Maya's Micros
As a supplement to our main issue of The Closed Eye Open, we have an ongoing feature called Maya’s Micros. As the name suggests, it will be curated by contributing editor Maya Highland and will exclusively feature short form writing.
Since it can be a long wait between issues, we’ve decided to keep the creativity rolling by focusing on the littlest form of creative writing—micros. Whether you consider them micro-poems or micro-fictions, they are welcome here…as long as each individual piece is 108 or fewer. (Why 108, you may ask? Have fun speculating…)
We like the idea of saying a lot in a small space–the complexity of self-expression in balance with an economy of language. And of course, since they are short, they can be enjoyed within a few moments–perhaps a line or phrase sticking with you to carry along for a while.
We will update Maya’s Micros in small “batches” a few times per month in between our full issues.
If you like what you see and would like to get e-mail updates, please e-mail us at theclosedeyeopen@gmail.com.
Click here to submit your micros for publication.
Also, you may follow us on Instagram @theclosedeyeopen.
February 2025
Batch 081: 02/04/25
Maura Aradia Furtado
A Likely Culprit
Jealousy that erodes us all
Desert stone kissed by the rains above
Steady and certain, unfettered
Accosted by raring winds in voyage
In land unmarred by human deterrents
Now the stone is a beautiful, hollow arch
Now the stone is a statuesque pillar
Wondrous and reviled, transformed
And love eroded by jealousy
Is nothing like once remembered
Erik Manuel Soto
Panther Valley Residency, Reno
Eli,
Our days together have devoured the last pink snow / tearing bones from feeding pigeons clay / romantic imbeciles become little beneath the arrival of midnight bathos / play your guitar anyway / we are deranged in this beautiful coexistence / continue strumming / feed my ears with raging galore / I don’t want to settle with the standstill of buffalo berries tonight / I want to howl at membranes splattered on asphalt / pierce the sleepless and unbound with unconscious crescendo / on this last night together / let’s riot against all emerald clouds.
David Lawton
Mauretania in Linen
Skate blading atop fathomlessness
White star gleam blazes through white caps
Away from everything we wanted to leave
If I was a person who ever went places, I surely would have gone
From my trenchwork of fortress for carrying on
But grant oblivion is gracious, those gone before will make me strong
So schooly fishes had better watch their backs
Quickslipperysilver translucence in the wake
Of imminent outwardly thundering slipstream.
Ronald J. Pelias
Location
Looking locates.
Rearrange
the still life.
All remains
out of place.
Mark Hammerschick
Rose Petals Dancing on Rice Paper
Rose leaf silhouette
a path of dancing lanterns
frozen Hokkaido
Rice paper dances
Sakura blossoms singing
Kyoto temple
Ramen noodling
omakase kimono
wrapping Miyako
River Shinano
willowing salmon sweet fish
washing Honshu moon
Contributor Information
Maura Aradia Furtado, a New Jersey native, is an emerging writer previously published in The Word’s Faire and Cathexis Northwest Press. Her work explores heavier subjects and the more difficult aspects of the human condition. You can follow her on Bluesky @mauraiswriting.bsky.social and find more of her work on www.mauraiswriting.com.
<><><><><><><><><><><><><><>
Erik Manuel Soto’s poems have appeared in Volt 27, Nelligan, River and South Review, Huizache, and Sonora Review. Winner of the inaugural Gronk Nicandro first book prize for poetry, Erik’s full length poetry collection, Inside the Umber Iris, is expected to release in the fall of 2025. He is currently bouncing around the West Coast.
<><><><><><><><><><><><><><>
David Lawton is the author of the poetry collection Sharp Blue Stream (Three Rooms Press) and chapbook Inspiritive (Moonstone Arts), and serves as an editor for greatweatherforMEDIA. Pixie Dust, the first collection of songs by Hydrogen Junkbox, his lo-fi antifolk band with fellow poets Aimee Herman and Eric Alter, is now available on most major streaming services.
<><><><><><><><><><><><><><>
Ronald J. Pelias spent most of his career writing books, e.g., If the Truth Be Told (Brill Publications), The Creative Qualitative Researcher (Routledge), and Lessons on Aging and Dying (Routledge), that call upon the literary as a research strategy. Now in retirement, he writes for the pleasures and frustrations of putting words to the page.
<><><><><><><><><><><><><><>
Mark Hammerschick writes poetry and fiction. He holds a BA in English from the University of Illinois at Champaign-Urbana and a BS and MBA. His current work has been featured in The Elevation Review, Chaotic Merge, The Dewdrop, Poets Choice, Sad Girls Club, Moonstone Arts Press, Naugatuck River Review, Hip Pocket Press, and Chicagoland Poets & Patrons.
<><><><><><><><><><><><><><>
January 2025
Batch 080: 01/20/25
Allison Walters Luther
Resolute
If the old house on the cliff could talk
Would it shout, straining to be heard over the pounding waves
“I am still here! Through it all, I remain and welcome any who come in search of peace?”
Or would it whisper its secrets with each wooden creak
Like pain hiding in a corner,
“In the dark of night, hear me breathe the souls who have loved and lost on these worn floors?”
Still standing
despite years of assault by salt and wind and people
Resolute against the world
Crying for the world
Empty and alone
Joshua Kulseth
The Road to Nod
Instead of killing me, he sent me packing,
first-born good-for-nothing—alive only
to cruise back-alley byways and dives—
no longer handsome even, marked so—
outsider, exile he called me.
Is it too much to want to be loved
the same as that darling idiot, my brother,
who gave no more than I did and yet
was cooed over.
What welcome will I get, a man
like me—like my brother gave,
meeting at home or in our separate fields—
what does it matter now, to recall;
was I my brother’s keeper after all?
Edward Baranosky
En Plein Air
“Ah, grief makes us precise!”
—Leonard Cohen, Beautiful Losers
1
the patterns shimmer,
fade into the thickening fog,
wet mist on wet paint
2
the full moon rises,
brushed by the coral sunset,
sea wall and canvas
3
the tide topples
a precarious easel,
then moves on, dripping
4
wet paint spatters—
you look up at the gulls,
forget your footing
5
surf casting,
en plein air painting
catch and release
6
forgotten paintings
are footprints in the sand
in blue tidal pools
Ann Huang
Love Evolution
Who sees the wonders in your voice?
Who sees the smile on my face when you break ice?
Who knows your unblemished love?
What made me a woman of joy with burned stoves?
Someone has to deploy all;
Someone has lost his (蓝/blue) kale.
Who wants to take me to the orifice?
Why need my name for the sacrifice?
Ann—the “grace” spill of a girl withstanding the altar
Who keeps your light in her dark swirls.
D. R. James
Airport Relativity
First person, present tense strikes you as odd:
how I greet, record your emergence, this
crowd of funneled souls, details that never
occurred, not regarding your arriving,
4:10, 5:20, and here I am at
8:30. None of that matters, had, has
to happen. I write, true or not, wait, see,
then don’t, your distinctive stride, hazel gaze
in eight rushing women, your breakthrough now,
those other times, into my open lines.
Contributor Information
Let’s face it, Allison Walters Luther is a mess. She grew up in Southern Indiana and has since lived in England, Florida, Southern California, and Washington state. A writer and poet since the age of seven, she has Brain Dragons instead of Plot Bunnies and they frequently battle each other, leaving Allison a weeping, distracted blob. Her use of imagery has been called “immersive” and she often leaves stories open-ended, dashing off into the sunset and cackling “No story is ever really over!” You can learn more about her at allisonwaltersluther.com or find her on Threads as @allisonwaltersluther and BlueSky as @AllisonLuther.
<><><><><><><><><><><><><><>
Joshua Kulseth earned his B.A. in English from Clemson University, his M.F.A. in poetry from Hunter College, and his Ph.D. in poetry from Texas Tech University. His poems have appeared and are forthcoming in Tar River Poetry, The Emerson Review, The Potomac Review, The Windhover, The South Carolina Review, and others. His poetry manuscript, Leaving Troy, was shortlisted for the Cider Press Review Publication Competition, and is currently under contract with Finishing Line Press. He is an Assistant Professor of English and Creative Writing at Franciscan University of Steubenville.
<><><><><><><><><><><><><><>
Edward Baranosky has painted seascapes since he was seven years old. His focus on marine-scapes, draws him back to visit his native home in the American east coast, for inspiration from the North Atlantic. His work emphasizes the present — in the ever-changing moments of water. As a poet and artist, he crosses the channels and pathways between the visual and the textual. He continues to exhibit in the United States and Canada. Baranosky owns a small press EAB Publishing, for poetry and related material. He currently lives in Toronto, Ontario, Canada. Website: https://painterpoet.weebly.com
<><><><><><><><><><><><><><>
Ann Huang is a multilingual Chinese American poet, filmmaker, and visual artist based in Newport Beach, CA. Her poetry has been featured in Denver Quarterly, Ruth Stone, CONFRONTATION, Poets’ Choice, and Contemporary Verse 2. She’s Ephemera’s June 2023 Poet. Her latest manuscript, Garden by The Glass Door, is the Wisconsin Poetry Series’ 2024 Semi-finalist. Her collection of poems, Saffron Splash, was published in 2024 by The Raw Art Review.
<><><><><><><><><><><><><><>
D. R. James, retired from nearly 40 years of teaching college writing, literature, and peace studies, lives with his psychotherapist wife in the woods near Saugatuck, Michigan. His latest of ten collections is Mobius Trip (Dos Madres Press, 2021).
<><><><><><><><><><><><><><>