Tag Archives: Christmas

Happy Holidays-Let’s Get Under the Mistletoe, See What Happens…

Happy Holidays from your pirates and poets at Six Ft. Swells Press

Happy Holidays from your pirates and poets at Six Ft. Swells Press

We at Six Ft. Swells Press want to wish everyone many presents under the tree and much joy in the New Year.  Just because we are tried and true pirates does not mean we are above expressing our appreciation and gratitude to each of you for supporting us over the last year and many many moonlit evenings before that.  SFS ended the year on a high note; releasing Amber’s book and a poetry contest with a newly crowned poetry champion of the neons.  Our sincere thanks for that.  Whether it is buying our books, coming to our shows, liking and/or commenting on our posts, buying us a round, giving us a hug, sending a postcard, or just telling us you miss us, it means a lot and in lieu of actual dollars, gives us the goods to keep sailing.

Whether you are naughty or nice, near or far, on the beach, in the foothills, in the city or in the great north woods, keep sailing with us.  We can’t promise riches but we can promise poetry that will kick you in the sleigh bells, tremendous laughs, a shot and a beer (or nine), adventure, gibberish, a chance to fall in love, a discreet rebound, and a full and open heart.  Big waves are headed your way from Six Ft. Swells Press this coming year.  After all, the only time to get things done is right now, come hellfire or high-water and we are totally comfortable with both dear brothers and sisters.

Santa must be cutting through the sky at a whiplash pace because there are flashes of lightening high above and vague sounds of bells in the distance….whoops…scratch that, could have been the sound of the bottles we just knocked over… But you never know….it is christmas eve after all…

A toast to all of you, we will have a blue blue christmas without you,

Todd, Julie, and Matt (SFS Board of Directors, Publishers, Editors, Thieves, Poets, Pirates, Friends, Reasons for the Season, Two UnWise Men and One Wise Woman, New Years Babies, Sugar-Plums)

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Ride the Bull, Merry Christmas…

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Happy Happy Holidays—

May your next black out…be the one you remember most.  It is time to put on some Doors music and whip the horses eyes on this trip…This is where Six Ft. Swells Press truly shines…through the rose colored lens of our felonies and misdemeanors, illegitimate children and body doubles for world leaders…how wonderful to be such as we are…golden, eternal, tough, arrogant, untouchable and forceful.  This is the holiday message Six Ft. Swells brings to you…and isn’t it a lovely one?  full of funk and fucked up ness and blues and soul…man…that’s a good evening…..there comes a time when we have to sing…”this is the end…my only friend…the end…”  I like that.

For everything that has happened this year… the slipping on the side of goodness aint that bad…You are good and we are good…what can top that?  This is beauty and if it don’t turn out…oh well.  Truth be told…I was trying to find some Quicksilver Messager Service.  Anyway..Happy Holidaysetc. etc.  Listen to the MC5 and Son HouseThank you Dr. Cullen you put me on this wicked path.. thank you.  

In an effort to feature others that make our poetic hearts smile; I want to celebrate and acknowledge, a man who understands After Hours Poetry and taught me bullshit journal entry vs. substance…Ladies and Gentelmen…love him…touch him…feel him….John Cullen….

The Spark

 Ladies get in free and compete

for the grand prize if they ride the bull

wearing a bikini.  It’s Saturday night,

and every drink’s on special at the recreation

room behind the new arcade.

No one’s worked since Tri-Tool closed,

but The Spark’s lights brag twenty six

lanes with “imports on tap!”

The fifty dollar winner is the woman who strips

and sits the bull long enough to bounce her boobs.

Young guys stare and drink one buck draft.

Back on the lanes, a few guys bowl,

swapping frame for frame.  Teenagers roll free-hand.

They sight the head pin, then spin their balls, harder

and harder, hoping they can roll over average.

–John Cullen, Big Rapids, MI

Originally from upstate New York, where he attended SUNY Geneseo and later worked in the entertainment industry.   In the late 70’s he moved a hair west and ended up in Ohio for a few years, teaching at BGSU.  In the 80’s he moved to Michigan where for many years he has kept bees and taught at Ferris State University.   Currently he lives a bit further west, purchased a few horses to keep his dogs company, and continues to teach at Ferris.   His poetry has appeared recently in Grist, The Milo Review, Bicycle, and IthacaLit.   His chapbook Town Crazy won the 2013 Slipstream Chapbook contest and the title poem received a Pushcart nomination from Slipstream Press.      He can be contacted at cullenj@ferris.edu.

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