I’m reflecting again about the literary community’s loss of Glen Phillips, editor and publisher of Front Porch Review. Just the other day, on The Poetry Space_, Tim and Katie and their regular guests were discussing ‘The Classic Rattle Poem’. In this conversation, they were brainstorming possible names for the type of poetry that seems “classic” in this sense. A kind of poetry that also finds a home in New York Quarterly, in line with Raymond Hammond’s mission and the legacy of William Packard. A kind of poetry that resembles much of what you might find in ONE ART. The term “front porch poetry” was floated and discussed. (I’ve been having a few ongoing conversations with editors about other possible names for this school of poetics.)
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Glen Phillips’ aims were slightly different in his mission for the Front Porch Review. His journal was intentionally geared towards an older audience.
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Here’s an About Statement for Front Porch Review on Duotrope:
“Front Porch Review is an online literary magazine. Its publisher, Glen Phillips of Park Ridge, IL, toiled mightily in the vineyards of educational and IT publishing. After forty years of vainglorious effort, he decided the best he could do for the common good was to build an electronic front porch displaying the significant artistic work of our older generation, men and women coming late to the creativity game and with something of value to express. His democratic symbol, a front porch, typically a mannered appendage, can also be concrete steps, wooden planks, iron railings, cardboard boxes, even a wool rug at the entrance of a Bedouin's tent. Whatever its form, a front porch is where we, young and old, congregate; where we assemble, gather, mingle, congeal, where we get together. And once we're there we speculate, pontificate, prevaricate, and expostulate; occasionally we speak words of universal truth.”
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The following link is to an interview with Glen Phillips for ‘Six Questions For…’ from 2014.
What are the top three things you look for in a submission and why?
“Poetry: straightforward language, poetic imagery, comprehensible messages as found in the works of Mary Oliver and Pablo Neruda. Why: our readers do not want to stumble over flights of fancy.”
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From a little interview with Glen with a nice takeaway:
What advice would you give others?
“Nothing beats patience and perseveration. Nothing.”
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Glen Phillips died on March 24, 2024
The Front Porch Journal website is down.
My poem ‘Tomorrow’ appeared in the April 2024 issue.
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My Poems Published in Front Porch Journal
Time Out of Mind (Written in May 2012, published in the July 2017 issue of Front Porch Review)
Screen Shot (Written in July 2016, published in the January 2018 issue of Front Porch Review)
Tomorrow (Written in November 2023, published in the April 2024 issue of Front Porch Review)
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Time Out of Mind
Who has the time
to read inscriptions
on tired old statues
steam vegetables
on the stovetop
or compose a heartfelt
letter to a childhood friend
no longer around?
Who has the time anymore
to listen to an overture
all the way through
or even read a poem
without hearing that little voice
in the back of your mind
ask when you last checked
if the world has ended?
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Screen Shot
I wish you were in the passenger’s seat
when music shapes the space
Attempts to salvage with new eyes
catch us in the grip of curated nostalgia
Remembrance as a souvenir
with a lost reference point
Rough gems slow worn smooth
as the rapids of experience wash over us
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Tomorrow
You'll remember
you're not such a bad person
after all
You'll put on fresh clothes
that flatter
because you are comfortable
You'll drink
from your favorite mug
a just right amount of warmth
You'll do
what you have to do
& shrug off nonsense
You'll make a full day
as only you can
with little effort
You'll ignore
what you do not owe time
& enjoy small moments
You'll treat yourself
to a calm evening
at your own pace
You'll find good sleep
since you will have earned it
by being kind to yourself
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A final note.
It’s sad to me how many of the journals I’ve published in over the years are defunct.
Very little of the work remains accessible.
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i like that someone (you) is following the history of publications from the past. William Packard published my first good poem , and i am happy to see him mentioned. i like Tomorrow so much. it made me think of a keats poem called ode to maia that ends with the line: "rich in the simple worship of a day." Thanks,
“You'll ignore
what you do not owe time”
Good stuff, that.