Still Standing
Two Images by Martins Deep. Martins Deep is a Nigerian poet & photographer. He is passionate about documenting muffled stories of the African experience in his poetry & visual art. Writing from Kaduna, or whichever place he finds himself, his creative juices tends to paint the spontaneity of his imagination, humanity, justice, truth & emotions, in different ways, bringing as much balm to as many wounds desperate for healing. His works have appeared, or are forthcoming on Barren Magazine, Writers Space Africa, Agbowó Magazine, The Ducor Review, The Shallow Tales Review, Omelette Magazine, The Lumiere Review, & elsewhere. He is also the brain behind Shotstoryz Photography and can be found on Twitter @martinsdeep1
In early July, we opened submissions for an issue entirely by and dedicated to Black writers and artists. We are so excited to bring you this issue! A very special thanks to Taylor Byas, our poetry guest editor, and Davon Loeb, our prose guest editor, whose statements are below:
"It was both an honor and a challenge to read over 200 poems for this issue and to choose only 15. There was an incredible amount of talent and vulnerability in our inbox, and there are so many pieces that didn’t make it into the issue that are still with me. But I’m really proud of this final product. The pieces in this issue are evidence of what happens when Black people live out loud, what happens when we are given the space to love, to grieve, to celebrate. Especially during a time like this, when the world insists on denying us humanity, these pieces take us by the chin and tell the world Look. You will see me. I won’t let you go until you do. So I invite you all to look. And keep looking the day after today, and the day after that, and the day after that." - Taylor Byas
“This issue is a celebration of Black voices, a celebration of Black writers who have always been here, whose stories has always been important and valuable. I am so proud to play a role in sharing this work with you. Each prose piece serves as an example of good storytelling—equally tuned to craft, to cadence, to an image, to a narrative that will linger, that will sting, that will swell your heart. Thank you to all the contributors, nationally and internationally, who submitted and trusted us with your writing.” - Davon Loeb
"It was both an honor and a challenge to read over 200 poems for this issue and to choose only 15. There was an incredible amount of talent and vulnerability in our inbox, and there are so many pieces that didn’t make it into the issue that are still with me. But I’m really proud of this final product. The pieces in this issue are evidence of what happens when Black people live out loud, what happens when we are given the space to love, to grieve, to celebrate. Especially during a time like this, when the world insists on denying us humanity, these pieces take us by the chin and tell the world Look. You will see me. I won’t let you go until you do. So I invite you all to look. And keep looking the day after today, and the day after that, and the day after that." - Taylor Byas
“This issue is a celebration of Black voices, a celebration of Black writers who have always been here, whose stories has always been important and valuable. I am so proud to play a role in sharing this work with you. Each prose piece serves as an example of good storytelling—equally tuned to craft, to cadence, to an image, to a narrative that will linger, that will sting, that will swell your heart. Thank you to all the contributors, nationally and internationally, who submitted and trusted us with your writing.” - Davon Loeb
Above: drickle, inspired by Every Single Night (from the Album The Ilder Wheel) by Vanessa Maki
vanessa maki is a blk queer writer, author & visual artist whose work has appeared or will appear in various places. She has self-published chapbooks & currently has 4 coming out or out in 2020: the chosen one (Animal Heart Press) , sweet like limes (Bone & Ink Press) & another final girl (Roaring Junior Press).
Poetry
At the Filling Station on San Pablo and 34th Ave by MJ Jones
Here Lies a Woman by Jenny Mitchell
WHY NOT STAY by Ojo Taiye
tiny little protests by Honora Ankong
when asked why Black people can't be racist by Matthew E. Henry
A Country of Worn-out Women by Dipe Jola
prayer by Hauwa Shauffii Nuhu
Red Line by Denise Nichole
notes i found in my cousin's diary by Chinua Ezenwa-Ohaeto
LOVE LANGUAGES by Levi Cain
The Storm Rages Outside My Home by Anointing Obuh
MY MOTHER'S GRAVE by Nome Emeka Patrick
I Come From by Starr Davis
Before the laughter by Mayowa Oyewale
I hold the earth at night in a field by Othuke Umkoro
Prose
For the Love of Gertrude Stein by K.B. Carle
Who Knows Why All Things Happen? by Miracle Oluchi Ozuem
Two Pieces by Ashley Elizabeth
Fresh Meat by Mycah Hazel
Don't Talk to Her, She's Black by J.B. Jemison
Queer Soul by Funmilayo Obasa
At the Filling Station on San Pablo and 34th Ave by MJ Jones
Here Lies a Woman by Jenny Mitchell
WHY NOT STAY by Ojo Taiye
tiny little protests by Honora Ankong
when asked why Black people can't be racist by Matthew E. Henry
A Country of Worn-out Women by Dipe Jola
prayer by Hauwa Shauffii Nuhu
Red Line by Denise Nichole
notes i found in my cousin's diary by Chinua Ezenwa-Ohaeto
LOVE LANGUAGES by Levi Cain
The Storm Rages Outside My Home by Anointing Obuh
MY MOTHER'S GRAVE by Nome Emeka Patrick
I Come From by Starr Davis
Before the laughter by Mayowa Oyewale
I hold the earth at night in a field by Othuke Umkoro
Prose
For the Love of Gertrude Stein by K.B. Carle
Who Knows Why All Things Happen? by Miracle Oluchi Ozuem
Two Pieces by Ashley Elizabeth
Fresh Meat by Mycah Hazel
Don't Talk to Her, She's Black by J.B. Jemison
Queer Soul by Funmilayo Obasa
Photo by Elijah Horton, New York born, Orlando FL based, freelance photographer and writer. Elijah started his photography journey in 2017, and his talent has grown rapidly as well as his passion. Since first being featured on Mieux Magazine for the 5th annual Mieux Magazine awards recap, Elijah has taken pictures for many local events, showcases, and has taken pictures for several Orlando artists.
Guest Editors
Guest Poetry Editor: Taylor Byas is a Black Chicago native currently living in Cincinnati, Ohio. She received both a Bachelor's Degree with Honors in English and a Masters in English, Creative Writing from the University of Alabama at Birmingham. She is now a second year PhD student and Yates scholar at the University of Cincinnati. Her work appears or is forthcoming in New Ohio Review, Borderlands Texas Poetry Review, Jellyfish Review, Hobart, Frontier Poetry, Pidgeonholes, and others. Find her on twitter @TaylorByas3.
Guest Prose Editor: Davon Loeb is the author of the lyrical memoir The In-Betweens (Everytime Press, 2018). He earned an MFA in Creative Writing from Rutgers-Camden, and he is a poetry editor at Bending Genres and a guest editor at Mineral Lit. Davon writes creative nonfiction and poetry. His work has been nominated for two Pushcart Prizes and one Best of the Net, and is forthcoming and featured in PANK Magazine, X-R-A-Y Magazine, Barren Magazine, Apiary Magazine, Split Lip Magazine, Harpoon Review, Tahoma Literary Review, Portland Review, and elsewhere. Besides writing, Davon is a high school English teacher, husband, and father in New Jersey. His work can be found here: http://davonloeb.com and on Twitter @LoebDavon.
Guest Prose Editor: Davon Loeb is the author of the lyrical memoir The In-Betweens (Everytime Press, 2018). He earned an MFA in Creative Writing from Rutgers-Camden, and he is a poetry editor at Bending Genres and a guest editor at Mineral Lit. Davon writes creative nonfiction and poetry. His work has been nominated for two Pushcart Prizes and one Best of the Net, and is forthcoming and featured in PANK Magazine, X-R-A-Y Magazine, Barren Magazine, Apiary Magazine, Split Lip Magazine, Harpoon Review, Tahoma Literary Review, Portland Review, and elsewhere. Besides writing, Davon is a high school English teacher, husband, and father in New Jersey. His work can be found here: http://davonloeb.com and on Twitter @LoebDavon.