Recent Appearances

It has been a busy few months.  Time to update the blog?  Indeed.  I'll start with some recent publications of mine.  I'd like to thank the editors of these fine magazines for including my work!!!!!!

Gutter Eloquence Issue #21:
 

http://www.guttereloquence.com/issue21/ridgeway21a.html

Underground Voices:

http://www.undergroundvoices.com/UVRidgewayKevin4.htm

Lush (from Rufous Press):

http://www.lulu.com/shop/jenny-enochsson-and-ande-enochsson/lush/paperback/product-20027171.html

and

Gutter Eloquence Issue #20:

http://www.guttereloquence.com/issue20/kridgeway20.html

...more to come!

Drunk Monkeys Volume Two

I'm very pleased to have two poems in Drunk Monkey's second anthology, available as an e-book for Kindle.  Buy/download a copy and enjoy.  Drunk Monkeys is a really cool publication, and I'm happy to contribute!

http://www.amazon.com/Drunk-Monkeys-Originals-Volume-ebook/dp/B0080LOWBY/ref=sr_1_9?ie=UTF8&qid=1336233242&sr=8-9

Burn through Today Available Now!

I am thrilled to announce the release of my chapbook "Burn through Today" from Flutter Press.  It's a small collection of a dozen poems written over the past year.  It includes an amazing cover design by Daniel Cuesta (from a painting by Charlotte San Juan) and wonderful blurbs from poets John Swain, Ande and Jenny Enochsson.  You can purchase a copy here: 


http://www.lulu.com/product/paperback/burn-through-today/18882258

Review: The Insomnia Poems by Harry Calhoun

Harry Calhoun, poet and editor of the magazine Pig in a Poke, is a man of eloquent words established in orderly, brilliant verses. This is evident in his recent chapbook, The Insomnia Poems (2011, Flutter Press). In this volume, he writes of the brutish nuisance that is sleeplessness with tremendous fearlessness and aplomb, musing on his life and his inability to meet the sandman in the lonesomeness of the night. His companion is his beloved dog Alex as he wades through the poetry of pain within those three and four a.m. hours and the absence of all other life to accompany him, with reflections on death and solitude more visual and well articulated than most contemporary poets. In the poem "Out of My Hands" he writes:

"It is a stupid fact/of life and it is yours and is written, defined/that nothing is your fate or will allow you/blessed sleep. It is diabolical, forbidden/black brackish milk laced with forbidden brandy/that tastes of decay and stomach cramps, and/like the blazing slack stare of this 3 a.m.,/will never allow you to rest. It is your/fate and the freefall lack of sustenance./It is the eternal hunger with no food."

Nothing for this reviewer comes closer to that horrid wee-small hour feeling that one cannot sleep, and the poems of this chapbook collection speak better than any I've read of its scourge and its sad moments of enlightenment.

You can order a copy of The Insomnia Poems here:  http://www.lulu.com/product/paperback/the-insomnia-poems/17409837?productTrackingContext=author_spotlight_630062_

Autumn Dreaming

My favorite season is upon us, the season of my birth.  My energies are at their best during this time of year.  I'm fortunate to have plenty of work set for publication this fall at places as varied as James H. Duncan's Hobo Camp Review (Google Mr. Duncan, he is an amazing poet and writer), Clockwise Cat, Katie Moore and Co.'s The Legendary, Jack T. Marlowe's Gutter Eloquence, Full of Crow, the print editions of Side B Magazine and Electric Windmill Press, and countless others.  I'm mostly looking forward to all of the writing I haven't done yet, and the experiences that precede my endeavors as a young and fledgling scribe.  Thought I'd stop by and throw a few cents in this silly little blog, and get back to watching "Double Indemnity" for the umpteenth time.  And dream of pumpkins.    

The End of a Long Intense Summer

It's been a long and especially hot summer.  Hard work and personal setbacks--but this cooled head has prevailed.  I've watched people die in my life, but so many people have slipped into the Great Mystery this summer, people I knew personally, people I knew professionally--and people I didn't know at all.
It started earlier this month with the death of a good friend's other half, the father of her child--very sudden and way too young to exit.  RIP Andre Botta, the Great Saint of the East to the West.
Scott Wannberg, the legendary poet of the Southern California variety followed soon after.  Unfortunately, I had no personal connections with Mr. Wannberg, but there are many in my growing network of writers who did.  I've been on a marathon reading of the work available online that he contributed to the world, as well as the blogs attesting to his genius and amazing warmth--a giant of the small press.  He was indeed a genius.  I plan on buying every book of his that I can, and of course you certainly should, too.  His poetry is something so incredible and moving to savor--fiercely eloquent, exciting, poignant and brilliant.  Man, I wished I had contacted him and told him so!  I recently wrote an elegy for Warren Zevon, and lo and behold--an elegy for him from Scott Wannberg in plain sight here online that blew away my monster stanzas of meager interest into the eye of the staggering hurricane of his brief and heart stopping words.  The best I can do is continue to read his work, and support the writers living who are just as wonderful.  And work on an elegy for him.  And work on my Zevon poem--Scott's was beyond anything to surpass, as is all of his work.  RIP Scott Wannberg, a titan of written expression.     
If that wasn't enough, Mr. Nobius Black, aka Matt Evelsizer, passed on.  He was an incredibly charming and generous editor, publishing some of my earliest stutters as a poet on his literary weblog Calliope Nerve.  We exchanged pleasantries regarding that occasion--a really nice guy.  I told him how much I admired his prodigious output and my admiration for his work.  He was gone three weeks after that exchange, even before my wee poem appeared in his publication.  The best that can be done in the wake of his death is to support the small press, the literary underground.  My thoughts go out to his family, his friends and his legion of fans.  RIP, Matt.

Upcoming Publications

It has been a busy summer for Mr. Ridgeway, writing up a storm and submitting away.  Look for my work in the August editions of The Orange Room Review, Gloom Cupboard and on August 9th a poem of mine will be in Calliope Nerve.  Breadcrumb Scabs issue 30 will also feature a piece of mine and September offers work in Larks Fiction Magazine and Underground Voices.  These are all mighty fine publications and check them out not only for my work, but many greater writers they feature.  It's my honor to contribute to these journals!