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Karen Bowles    Publisher and Editor -- California


Karen Bowles is the founder, publisher and editor of Luciole Press. She gained the nickname “Firefly” from a friend for her enduring love of the glowbugs in the South; “Luciole” means firefly in French. She graduated from San Francisco State University with a B.A. in Literature, and loves photography, reading, writing, theatre, and painting. After spending many years moving around, this military brat has laid down roots in Northern California, where you can find her gazing at stars and arguing with the bossy blue jay in her backyard.

Find more of my work at Luciole HERE and HERE.

Editor's Note: the current one, plus an older one  HERE

Baby the Greatest's photos: HERE

Interview with Julia Surba of Ancient Kuzhebar / Kuzhebar Design: HERE

Feature article on The Vintage Vulture: HERE

Submissions page: HERE

Luciole Press Blog, which I maintain: HERE

I have interviewed Alida Ivanov, Anett Kilen Kennedy, Ellyn Maybe, Satya Möller,
Tracy Lee Stum, and P
är Strömberg for previous issues, and Madeleine Åstrand for this one, plus reviewed Ellyn's new poetry CD. It's all around here someplace :)

Karen and Rosetta Bowles

On August 25th, 2010, I lost my mother to lung cancer. We were very close. I had been her caretaker, and it was a difficult and emotionally challenging time. I myself became very sick in the process, and am working on recovery. I have a rare disease called Pyoderma Gangrenosum (read my entry HERE). The poem I wrote below is one of a few I wrote during this time, and refers to my mother (a tiny bird).

Tiny Bird


Innumerable nurses, doctors, passersby and
do-gooding busybodies keep reminding you,
Eat, Eat, Eat!
You sit patiently, act enthusiastic, as empty
promises of improved health, weight gain
and renewal of body and spirit can all be yours
for three thousand calories a day. Just eat!
Junk food, milkshakes, snacks galore.
Really, how many times have we heard this before?
I see you struggle to eat, knowing the act of
chewing probably makes you lose more weight.
Each calorie is a precious commodity.
I look at myself in the mirror.
I have weight to spare, inches of protection
that might invite those same people to tell
me to stop eating. Day after day, you eat far
more than I do, and yet it slips away unnoticed
and unaccounted for. And here they come again,
waving pages of recipes, reminding you how
easy it is if you just look at it as a game to play.
You smile. Act enthusiastic. And perch like a
tiny bird on a window sill, ready to fly away
on the whispery breeze.


June 1, 2010

This Time For Real


And magically the clock was still hanging firmly
On the same set of numbers
My minute stood strong in the wind
And told me it would not leave me behind
Given the onrush of liquid universe crashing
Around it, ceaselessly bending time to its will
Newborn shapes in the clock face of eternity


My minute just stood there
Waiting till I caught up
I looked at the clock disbelieving
Something in me had grown so still
Time was dripping off my fingertips
And flowing upwards from strands of my
I was doused in time and feeling that
Liquid universe crashing all around me
But could feel only gentle laps
I was surrounded by that one minute
And it kept me
Padded me
Slipped its warm arms around me
Like a phantom pillow rock
Encasing me so that
Time simply moved around me

I was in Time.
This time it was for real.

December 11, 2010

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