The GGP Collective: July 2022

July 2022

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The GGP Collective

Issue 1

© Glass Gates Publishing LLC, 2022

Introduction The GGP Collective is a collaborative chapbook featuring writers from across the world. Our first issue includes multiple genres and cuts through a diverse cross-section of themes.

The goal for this collection is to provide writers an open-air space to publish their work in an environment that believes in total creative freedom.

Contributing artists are the inspiration behind its design and similar to fingerprints, no two are alike.

Ultimately, we aim to integrate a more structured and formalized quarterly review as an option for those who wish to contribute to a more thematically unified periodical.

Issue 1: Featured Writers

Donna McCabe Linda Crate Eleanor Jacobson Cassandra Manzolillo Ananiah Biju Bianca Paravizzini Jordan Nishkian Beverly M. Collins Brian King Louise Kim

All photography by Megan D. L. Konikowski, rights reserved

Table of Contents Mind Reader Shattered i am wild,feral, and someone you will never tame you couldn’t bury me I Remember Paris When My Mom Found Out A Walk in Farmingville Hills County Park Broken Plastic Untitled One for the Angels Prague at 2:11 Earth’s Plan for Humans Autumn Pas De Deux abecedarian for worn-out immigrant mothers who think they cry in secret

Mind Reader You got in my mind You knew right away how I thought I get in a tangle When I know that I'm caught We know what each others thinking A kind of secret telepathy Your my mental sounding board When things get the best of me We know each other on another level A deeper bond if you will It's a skill some don't understand Or never will But I think it's cool and great We are two that think as one A mental kind of chemistry That's worth its weight in fun.

Shattered I'm cracking up Falling apart A pain is raging within this heart It's broken, battered Scarred, bruised Tired of being used and abused It needs some healing A balm of love Spread over these wounds That are infected and cut Given time they will heal As they always do But another lessons been learned From this pain I've gone through.

-Donna McCabe

i am wild, feral, and someone you will never tame i was always made to feel as if my music was wrong just because it wasn't a familiar melody to those who weren't familiar with the mythology of my bones and the lyrics of my soul weren't accessible to them, but i am learning that there's never been anything wrong with me; just with the people who urged me to be someone i wasn't in order to ensure their own comfort instead of those who allowed me to grow—but i refuse to sit behind gilded cages, singing prettily; i won't be your caged bird—i am wild, feral, and someone you will never tame; i embrace myself and my magic fully now and i have remembered and reclaimed my voice—if i am too much then people are always able to go find someone who is less, but i will not lessen myself any more simply because someone cannot take me as who i am; flawed and imperfect there is still beauty in me and all of my scars and i refuse to stop bettering myself and becoming who i was always meant to be just because someone thought to criticize me—it takes no time or thought to insult someone, and some of these people's opinions i will never value; so i am going to let it drop off me like water off the feathers of a duck—i've got oceans, wildflowers, forests, skies, universes, creeks, constellations, clouds, and earth to explore; i don't have time to listen to those who don't have the courage to follow their dreams tell me who i should be—i know exactly who i am, and i am going to be the best version of her that i can possibly be; if you don't like that then you don't get a seat at my table because not everyone is invited into the garden of my heart.

you couldn’t bury me you wanted me to be your damsel, that was just something i couldn't be; you thought you could bury me in the fractured song of your lust and i would remain dead— rose from the ashes of chaos on brighter and more powerful wings than before, i was never a chickadee but always a phoenix; wanted to illuminate your path with my light to ease the pain of your darkness and use my tears to heal you— but you made it clear that you prefer your darkness so these flaming wings will burn you into ash.

-Linda Crate

I Remember Paris I remember Paris, in the late hours, of a humid evening with only brief, and fleeting zephyrs wafting the scent of flowers providing the evening a cool relief.

Strolling along The Seine, past tourists and couples in love, in the Lover’s City drinking Rose from paper cups gazing at abstract art hidden in graffiti Walking across a bridge where padlocks show a tangible symbol of infinite intangible love in la vie en rose locking together two star crossed souls.

Standing on cobblestones high at Sacre Couer fingertips brush the midnight sky fireflies light the city’s grandeur.

-Eleanor Jacobson

When My Mom Found Out she told me to stop pretending to be something i’m not she told me i say things i don’t even understand she told me i’m already the least liked in the family; that’s when i understood i have no real home, yet

A Walk in Farmingville Hills County Park the steps creak at the old school house a bunny stands in the corner of the hill before bouncing, unknown deers wrestle on the path between forest rain falls down, turning flowers to tired colors of spring & i walk alone noticing it all without you

Broken Plastic I’m a broken watering can can’t stop the leaks from becoming me, hurting below the bugs & bees enjoying the gentle breeze it is too late for patches I have no latches for what I feel unwanted where I leak so I try not to speak

-Cassandra Manzolillo

Untitled That night I lay in bed, Eyes weary and tired , But sleep didn't visit that night, Thoughts they roam my brain, Some terrifying and some exasperating, Feeling invincible but I'm still invisible , Phone's on airplane mode , Cause no one cares Thought I'd be okay , Pushed it back away , Feel off the ledge , Now I'm floating in air , Neither here nor there, Somewhere but nowhere all at once .

Vowed to never do this But still here I am , Sharpener in my hand , Why are you in two pieces ?

Can we be best friends? Even through i know you'll tear me apart, Your cool touch gives me comfort and I need someone who'll stay.

Who is she ?

The girl in the mirror looking through me , Crimson lines adorn her hands, But maybe this is what I deserve.

Or maybe it isn't .

-Ananiah Biju

One for the Angel Warriors What did you do all day?

Triggered right? I’m particularly targeting my “stay at home mums / dads”.

God, surely there is a more suitable name for these hardworking angel warriors. Ok, we have a winner. They will be referred to as Angel Warriors moving forward.

Ok back to it. Your partner gets home from work and in the most innocent way he or she asks “So, what did you do all day?”. I’m not sure about you, but when asked this question my mind immediately travels to the list of things I DID NOT do. It triggers guilt in me, instantly feeling like I didn’t do nearly as much as I wanted to or should have. I ask myself internally, what DID I do today? Where did the day go?

Now this conversation between you and your partner can go one of two ways.

Either you instantly get on the defence – “What do you mean? I literally have not sat down since 6.30am.” (while still not being able to tell them one thing you accomplished).

Or you withdraw. Withdrawal is dangerous. Because while our partner (ok I’m referring to the male species specifically) has completely moved on to his next thought, we are in our heads. We cannot and will not stop thinking about this until it more than likely causes an outburst of tears or a sleepless night. You think to yourself, that’s it! Tomorrow, I’m going to write a list of everything I do.

But you won’t do that, because you won’t have time.

I’d like to share with you the perfect response to this question.

“I worked. Hard.”

From the moment my eyes opened, my shift began.

My bosses aren’t like yours. They don’t provide me with set breaks. They don’t even want me to have a break!

I have to feed them. I have to keep their bums clean.

I attempt to eat some toast while walking around the house picking up their toys, astonished at how they have made this much mess in under 30 minutes. Then, they ask me for some of my toast. I can’t exactly say no can I?! MY BOSSES STEAL MY FOOD. I walk into the laundry to put a load of washing on (you know the load that was supposed to be done yesterday) but I walk out mid-way interrupted by a screaming match. Mr almost 3 (aka Mr A) and Miss just turned 1 (aka Miss M). Screaming and crying. Even though 30 seconds earlier they were playing in completely different rooms. How do they manage this?

I turn around and see the breakfast cups waving at me from the kitchen sink. I tell myself, this will be quick, the laundry is definitely next. Two cups in and I feel Miss M headbutting my calves. I turn around to see her big eyes filling with tears and her arms reaching out to me. I switch off the tap. Ok baby boss, Mummy’s got you.

I put on some music and her face lights up as we dance around the living room. Mr A joins in. We do some puzzles, we build some towers.

Everyone is happy and my heart is SO full. How did I get so lucky with these two?

Snack time! Ok, I should have 5-10 minutes before one of the bosses come looking for me.

Should I shower? Hmm no, I’ll attempt that later.

I really should put that load of washing on.

Argh what did I step on? Egg. Egg from Miss M’s breakfast. She likes to end her meal time by sweeping all of her left over food on to the floor.

Deep breaths. Ok. I’ll give the floor a quick sweep, then I’ll do the dishes and the laundry will definitely be next.

I grab the broom and start to sweep. Mr A with his intensely fantastic hearing walks out of the tv room.

“Mum, what you doing?”

“I’m sweeping boss.”

“I waantt tooo dooooo it.” Already crying. Knowing it is the absolute LAST thing I want him to do right now.

“Please buddy, I just need 5 minutes to sweep this floor, please?”.

Aaaand cue tantrum.

The tantrum that cannot be stopped any way other than giving them exactly what they want. Sometimes they’re too upset to even accept that. All they want is for you to hold them and make them feel better about the ordeal they’ve just been through.

This was one of those times. I put the broom down and pick him up. He puts his head on my shoulder and I give in and sit down with him. Yes a part of me feels happy to sit down and rest my body, a part of me is appreciating this squishy, tight cuddle from my prince but my mind is not resting. It is considering the growing list of started-yet-unfinished jobs I need to get to. And sometimes the wish list items make an appearance – bathrooms, dusting, changing sheets, mopping and the list goes on.

I love these little humans so much and I don’t want them to be upset. I don’t want to choose housework over their happiness. I try so hard to find a balance but at times it feels impossible.

I feel like I’m failing in both departments. The “interactive parenting” and the “all other responsibilities” departments. Yet I am giving it my absolute all and I am EXHAUSTED. Ok let’s save this emotional breakdown for later, as Miss M is at my feet. Probably ready for her nap. I HAVE TO PUT MY BOSSES TO SLEEP. Once she’s asleep, I give Mr A his iPad (don’t @ me, it is my saviour at times like this!) and I literally run to the laundry and shut the door. I put the load of washing on and walk out. YES! Happy dance. Oh my god it’s 11.55am.

Fast forward with the above on repeat until your partner gets home and asks the dreaded question “So, what did you do all day?”.

You’re so frazzled, tired and hungry at this point, you can’t think straight and you do not know how to answer in a way that justifies the day that you have had.

I mean, even if you tell them everything, let’s be honest, until they are in your shoes dealing with little boss babes morning until night, they won’t be able to 100% understand it or the emotions that come with it. Especially the emotions!

However, my Angel Warriors, I want you to OWN YOUR HARD WORK. It is physical, it is emotional and it is not easy. But you do it for the family, just as your partner is out there, doing it for the family.

I clock off around 8pm, but my long hours aren’t rewarded with dollars. They are rewarded with hugs, kisses and I love yous before bed, and that alleviates any frustration felt throughout the day. That is all I want and need in this life.

I love my little bosses.

-Bianca Paravizzini

Prague at 2:11 She gave up on Thursday— two more days till departing the Václav Havel Airport, two more nights festering in the same bed with him trying to hoard her in skeins of dense limbs.

Untangling offered temporary relief until his sleeping summer sweat spread through the sheet, clinging to her: a wet bandage suffocating a scab.

Untangling offered the chance to congeal— to reshape after years of being water, filling incomplete spaces he left. She’ll leave by arrival.

-Jordan Nishkian

Earth’s Plan for Humans Trust The crust will break as needed In earth’s planned timing.

Know Seeds will find their way to the surface foliage fully intact.

Believe Nature’s recycling wheel moves in Perfect spinning order.

Till The garden near your own front door. Watch as it blooms.

Water The vines of your own reasoning.

Let patience pull your choices.

Stretch Your expectations tightly until it can Include ALL.

-Beverly M. Collins

Autumn - Pas De Deux Chestnut, white oak and poplar frame a southwestern sky, their summer leaves mingle with ten knot westerly winds. thus begins - a slow shaking of leaves, dancers waving. imperceptibly leaves change color, thirst, grow brittle. and the wind - never enough to tear limb from trunk caresses each one; asking “how does this feel?” leaves - “empty yourself while touching, listen.” wind - “i see, getting closer i hear!” winds increase, lifts leaves, with a whirl and shake, snap, they are free. move up, side to side, circle, thrust, tumble a final repose absorbs leaves back to Earth while the wind turns its back and heads east.

-Brian King

abecedarian for worn-out immigrant mothers who think they cry in secret

airplane ride between there and here, bringing bravery, leaving behind all else. raising a child must feel damning. lonely. a quarter for every tear you’ve shed would fuel ten thousand washing machines. garden of eden and the apple was your love for me. after all i have inflicted upon you, how could i say i love you without guilt jeering at me from every mirror? i know i brought you here, for the sake of learning, growing, better living. you say you like being here, and you are honest. but memories haunt me. of you sobbing. of me watching from the shadows, crying too. nothing hurts more than your child. if only i had enough words to tell you how much i love you. perhaps i could have done more for you — all these years of you quieting the complaints from your heart and your aching shoulders. resting is foolish; resting is waste of time; to live is to suffer the consequences of one’s smallness against the world. us against the gunfire. they ask you if you want to be a victim or a victor. you say neither: you want to rest. mother, you have faced enough xenophobia for a lifetime. yes, 엄마 , you fought so hard for this country, this zenith, and you reap the rewards — these scarred hands, these tears.

translation: 엄마 - umma - mother -Louise Kim