Submission Policy

Mel BrakE Press acquires first serial rights to all work published. Mel BrakE Press also reserves the right to electronically archive any content published.

All other rights revert to author upon publication.

Mel BrakE Press has a liberal submission policy, and will accept poetry manuscripts (not books) for its next publication cycle, the Spring of 2018.

We do not charge a reading fee. We DO NOT PAY TO PUBLISH YOUR WORK.

We only accept submissions via email for collection of poems. Please send no more than 3-5 pages of poetry as an email attachment using standard MS format. We do not accept epic manuscripts:10 pages or more will be rejected.

Please note in subject line: "Submission".

Manuscripts that do not follow our guidelines
will be subject to rejection. We do not publish books.

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Thank you

Thursday, December 15, 2011


We are esteemed to present the poetry of David Michael Joseph


David Michael Joseph is a Filmmaker, Poetry/Short story author and Screenwriter from New Jersey, but living in Los Angeles. He has made four short films. Shadows of Sepulveda and C.A.k.E. His latest film is presented:

He also has been published in: AMULET, THE ULTIMATE WRITER, CONCEIT MAGAZINE and Danse Macabre du Jour.

Fibbing Raccoon

I tell the raccoon he was a liar
For there is no good in this sector of reality
He laughs at me as he digs through the refuse of man
But to him this is a treasure trove
His laughter makes me laugh
I forget the world is so serious
But I leave him and ask the humming bird the meaning of life
She smiles and says
“On a fortune cookie from east, there is a saying
Life is not a gift but a duty”
I tell the humming bird she is a fool
She should move to the East
Where the axis spins and the rain clouds back peddle
Who am I but the son of a fool?
Yet, we all play the clown in the circus of life
I choose to be the ringleader of this asylum
The doors are open but the windows closed
Where are the guard dogs of the sane?
I believe another lie-sanity is a gift
I believe insanity( is the ultimate level)
For the real world is a maximum-security prison
Racism, poverty and gay porn
All met to keep us in place
For the hardest ward to escape is the mind
But I know a trap door
It's called fantasy

10:02 am

My eyes fight the light
My mind twists
The fumes of the mid night hour,
Have resonated in my mouth
I think I saw greatness
Truthfully, that is the last bit of liquor talking

As the voices thundering in my dome,
become echoes of shames
I press the replay button,
And it all slowed down

I see a man who looks like me
He is dressed like me
He is a better me
Making sweet love to his Jack and Coke.

Love twisted

There is an eternal struggle between the body and soul
For both fear love
For love is death
The end
The end of life as we know it
This force has control that we cannot
taste, touch or feel
But burns our bodies like flames on the flesh
For the heart is an assassin
The body becomes a prison
The mind becomes a liar
This handicapper of the physical being
Emotions strong enough to stroke the fire of war
Hate is just love turned inside out
Apathy is the real killer
The real soul breaker
When we don’t care
We do horrible things
Like the DMV

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