s who he was

and that’s who he is

hungry

tired

invisible

knees bowed under the weight

of his reflection

he ain’t sure about anything

except

he ain’t ever going back to ohio

 

park ‘n sons

shadows of the past

demons twitching twisted thoughts

internal torment and writhing

feet fighting against nothing

panic fear dread

the darkness fills up my peripheral vision

emotions boxed up

no attachment to action

no happiness

no sadness

no excitement

the only thing left is survival

trapped in trepidation

frenzied fight or flight complex

but the veil is up

hiding the rational, explainable, traceable

leaving  the mirage of a human

rigid arms

legs shaking

eyes set deep

smiling flat

childish understanding

fucked up thought patterns

seismic tremors through the shell of flesh

horror of the glances

breathing in consternation

as the dopamine deficiency dance continues

that one kid over there

the scars on forearms

shimmering under the fluorescent lights

shining bright scarlet

illuminating white

with each gasp for air

eyes rolled back

tormented ecstasy

insanity is the only safe place

for tongues twisted and forked

lies on lies on lies on lies on lies

legos and lincoln logs

playing jenga through the window

the aftermath of the afternoon

when the monsters come out to dance

to the wailing and screaming

your voice is their heartbeat

whispers to gods

foreign and unknown

they don’t dwell with you

in the hovel of inhumanity

hold the gospels in your thoughts

pray for a salvation

the cynical ghosts your only tie to laughter

where you are, dear child, is nowhere

in the quiet the demons cackle

in the tranquil the liars prowl

in the zen reliving rape and pillage

in the calm the evil crawls

sweet dreams

sleep tight

hope to never see daylight