I’m pleased and happy to announce that my poem, “Nature’s Child,” has been selected as a finalist in the Arizona Authors Association 2022 Literary Contest. On November 5, 2022, the final winners will be announced. Either way, my poem will be published in the 2023 Arizona Literary Magazine. I don’t usually enter contests, but I was feeling confident and decided to take a chance.
Thanks for visiting!
Dawn Pisturino
September 13, 2022
Copyright 2022 Dawn Pisturino. All Rights Reserved.
I’m pleased and proud to announce that my poem, “Melissa and the Angels,” has been published today on Spillwords. I want to thank Dagmara K. and her wonderful staff for publishing it. I chose to use an unusual rhyming pattern and some words that are difficult to rhyme. It was these difficult words that shaped the story.
Melissa and the Angels
by Dawn Pisturino
Melissa, in a tattered dress,
Came slowly down the lane,
A wicker basket on her arm,
Fresh eggs and butter from the farm,
Her tresses in a tangled mess,
Barefoot, and limping with the pain. . .
Please visit Spillwords here http://www.spillwords.com/melissa-and-the-angels/ to read the rest of the poem. If you like it, please like it on both Spillwords (the little heart at the top of the post) and my blog. I can’t tell you how much I appreciate your visits and your support.
A big THANK YOU! from the bottom of my heart.
Dawn Pisturino
August 22, 2022
Copyright 2022 Dawn Pisturino. All Rights Reserved.
I’m pleased to announce that two of my stories have been published today – my flash fiction story, “Coffee,” is live now on Gobblers & Masticadores. My short story, “A Big Job,” is live now on Masticadores India. I want to thank J. Re Crivello, Manuela Timofte, and Terveen Gill for their support.
Coffee
“Coffee, please — a large macchiato with a double shot of expresso.”
The owner of the coffee bar shuddered and made a face. “I detest the stuff, myself, but . . . shhh,” she said, holding her finger to her lips,” don’t tell anybody. After all, I make my living selling the stuff.”
The man in front of the counter looked at her in dismay. “Not like coffee! Who doesn’t like coffee?” He turned toward the other customers in the shop. Waving his hand at the barista he said, “Have you ever heard of such nonsense? She says she hates coffee!”
Please visit Gobblers & Masticadores to read the rest of the story.
A Big Job
As Dmitri untied the rope around Dr. Morgan’s neck, his cellphone suddenly buzzed in his pocket. He reached into his suit jacket and pulled out the annoying thing. It always interrupted him at the most inopportune time.
“Daddy, you promised to come to my play. Where are you?”
Shit, Dmitri thought. He had forgotten all about it. He smiled into the phone. “No worries, my precious girl. Daddy’s on his way.”
Please visit Masticadores India to read the rest of the story.
Thank you very much!
[NOTE: I’ve been sick with a sinus infection for the last couple of days so I’m behind on responding to comments and visiting people’s sites. Thank you for your patience.]
Dawn Pisturino
August 5, 2022
Copyright 2022 Dawn Pisturino. All Rights Reserved.
I’m pleased and proud to announce that my poem, Boudica’s Soliloquy, has been accepted for publication in the upcoming Wounds I Healed: The Poetry of Strong Women anthology. I want to thank Gabriela Marie Milton (editor), Ingrid Wilson of Experiments in Fiction (publisher), and Nick Reeves for their hard work and dedication in bringing this project to fruition.
As you may have guessed, the poem is about Boudica, the fierce Celtic Queen of the Iceni tribe who reigned in the East Anglia region of Britain. In 60 C.E., she led a revolt against the Romans. Bravely driving a chariot against Roman forces, she fought for the liberation of her tribe and vengeance for the rape of her two daughters by Roman soldiers. Although defeated, she went down in history as a tragic figure and a British folk hero.
For some reason, when I heard about the anthology, Queen Boudica immediately popped into my head. She was a woman who lost everything but died with dignity and honor.
Please visit these sites:
Gabriela Marie Milton (Short Prose)
MasticadoresUSA//Gabriela Marie Milton, editor
Ingrid Wilson, Experiments in Fiction
Thank you!
Dawn Pisturino
May 9, 2022
Copyright 2022 Dawn Pisturino. All Rights Reserved.
Short Poems by Dawn Pisturino
Love Your Man
Love your man and love him well;
Give all you can and time will tell
The consequences, good or ill.
But love him still.
September 8, 1985
~
Attack on Libya
All around the terrorist camp
The monkey chased the weasel;
The monkey thought ’twas all in fun:
Pop! Goes the weasel.
A billion for the air raid,
A million for the missile;
That’s the way the money goes:
Pop! Goes the weasel.
April 16, 1986
(Based on the nursery song)
~
Sorrows
Sorrows come and sorrows go,
Pleasures last a day;
I know not why He made it so:
I wish it were the other way!
May 3, 1986
~
The Airplane
I looked into the big, big sky
And watched an airplane passing by;
I was too small for him to see,
And so he never noticed me.
May 3, 1986
~
Thanks for visiting and reading my poems!
Dawn Pisturino
April 27, 2022
Copyright 1985-2022 Dawn Pisturino. All Rights Reserved.
Springtime
by Dawn Pisturino
Springtime struggles to survive
The clasping arms of winter,
Stirring up the honey-hive
And bringing forth the flower.
She hastens to restore the sun:
The melting snows recede;
And when the sap begins to run,
The worm returns to feed.
A flock of sparrows in the sky;
A big, red-breasted robin
Perched to catch a passing fly,
His little heart a-throbbin’.
Daffodils with yellow heads
Bobbing in a row;
Rich brown fields and grassy beds
Waiting for the plow.
Winter, dying in the wake
Of Springtime’s warmer rain,
Thaws the river and the lake
And disappears again.
February 21, 1986
Published in World of Poetry Anthology, 1987 and Best New Poets of 1988.
Copyright 1986 – 2022 Dawn Pisturino. All Rights Reserved.
by Dawn Pisturino
May I never lose the Joy of Christmas,
Though my Tree of Life grows withered and rots,
Standing stark and gaunt in the cold winter light:
Please, Lord, may I never lose the Joy of Christmas.
May I never lose the Love of Christmas,
Though my heart grows feeble and weak,
Beating like a broken drum in my chest:
Please, Lord, may I never lose the Love of Christmas.
May I never lose the Meaning of Christmas,
Though the shadow of Death hovers over me,
Drawing farther away from the Circle of Life:
Please, Lord, may I never lose the Meaning of Christmas.
Dawn Pisturino
December 4, 1986; December 24, 2021
MERRY CHRISTMAS, EVERYONE!
Copyright 1986-2021 Dawn Pisturino. All Rights Reserved.
My Grandmother’s Nose
My grandmother’s nose was too long for her face
So it lay ninety years on the floor.
It was longer by half than my poor Grandma Grace,
And it weighed not a feather-weight more.
She was scorned on the morn
Of the day that she was born,
But my grandmother took it in stride.
She colored that schnozzola
With a cherry red Crayola
And painted yellow polka dots inside!
April 12, 2012
Raggedy Ann Loses Heart
Raggedy Ann liked to dress up and play
By the fire on a cold winter day.
When flames burned her dress, she cried in distress
As her candy heart melted away.
November 1, 2011
The Postman and the Snail
A postman delivering mail
Was attacked by a slithery snail.
Quickly, he trod on that fierce gastropod,
Fighting him off tooth and nail!
July 19, 2011
The Sailor and the Whale (1)
A sailor who kidnapped a whale
Got the ransom but landed in jail.
“Am I dumb!” said the crumb,
As he sucked on his thumb.
“I shouldn’t have sent him by mail!”
July 19, 2011
The Sailor and the Whale (2)
A sailor who kidnapped a whale
Got the ransom but landed in jail.
“Am I dumb!” said the crumb,
As he sucked on his thumb.
“There isn’t enough to make bail!”
July 19, 2011
The Man from New York
There was a young man from New York
Who stuffed down a very large pork.
He doubled in size, for he wasn’t too wise,
And popped off his head like a cork!
July 11, 2011
Dawn Pisturino
Copyright 2011-2021 Dawn Pisturino. All Rights Reserved.
Where have I been published?
Poetry Anthologies:
World Poetry Anthology, 1987
Best New Poems of 1988
Great Poems of Today, 1987
New American Poetry Anthology, 1988
National Poetry Anthology, 1988
American Poetry Anthology, 1988
Newspaper Articles:
Kingman Daily Miner – I had my own Health & Wellness Column in 2007
The Standard
Bullhead City Bee
Websites:
Masticadores USA
Iowa Life Blog
SelfGrowth.com
Committee for Direct Democracy
Scribd.com
F-Documents
ISSUU.com
Underneath the Juniper Tree
Smash Fascism
Cosmic Health Blog
Summer Eden Poetry Center
WordPress
Digital Ezines:
Underneath the Juniper Tree
Brooklyn Voice
Helmet Hair Motorcycle News
Danse Macabre du Jour
Psychic Magic Ezine
Working Writer
Print Publications:
Discussion Bulletin
New Unionist
Committee for Direct Democracy Information Packet
I appreciate every single one of my followers. I enjoy reading your comments and the posts on all of your blogs.
Thank you!
Dawn Pisturino
November 1, 2021
Copyright 2011-2021 Dawn Pisturino. All Rights Reserved.
Artwork by John Federis
(Warning! If you hate going to the dentist, don’t read this poem!)
The Dentist
by Dawn Pisturino
Now I’ve got you in my chair,
You’re not going anywhere.
So open wide, let me in,
And let the painful games begin!
See that molar on the right?
It’s in the socket way too tight.
Here’s my plier. Please don’t move.
I’ll pry that sucker from its groove!
Look, there’s a cavity over there.
My drill’s all ready. Please don’t stare!
My hands are shaking, can’t you see?
I need your confidence in me.
Oops! The blood is squirting out.
I didn’t mean to make you shout!
Your bloody tongue is in my hand.
Sit down! Don’t even try to stand!
Come back! I need to suture in—-
Oh well, another toothless grin.
February 6, 2012
Published in the April 2012 issue of Underneath the Juniper Tree.
Copyright 2012-2021 Dawn Pisturino. All Rights Reserved.
Artwork by Ken Lamug
Poem by Dawn Pisturino
CHELSEA HAD A LITTLE LAMB
Chelsea had a little lamb,
Its fleece was black as soot.
And everywhere that Chelsea went,
That lamb was underfoot.
It followed her to school until
The cooking class went wild
And served that lamb with mint and dill,
One chop for every child!
October 6, 2011
Published in the December 2011 issue of Underneath the Juniper Tree.
Copyright 2011-2021 Dawn Pisturino. All Rights Reserved.
Artwork by Jason Smith
Poem by Dawn Pisturino
DIRTY DONALD
Dirty Donald!
His hair, full of lice,
Grows down to his shoulders,
A haven for mice.
His teeth are all rotten,
Mildewed and black,
His tongue is so long,
He could pass for a yak.
His breath stinks of corpses
Dug fresh from their graves,
A delicate morsel
He constantly craves.
He glares at the ravens,
Surrounding his head,
With murderous eyes,
Pronouncing them dead.
Then yanks out their feathers
And nibbles their toes,
Lining them up
In neat little rows.
His clothes are so tattered,
The buzzards all say,
“What a fine looking fellow!
Let’s eat him today!”
July 3, 2011
Published on Underneath the Juniper Tree, July 17, 2011.
Published in the August 2011 issue of Underneath the Juniper Tree.
Copyright 2011-2021 Dawn Pisturino. All Rights Reserved.
Illustration by Job van Gelder
Poem by Dawn Pisturino
Down in the Graveyard
Down in the graveyard by the old oak tree
Roamed an old mother zombie and her little zombies three.
“Fresh meat!” cried the mother. “Tastes sweet!” cried the three.
And they ripped out the intestines from the caretaker, Lee.
Down in the graveyard by the mausoleum door
Lived an old mother werewolf and her little wolfies four.
“Fresh fat!” howled the mother. “Tastes great!” howled the four.
And they tore into the belly of the visitor, Lenore.
Down in the graveyard by the rusty old gate
Hung an old mother vampire and her little vampies eight.
“Fresh blood!” squeaked the mother. “Tastes good!” squeaked the eight.
And they sank their greedy fangs into the gravedigger, Nate.
Published in the September 2012 issue of Underneath the Juniper Tree.
Copyright 2012-2021 Dawn Pisturino. All Rights Reserved.
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